“You’re screwing someone,” laughed India over lunch. She tossed her wild, gorgeous blonde hair over one shoulder and pierced me with her shrewd green gaze. “Don’t tell me I can’t recognize the orgasm glow lighting up your cheeks, you, secretive bitch.” She’s a woman of business and a gossip at heart. “Now I need details since I’m in a dry spell, I’ll live through your vagina. Spill.”

Touching the purple tips of my hair nervously I grinned at India’s brash, zero filter tongue.

I love that about her, but honest to god sometimes I wished she’d hold it back, at least when it was directed at me.

Because how do I tell her that I’m having the best sex of my life, in a relationship that could -it already did- mean the world to me but it’s with my best friend?

My queer best friend she knows tipped the scale all the way over the rainbow …or did until he started digging his dick inside me and now I’m not sure of anything other than I want him more than anything.

I could already hear the mountain of questions that will come at me and I’m not ready. Don’t think I’ll ever be ready for people’s judgement. Because I know in their place I’d be the same. The doubting Debbie feeling sorry for the idiot who believed they’ve straightened their gay lover.

I smiled and used the excuse of shoving a few crumbs of cheese bagel into my mouth to not reply instantly. It’s fine because India was checking out the young black waiter wearing the tight pants. He looked college age and a boy Indie would eat for breakfast. He’d probably have the time of his young life.

Orgasm glow. She’s not wrong. I feel the happiness on my skin while I stirred my coffee and licked the sweet cream from the spoon, thinking about this morning and the way Noah strolled into the bathroom while I was getting dry, pinned me to the wall and …
 

“You look beautiful.” He said, backing me up against the tiled wall with only the motion of his hard body stalking mine to get me moving. I clutched my towel like a maiden, not sure why, since I’d only just crawled naked from his bed, but it seemed a bit indecent now to hardly be wearing a stitch of clothing.

Even though Noah was naked.

Deliciously naked and didn’t care that he was.

It must be nice to be a guy with no body hang-ups.

My eyes didn’t even stray down. I’m literally winning at life.

A thrill arrested me with the way he’s looking. Deep. Intense. Unwavering. Not anywhere on my body, directly in the eyes.

I chuckled a little. “You must still have sleep in your eyes.” My hair was a wet, bedraggled mess after I’d soaked half a bottle of conditioner on it. With barely any sleep last night, all his fault, I’m sure my eyes are carrying around suitcases full of pillows.

Noah leaned in, pressed his chest into my hand clutching the towel around my boobs and he cranked his head down to brush his nose on mine. “I dare anyone to tell me different. Drop the towel.” He rasped, and all my insides turned to syrup.

His sexy, hooded lids trained on me. I trusted in his voice. In his presence feeling more like my own second skin surrounding me.

The towel fell and pooled around my feet.

Power and confidence oozed from him.

Sex appeal came at me from every ripped, perfectly formed muscle, his hand, strong and warm touched gently, laying claim. His palm, a little rough from the chin-lifts he did religiously every morning, stroked from my middle, around my belly button for a second and then he moved it up between my boobs and around my throat and it was the most erotic caress.

I was panting before he brought it to a stop against my nape.

Possessive grip.

Assured stroke.

If it were possible for a heart to squeal, mine did.

Since he’s touching me, I do some of my own and I took both hands feather soft down his chest to his belly. I found he liked his belly touched, not sure if it was one of his pleasure sensitive areas, it needed more research on my part and I was up to the job.

Grasping his pulsing erection poking against my fingers looking for attention, right at the root where I know he likes it held hardest, I tugged once and then again.

Noah expelled the sexiest grunt of air, it pumped confidence through me to roll him down my palm, up and down, firm and strong.

Harder. Longer. I knew how tight he liked it.

“You know what’s the difference between gay sex and sex with me?” I asked, smiling with our lips pressed together. I felt his twitch into a devastating smile and then Noah rolled up his brow. He’s so fucking sardonic all the time, it turned me on.

I felt it in the pit of my belly, all slosh and heat.

“Tell me. I’m dying to hear this.” The stroke of his fingers over my breasts never let up. He weighed them in his palms, pinched the tip and soothed with a caress.

Turned out Noah was such a tit man.

