I have the urge to want to reach out and run my fingers over her pink cheeks.
Actually, I have the urge to want to do a lot more with her right now.
Kiss her, peel her clothes off…
“I remember a lot.” I give her my best grin, the one that has woman dropping their panties for me.
“Come on let’s sit down.” I grab hold of her left hand, for two reasons.
One – I’m feeling for a wedding ring. Two – I just really need to touch her.
No ring. Thank fuck. But my skin heats at the contact with her, and my cock twitches in my pants again.
Fuck! Not again.
Stuart and a dude. Stuart and dude.
While I focus on getting my dick to tame the fuck down, I lead her over to sofa and sit down.
She sits next to me, but leaves a huge gap, I notice.
I turn toward her, crossing my legs. I look at hers while she puts her bag on the floor.
That cute little skirt of hers has ridden up, and is showing plenty of those sexy stems.
I suppress a moan as an image of me touching her leg, running my hand over her smooth, olive skin, up and under that sexy little skirt, flashes through my mind.
“Do you want something to drink?” I ask her, chasing the mental picture away.
She turns her legs toward me.
Fuck! Is she teasing me or something? I’m itching to put my hands on her and see if her skin is as soft as it looks. If she were any other woman, I’d have done that and more by now.
She’d be shirtless and skirtless, and I’d be well on my way to fucking her to the finish line, if she was anyone else.
But she’s not just anyone.
She’s Tru.
She was my best friend, and is, and always will be way more than a quick fuck, irrespective of what my cock is saying right now.
It’s the most fucking confusing feeling I’ve ever had in my life. And I don’t do confused. I want something I take it, or I make it happen.
But I just can’t do that with her.
I fix my eyes on her face, avoiding the temptation to look at her legs again or her tits for that matter, and give her the respect she deserves.
“Water would be great, thanks,” she says. Her cheeks redden again.
Did she used to blush this much when we were kids?
“Water?” I query. “You sure you don’t want orange juice or something?”
She shakes her head. “Water’s fine.”
“Stuart!” I yell.
He shows his face a few seconds later. That was quick. I bet the nosey bastard has been stood by the door listening in.
“Can you get Tru a glass of water and I’ll have an orange juice, please.”
Stuart nods, smiling at me, then goes off to get our drinks.
Nosy fucker has been listening in.
I’m feeling restless. I need a smoke but I don’t want to light up in front of her for some unexplained reason.
“So, this is a little crazy, huh?” I say.
“Hmm. A little.” She casts a glance at me, pressing her gorgeous pouty lips together.
I want to kiss them, see them around my dick…
“So how have you been?” I ask her.
“Good. Great. I’m music journalist now, obviously…” she mumbles.
She seems really uncomfortable around me. Maybe she’s not as happy to see me, as I am her.
“You always were a good writer,” I encourage.
“I was?” She looks surprised.
“Yeah, those stories you used to make up when we were little, and then you used to make me sit and listen to you while you read them back to me,” I chuckle.
She was such a cute thing when she was younger.
Her face goes bright red. “Oh God,” she groans. “I was so lame.”
I laugh. “You were five, Tru. I think we can forgive the lame.” I drag my fingers through my hair. “And of course you always loved music so it makes sense the two went together. You still play the piano?” I ask her.
She was amazing on the keys. I could sit and listen to her play for hours when we were younger.
“No. I stopped–” she pauses. It makes me curious. “I just, um, haven’t played in a long time. I fell out of it, you know,” she adds sounding really uncomfortable now. “Well obviously you don’t know.” She gestures to my guitar.
I smile at her, but I’m not feeling it.
Why is she so uncomfortable around me? I thought she might be pissed at me for stopping contact, but not uncomfortable.
It’s not the whole me being famous shit is it? She was the one person I would never have expected that from.
I sigh inwardly.
Stuart reappears with our drinks.
Tru thanks him for her drink.
“Anything else?” Stuart asks me.
Apart from her?
I look at Tru in question. She shakes her head.
“No, we’re good thanks,” I say dismissing him.
I have a drink of my juice.
“So I’d ask how you’re doing but…” she gestures around at our surroundings.