BEWARE OF THE FRIEND-ZONE
If the sexual tension diminishes, you’re about to be sent to the corner of the friend zone. Fuck before it’s too late.
~ Harrison Everhart
Hunter
I FINISH THE drink I’ve been carrying from the smoothie shop. Drinking my dinner was the only meal we could agree on sharing together. Tossing the paper cup, it hits the side of the trash can before bouncing onto the pavement. Willow chuckles, fidgeting with her lower lip as I serve her with a pretend annoyed glare.
“Why do men pretend trash cans are basketball hoops?”
“My brothers and I go to the court at least once a week to shoot baskets,” I explain why I do it, not the reason for the rest of the male population. Do we really do that? Who cares, it’s fun.
Picking up the littered cup, I deposit it where it belongs and look at her. “Dinner is over, are you ready to talk about what happened?”
Tonight, I’d kill for a big, thick steak with a side of fries. Unless, she is ready for sex, or at the very least, some fooling around. We continue, slowly forging a relationship. Fuck, I’d say this woman is only interested in hanging out with me, avoiding the next step. In the meantime, my hands are having a torrid orgy with my dick and balls during my showers.
“During the day? I told you most of it.” She evades my question with a trivial answer. “The UPS guy winked at me, did I tell you? Next week he might ask me out.”
“Is that so?” I study her while she looks around the park.
Staring at her full lips, I stride toward her. Lifting my hand I comb her long, glossy hair setting it to the side. Bending closer, I place my lips on her neck, brushing them over her soft skin and finding her mouth where I pause. My eyes find hers, they shine with a light I haven’t seen before. Maybe it’s just lust—or maybe she wants me as much as I want her.
Fuck, I want to take her home. Damn, the fucking steak making my mouth water only seconds ago is a thing of the past. This is it, the moment I push back because up until now, she’s been pushing me to the friend zone. It isn’t the place I want to be, not with her. I want to tear her clothes off and drag my mouth over every corner of her smooth skin—biting her tits, licking her entrance, and making her come as many times as possible in one night.
“He wants to show me he’s a good grandfather,” Willow confesses, taking a step backward.
I keep falling for her even when she pushes me closer to the friend zone, and move further away from where I desire to be, inside of her.
“Sounds like you don’t believe him.”
“It’s complicated.”
The conversation circles to her parents’ abandonment.
“I begged them not to go. Mom said she couldn’t be with me.” Her eyes become watery, her chin quivers. “They would leave us with the neighbors. Karina McFee and her family of five children. It was a scary place, at least to me. Everything was too loud. It became scarier when they decided I was old enough to stay alone in our house with Hazel.”
The woman speaks, but I picture a small girl’s shaking body agonizing for her bed and toys. She’s missing her mom and dad. Most of all, she’s trying to be brave for her little sister. As she continues describing the years of turmoil, it becomes clear her mother isn’t fond of Grant Beesley. The man Willow depicts is nothing like the one I’ve known for years. I’m confused by the entire situation between her and Grant. But mostly about her parents. Most of the missionaries I’ve come across take their children with them. Why leave Willow and Hazel behind?
“I left right after graduation in hopes of a different life.” Tears pool in her eyes. “And Hazel . . .”
Closing her eyes, she takes a few breaths. “I had to leave her behind. But, she had Elliot, I told myself as I boarded the plane.”
The name catches my attention. That’s the name of Hazel’s ex-husband. I wish I knew the entire story. Willow stares at her fingers, then, she looks up at me. “I think he was in love with her from the moment he first saw her. It was only when they broke up that I learned they married when she turned eighteen.”
“It was my fault that she left California.” She looks down, her shoulders dropping. I squeeze her hand reassuringly. Her shaky voice is tearing my insides. “Maybe if she had stayed she’d be happy with Elliot.”
“Somedays I think it was my fault that my parents started traveling. Maybe something I did,” she says with a miserable look on her face.
My throat closes as she continues telling me about all the things that she feels happened because of her. For some inexplicable reason, the weight of the world lies on her shoulders. Even when she’s not making sense, I hold her tightly, letting her use me as support. At least, I hope that’s what she’s doing.
“Sorry.” She wipes her tears. I pull out a handkerchief from my pocket and pat her face lightly, wishing they were kisses instead.
Yes, kiss her. No, she’s too vulnerable. Do it, Hunter. If you don’t push back now, you’ll never leave the freaking friend zone. I bring my hand up to cup her cheek, resisting her is futile. I have to touch her silky skin. I must walk away from the friend zone.
“You carry unnecessary baggage. Have you ever considered sharing the load?” Her clear, green eyes widen when I wrap both hands around her back, pressing her closer to me. The hitch of her breath tightens my chest. I have the mad urge to kiss her hard, a kiss so deep her pain will disappear forever. Not yet, Hunter, wait for the signal. “I get it, your parents let you down. Being alone is all you know. Stop avoiding and pushing away those who are trying to help you.”
Honestly, I am not quite sure why I’m pushing to take the next step now. Other than, at the moment, the unnamed feeling she created when we met grows bigger—and my dick is throbbing against the zipper of my pants. Smooth, Hunter. You’re a class act, your mother would be ashamed of you. There, nothing like thinking about my mom watching me from heaven to control my body.
“We could go on with this dance for years. I take three steps forward, you take one to the right and four backward. The music changes depending on who is leading, most of the time you want to be the lead. This isn’t about sex. Although, I can’t tell you what I’d give to have you spread out in my bed underneath me so I could be deep inside you.”
“Hunter.” She gapes, letting out a soft whimper.
“Yes?” I ask hesitantly, afraid of what she’ll say next. I want to go to my house, walk her to my room, and push her against the wall. Her legs and arms twined around me. Pressing kisses to her mouth, her throat, her breasts. Slide my hands under her shirt, run them up and down her smooth skin. Promise her again and again I won’t leave her. I’m not like them.
“Sorry. I don’t think I’m ready for all this.” She closes her eyes, sighing. “There’s so much going on with me—I can’t fathom the thought of letting you down.”
“You wouldn’t, Willow.”
“Trust me, I always do.”
I open my mouth to argue, but my phone starts ringing. Fuck, Harrison. I let it go to voicemail. If it’s urgent, he’ll text. If not, he’ll wait until I call him back. My phone buzzes. Fuck. He’ll have to wait.
“How about a movie?” She steps away from my embrace, hugging herself.
I take off my jacket to cover her shoulders with it and place a kiss on the side of her neck. “Whatever you need, Willow. From now on, your happiness is my mission.”
Just be aware I’m not going back to the corner you’re trying to cage me into.