I do my own fondling and grinned I made him falter with a hiss as I rubbed the underside of his sensitive cock “There’s no need to find lube.” I told him cheekily. “I have what you need right here.” And didn’t I just show him by placing the tip of him at my entrance, letting him feel how incredibly ready I was.

Within a second, he had me hoisted up, my legs wrapped around his waist, my back pressed into the wall and I’m impaled like he’s trying to kill me.

And don’t I just scream loving it.

I paused, my eyes on his lips.

Noah grasped me around the nape, hauling me the rest of the way leaving only an inch of breath between us. “You hesitate to take my mouth like you’re unsure If I want to kiss you,” he said, no censor in his voice.

My cheeks pinked. Shit, he’s right.

“My cock is sunk inside you as far as it can go, Sena,” he proved this by squeezing my ass cheeks and flexed his hips, I felt him in my belly. My moan, hungry and agreeing. “You can assume I want your mouth.” He took it. A hot deep, caressing kiss that left my lips tingling and bruised. “My mouth is your mouth.”

My heart started beating wildly.

I kissed him.

He kissed me.

My tongue found its way inside his mouth...all the way inside until we tangled.

As deep as any lifeline almost as if we were on borrowed time and I had to squeeze in every slither of love I can. We made out like hungry teenagers.

And when he picked up speed I stopped thinking.

I’m only sensation until my orgasm shattered my body and Noah emptied inside me on a torn grunt, he pumped and held my hips steady then gave three shallow thrusts that made me shiver through aftershocks.

I loved this part of making love with him. The slow come down where he kissed and whispered sweet words to me. The orgasms were amazing, literally the best thing in the entire world, but this right here is what continues to burst my heart open with love for Noah. When he’s extra sweet as we kiss and test the boundaries to our new relationship.

“I love you, kitten.” He declared hoarsely.

I love you. I’m struck by the passion in his deep-set eyes flanked by the longest black lashes, heavy lidded post sex.

I love you.

I love you.

I don’t know what would have come out of my mouth as a response, because while my heart is knocking a heavy rap he set me down on the bathroom floor, kissed my cheek, my forehead, and then my lips and secured the towel around me once more, his hand rested on my hip for a second. A branding touch. “I’ll go make your coffee.” He informed.

I love you.

But what kind of love does Noah feel? I want to ask badly, more than I’ve wanted to know anything.

He loves me, that’s enough.

I love you, too. I should have said.

I fucking worship and adore you.

My heart is only yours.
 

“I’m seeing someone.” Understatement of the decade. “It’s still new so I don’t want to jinx it.”

“Must be the season for it. I saw dark and broody earlier this week when I was in midtown, he said he’s been seeing a lot of Noah again.”

The bottom fell out of my belly because I knew immediately who she was talking about. It couldn’t be anyone else and it confirmed my suspicions of the last few weeks.

Tom the dickdouche. Ugh.

“You didn’t tell me your hubby was back with him. I thought mister supermodel cheated? I swear the gays switch out their boyfriends like sweaters but damn, he is a tall drink of chocolate milk, Sen, have you seen him lately? Those fuck-me eyes, whoa. And his perfect bow lips! I wish I had a dick, just for a day so I could test him out. Maybe he’s bi?” Indie’s running conversation went on and on while my brain exploded all over my ham and cheese stuffed croissant. The morsel I’d eaten sat like cement in my belly turning the acid into lighter fuel. I felt so sick suddenly I know tears gathered behind my eyelids. If I dared blink they’ll fall.

Tom.

I’d known it. I shouldn’t be surprised.

That fucking guy. He’s like a bad case of herpes.

Only worse, since it seems there’s no cure to get rid of him. He’s an annoying boomerang giving me hypertension as I sit in a cafe full of people while my heart went through rolls of panic.

Was Noah giving him a second chance?

Would he do that me?

Why hasn’t he told me his ex has made a reappearance?

Better question being why haven’t I mentioned I saw him coming from his apartment? I realized all the answers correlate together; I’m afraid of it.

