“But you like me.”
He looked me over and shrugged as he stepped into a stream of hot water.
“So, what in the hell am I doing here?” I asked as he yanked me into the shower and pushed me under the water. “Because I want to talk to you every day. I want to look at you every day. Because I can’t fucking wait to see what completely inappropriate T-shirt you wear to work next.”
“You like me a lot.” I grinned.
“Enough to risk a nut,” he mused as he poured cheap shampoo into his hand. “Turn around,” he ordered, “let me return the favor.” He playfully slapped a handful of shampoo on the top of my head before he scraped his fingernails in my scalp and through my hair, his ready cock hard between us as he gently washed me and then himself. Minutes later, I was rummaging through his cabinets—starving—and came up with shrimp flavored Ramen noodles. But it didn’t matter; we were content eating hot bowls full of plastic pasta, me in one of his clean T-shirts and him in fresh underwear. In that moment on his lumpy mattress slurping noodles, I felt like I could fly. I was trying my best to keep cool. It was as if I’d finally been granted permission to feel anything when it came to him. Looking at him, being able to touch him, it was the purest drug.
Trying to tamp down my elation, I scoured his living room, and in the far corner next to the patio door was a stack of at least a hundred spiral notebooks. Most of them looked worn.
I nodded toward them. “Music?”
“Yeah,” he said, pulling my empty bowl from my hands.
“Can I look?”
“Not tonight.”
“Why not tonight?”
“Because it’s four thirty in the morning.”
“What?” I looked at the clock on his stove. “Oh, shit, I should go.” I moved to stand and he shook his head.
“Stay. Just a little longer.” My heart leapt as he tugged me back into his grip. Our bowls stacked beside his mattress, I was pressed on my back beneath him, our mouths latched as we clawed and gasped and let go before all that was left was a lingering kiss at his front door.
I wasn’t about to ask him for an explanation when it came to us. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, besides more of the same, him. As we lingered, wordless, I could feel the tension in him start to build. I didn’t want to think about anything other than what had just happened between us. I just wanted to keep the warmth as long as possible. I was brimming with it.
“Stella, let me talk to Paige, okay?”
“It’s not her business.”
“It kind of is,” he said as he gripped my mouth tight so my lips smashed together. “So, keep this closed, okay?”
“Fine,” I agreed through duck lips.
He bruised them thoroughly before I made a mad dash for my sister’s apartment. My heart pounded wildly with the fresh reality and the fear of getting caught.
I was on fire with freedom and deliciously sore. His touch still lingered on my flesh; his desire still danced on my tongue. Up the stairs and feeling confident I could keep us a secret just a little while longer, I shut the door softly and found the apartment quiet. I moved toward my duffle and jumped when I saw Paige on the couch. I froze and then hung my head.
Her voice was ice. “You can’t stay here.”
“What?”
“Get out, Stella. Leave your key.”
“No, what? No, Paige. You don’t mean that. You can’t mean that.”
“I do. This is a big mistake, and I will not watch you make it.”
“Please,” I pleaded through the dark room. “Please don’t do this. I only need a few weeks.”
“Should have thought about that before you fucked my best friend.”
Anger built, and I couldn’t help my bite of defense. “Why, would you rather it be you?”
“Get out.”
“Paige.” I shook my head. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just—”
“Get out. Now.”
“Paige?” Neil said as he walked into the kitchen and turned on the light, making us both wince.
“She’s leaving,” she said as she walked up to Neil and kissed his cheek. “Now.”
“Paige,” I said as my voice cracked. “I really care about him. I want to be with him. Why is that so wrong?”
She walked into the bedroom and closed the door.
“I’m sorry,” I told Neil as I stuffed a few loose T-shirts in my bag and zipped it up. “Thank you for letting me stay.”
“I’ll talk to her, Stella.”
“She’s never been this mad at me, ever.”
Neil sighed and scrubbed his face. “She’ll get over it. She’s more pissed at Reid.”
The gnawing sensation hit my chest as I thought for a second I might have made a mistake. “Is he that bad?”
Neil looked at me with clear eyes. “If he wants to be.” He walked over to his CD collection and pulled a hundred-dollar bill from one of the shelved discs. “Take this and get a cab and cheap motel for the night. I’ll talk to her.”
“No,” I said, giving him a quick hug. “No, keep your money. I’ll figure it out. Bye,” I choked out as I closed the door behind me. A tidal wave struck the second I was out the door as the tears built and fell freely.
Fuck.
I had money for a hotel, but it was 5:00 in the morning. There was only one place for me to go. I took the walk of shame, that only my sister had brought on, and dragged my duffle across the lawn. I looked up to see Reid smoking a cigarette on his balcony. I paused as he stood and crushed it under his foot.
He met me at his front door, my face burning with fresh tears. “Did she call you?”
“If you want to call it that,” he said as he grabbed my bag, tossed it behind him, and pulled me inside.
“I’m sorry,” I said as my breath hitched and more tears flowed. I was embarrassed, furious, and temporarily homeless.
“We both did this,” he said as he thumbed my jawline. “We, not you.”
“She’s so pissed.”
“She’ll get over it.” Nothing in his voice told me he believed she would. Had I just cost him his best friend?
“Can I just stay today? I need some sleep. I need to think.”
Reid nodded as I shook with the revelation that I’d completely alienated my sister.
Was I wrong? Was she? Would Reid make a fool out of me? And what were we? Was it even worth it?
Reid bit his lip and pawed the top of my head. “Stop your brain.”
“I’m so screwed.”
“Welcome to adulthood,” he said with a Cheshire grin. “It fucking sucks here.”
“God, please don’t ever volunteer for a suicide hotline,” I said as I looked around his place in the early morning light. “This looked so different an hour ago,” I said under my breath.
“Because you weren’t stuck here,” he said softly behind me.
I looked his way and saw the shame my words brought him. “I didn’t mean it like that at all. If you think this is bad, you should visit my Uncle Julio in Mexico. He has a dirt floor. You live like royalty compared to him.”
Reid shook his head the way he always did when he dismissed my eternal optimism and led me to his mattress. Tucked in his hold, he kissed me until I came undone for him and fell asleep on his chest.
Watching the Wheels
John Lennon