She continues to ramble as I take a long pull of my beer, but my attention is shot when I notice her nipples are hard under her shirt. Fuck, she’s not wearing a bra.
It’s going to be a long fucking night.
I clear my throat. “Pizza sounds good. How about you get that going while I put out this fire? We can watch a movie while we eat. Sound like a plan?”
The relieved look on her face answers before she does. “Perfect.” She stands, and I bite the inside of my cheek when she turns and looks around, most likely searching for something to tidy up like she usually does. But all she’s doing is giving me a view of her ass in those curve-hugging leggings and bringing back the memory I will in fact never forget. “Need any help putting out that fire before I go?” She smiles, knowing damn well she has no clue how to do so, but in true Daisy fashion, she would find a way if I actually needed help.
Little does she know that between her leggings and her thin T-shirt, she’s only stoking the fires of my desire for her, which is doing the exact opposite of helping.
“All good. Let me know if you need help with the oven.” I tip my beer in the direction of the house.
She rolls her eyes and smiles, then makes her way up the few steps onto the deck and finally inside my home.
I’ll have to wait a few minutes before I get to work on putting out this fire.
Because if I stand now and Daisy looks out here, she’ll know that I’m a terrible friend.
Because friends don’t get hard when told not to think of their friends’ naked bodies.
Or when thinking about how they’ll be alone under the same roof for the first time ever.
No, no they don’t.
So I sit back and allow myself to finally come to terms with the truth I’ve suppressed since the moment I laid eyes on Daisy.
I want to be much more than just her friend.
seven
It takes Luke aneternity to come back inside the house.
Who knew putting out small fires took so long.
The pizza is already cut and cooling on the counter. I’ve uncapped fresh beers and set them on the coffee table in front of the massive TV, and I’ve wiped down every surface I could get my hands on, even though they were already immaculate.
I wiggle my toes in relief. I don’t know how Luke always reads my mind, but the Band-Aids and warm socks were lifesavers.
The same can’t be said for the leggings I’m currently wearing. Since they are my “going out” pair, and not my “lounge in my bed” kind.
I eye the hoodie I left draped over one of the kitchen stools beside me. I used it as a pillow when I fell asleep in Luke’s truck, and it felt so soft and cozy. It smelled like him too, and I found myself acting like a total creep as I took more than a few deep breaths and nuzzled into it while he drove.
What do you want?
It’s such a simple question, but my mind always manages to make it as complex as humanly possible.
I’m always thinking of every possible outcome of the decision I make and how it could influence those around me.
A fun little party trick I picked up when I was a kid trying to get my dad’s attention, and not the disapproving kind.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist—hell, not even a second grader—to know that I have daddy issues. And even though I’m an advocate for therapy and have been going for years, I still haven’t managed to rewire the part of my brain that prevents me from feeling guilty when I feel like I’ve let someone down. Even if I logically understand the circumstances to not be my fault, my mind treats me like I’m public enemy number one and searches every avenue possible to reconcile the issue, even if it means disappointing myself.
That is, until I ran off into the woods with my best guy friend and shut off my phone, thus shutting out the world. Seems like I’ve run so far that the guilt has yet to catch up with me, even though I know many difficult conversations are still meant to be had.
I stare at Luke’s hoodie one more time.
What do you want?continues to ring in my mind.
It seems so silly to be this tormented over something so trivial, so without another moment of hesitation, I grab the hoodie and pull it over my head. It hits me right above the knees after I’ve pulled it down my body.