“Noah hasn’t said anything.” I chimed into the conversation finally because India was giving me that concerned look. I was feeling so fucking foolish. “What did Tom say? He was at the penthouse a few months back, but I haven’t seen him since.” I ignore the weird expression on her face in favor of pouring too much sugar into my already sweetened coffee. I needed my hands busy or I might, I don’t know, start throwing tables or something.

“He was going to a meeting and said he was looking forward to seeing Noah’s new club that night. I joked about him romancing the King of Manhattan again, he laughed and didn’t deny it. But you haven’t said they were back on, so I wasn’t sure. He sounded resolute when he told me he was seeing a lot of Noah again.”

I nod in all the right places as my heart constricted.

He’s seeing a lot of Noah.

It could be absolutely nothing.

And everything.

When reality hit, it hit like a heavyweight boxer in the seventh round.

Tom was my reality I realized.

He’s the gay door I’ve been hiding behind.

I know I haven’t said anything for a while when Indie tapped my arm. My eyes lifted. “You okay, babe, you look pale suddenly?”

“Yeah. I’m—I feel a little odd. Too much sugar, probably. Do you mind if I cut out early?”

We say our goodbyes outside with a hug and a promise to catch up soon.

New York was busy. Just like every other day and I can honestly say I didn’t take any of it in. I don’t meet anyone’s eyes and give them a friendly southern smile. I don’t pass a minute with the friendly guy who sells flowers on a stall on the corner of third. I don’t admire Times Square and snap a few pics off for my Instagram as I always do. I trudge through the crowd, my insides cold and my mind ready to explode because now I have doubts festering.

Big, gloomy, ugly festering doubts.

We had sex this morning. Really fucking great sex. Sex that left me feeling changed. He told me he loved me. But what love is it? Love or love love? The kind of love you profess when someone brings you a latte and a walnut muffin? It’s not the first time he’s said those words to me, but that was before we were something more than friends.

I’m so confused my underline feeling was I just wanted to find Noah and ask him outright what the deal is with us. Is he dating Tom the dickdouche again?

As all women are prone to do in times of panic and utter hormonal stress pounding my mind with ten billion unanswered questions, I ignored the logical side to my brain telling me to just fucking call Noah and I went home.

Working for seven solid hours helped. Doing it on coffee and denial was better.

I figured after the sixth hour and a lot of jittery caffeine intake that I’m reading too much into things. I went too far to the girl dark side and made a mountain out of a molehill.

Fuck. I’m probably getting my period. Those hormones always fuck me up mentally. No wonder I’m craving cheese like a crackhead. The crimson freaking wave was making me potty as momma would say.

And then as a Thunderbolt went off in my brain, shot by clarity and a gnaw of panic, I pushed away from my desk like I was on fire.

Shit.

Couldn’t be…

 

 

~*~*~

 

When night drifted through the sky I dressed in dark denim jeggings and a mid-waist leather jacket I absolutely had to have in the last spring sales when it was a hundred degrees every single day. I bided my time though, because now the season was cooler I loved the hell out of it.

As my momma would say we wait for the things most worth it.

With my ensemble finished with a pair of heeled booties, I took an Uber to Frost where I knew Noah would be tonight, because he’s hosting one of those reality stars for an appearance. For once I’m not excited to mingle and enjoy myself.

Too much on my mind.

I didn’t really want to have a confrontation, but now circumstances meant I could no longer bury my head in the sand.

The hits kept on coming as I’m about to pay the driver. Out of the corner of my eye, striding up to the door dressed in a wool coat, no doubt designer since it fits him perfectly, was Tom bumping hands with Miles.

For a hot second, I considered asking the driver to take me back to my apartment. I could not be polite to this guy like I didn’t want to smack him in the pretty boy model face every single minute in his company.

I didn’t move, because something inside wouldn’t let me turn around. I had more right to be here than Tom did, and I figured only my own insecurities rising their ugly head had me feeling inferior to him.

Hearsay does not a truth make, and Noah had never given me a reason to distrust him. He’s probably the one person besides my parents who I do trust implicitly.

But whatever divine fate is on my side took a coffee break because Tom somehow looked my way at the right time and saw me through the car window.

He sees me clearly and he smirked.

That jack-rabbit manwhore smirked right at me.

