The fantasy felt so real—Liam’s warm breath panting against my neck, his hands running up and down my body.
I curl the fingers anchored between my thighs—sticky and wet. Even though my alcohol-addled brain is clear after a night of sleep, my body still hasn’t gotten the memo that best friends don’t fuck.
Looks like it will be my fingers for a bit longer. I drag one finger through my folds, enjoying one last self-indulgent stroke, but the door handle clicks and turns before I can slip my hand from my panties.
I freeze in place, my entire body stiffening as I try to keep my breathing steady.
Footsteps shuffle into my room, heavy even though I can tell he is trying to tiptoe and not wake me. If Liam weren’t so well built, he might be able to get away with it.
I have to fight to hide the smile.
The clink of glass hits my bedside table, and the soft rattle of a pill bottle follows.
He thinks I’m hungover… because too much alcohol is the only explanation for trying to climb on top of him last night.
My heart rate picks up, reliving the embarrassment. Can I just curl up under my blankets and never face the world again?
He stands so close to me that I can feel the heat from his body. A rush of warm air tickles my arm. Is that his breath?
What is he doing?
If he gets any closer, my nipples will harden, and my fingers… can he see a bulge beneath the blankets where my hand is?
Footsteps quietly sound their way to the door, the handle clicking a moment later.
I lift my arm off my face and check that the room is empty. The musky hint of arousal hits my nose. I pull my fingers out from between my legs, each digit glistening with proof of the scent lingering in my room.
I groan into my pillow. How many times can I embarrass myself in twenty-four hours?
I don’t want to find out.
It’s lunchtime before I hear him leave for his daily run. I venture out and find the sandwich on the counter. The care he took, filling the bread with my favorite ingredients and adding orange slices on the side, makes my heart swell.
“Why does he have to be such a great guy?”
It would be easier to pretend last night didn’t happen if he were an inconsiderate ass like my ex. The amount of attentionLiam showed to sandwich-making promised he’d take even more care of the body rocking beneath him.
But it can’t be me. If Kyle thought I was boring, what would Liam think? He doesn’t do monogamy because he likes variety.
I definitely wouldn’t be spicy enough for him.
My lust-fogged brain wants to believe that Liam stayed and watched because he was interested in me… but he turned me down.
Last night he saidwe’ll talk tomorrow,but coherent, sensible conversation is impossible while my vagina pulses whenever I think of him. He’s already blaming my overzealous attention on alcohol, but I wasn’t drunk when I looked at him while touching myself.
How long until he remembers that part and then has to feed me the I-love-you-as-a-friend line?
Keys jangle in the door.
I splutter on the last bite of the sandwich, almost choking in surprise. He’s back early.
My feet scurry across the tile floor, and I dart to my room before the front door opens. I flatten my back to the hardwood of my closed door and try to catch my breath.
I can only hide for so long before he will look for me with that sweet, friendly smile that will break my heart.
Going out with Ally tonight is the best way to avoid him. I can find someone to work off these urges and not care what they think. Then, when Liam gives me the speech about loving me like afriend,I can agree instead of wanting him to do more than watch next time.
As quietly as possible, I grab a bag and stuff it with everything I’ll need to get ready at Ally’s place tonight.