The sarcastic asshole can go fuck himself and take his pretty, model face with him. I shoved a twenty at the driver, paying far too much for what was a five-minute journey and I exited in time to see Tom striding inside.

Taking my time, I’m in no rush to see him again, but I do need to talk to Noah. Maybe tonight isn’t the best time while he’s hosting TV royalty, but I know he’ll make time for me sometime during the evening and I can always wait in his office. It beats the other option of having to sit with the dickdouche and his massive ego, there’s not enough room at the same table for all three of us.

He hated me on sight and It didn’t improved since their break up.

No one told him to fall on someone else’s dick so him being salty was all on Tom.

Some men, even the extra gorgeous ones with flawless skin and money pouring out of their eyeballs, are just born assholes. Tom the supermodel being their leader. It’s not just the way he was with Noah. I found him aloof and arrogant, like he was god’s gift and we the peasants need to thank god for his existence.

I’d rather worship Peppa Pig, thanks.

Spending a few minutes with Miles while he gushed about his new baby, I took that moment to gather my thoughts in an order I wanted to voice them to Noah.

I can’t calm. Not when my nerves were on fire.  

It’s rather convenient he’s here though. Maybe I can tell Tom to go fuck himself right to his face. That’ll teach him to smirk at me like he has secrets.

Fuck his secrets.

We all have those.

I maneuver my way through the crowd gathering near the toilets, excited women gossiping about making out with who-ever-it-was here tonight. I recognized his name, but I can’t place a face to it. It shows how out of it I am because I am stellar with TV personalities. I won’t brag but I always win the trivia quiz back home, just ask anyone, I’m great.

Jesus. I’m nervous. I felt my spine lock up.

I kept on going, deeper to the heart of the nightclub. Lights, music, and roaring noise and none of it registered to me, not really.

I love him. Noah loves me. He said so.

And now I can’t wait to see him, to tell him I love him, too. I have nothing to worry about. Nothing at all… about anything and as soon as I tell him—

Noah was a big man. Tom is equally tall.

I see both men with no trouble at all standing over by the mirrored back-lit bar with the many hundreds of bottles on shelves.

And my world crashed.

It doesn’t just crash. It blew to smithereens.

I heard a pained animal noise and wondered where it came from through all this background noise and realized it’s me making it.

It’s strangled hurt.

It’s destroyed.

Noah and Tom standing too close. Far too close.

Tom with his dark head inclined towards Noah, they’re smiling.

Through my rapid heartbeat I saw Tom’s lips moving, but can’t make out the words and his hand—his fucking hand is on the side of Noah’s neck as if they’re about to—

I can’t watch. My eyes won’t let me.

Survival mode kicked in

Bile threatened to rush up my throat. I’m going to be sick.

I’m going to die.

Get over there. Demand to know what’s going on. My brain screamed at me. Don’t fucking take this, Sena! Get your ass through this fucking crowd and punch one of them and demand an answer.

But I do nothing.

In fact, I turned, and begin walking on jelly legs. I pushed myself through people, my sheer will the only thing keeping me going, not caring when more than one person called me a rude bitch. Fuck them, I just had my world broken.

How stupid I’ve been.

How utterly foolish I feel.

It was going to be a kiss. Wasn’t it? If I’d kept watching I would have seen Noah’s mouth on Tom’s.

It not only washed me through, it was a Tsunami. I can barely breathe through the agony of seeing my Noah standing in the personal space as his ex-lover with obvious feelings on their faces.

I’m not blind.

I might be pathetic, but I have twenty-twenty. I didn’t mistake what I saw in there.

I don’t lie to you, Sena.

I won’t hurt you, Sena.

He lied to me.

I’m such a fucking, pathetic idiot believing we could ever have something.

How dumb does a woman need to be to believe her gay best friend suddenly fell out of being queer?

Fuck.

How crazy.

The problem was, love couldn’t always be enough and no matter what people try to say, it couldn’t be unreserved. Love without walls meant no one thinks about the other side of the equation—the balance becomes all wrong, they don’t consider how their behavior or actions might upset someone else.

It's self-centred to love that way.

It's corrupt.

I love him beyond anything and everyone and that is part of why I feel so badly now. I was part of the problem in burying my head beneath the good and ignoring what I knew.

Ask him. Get back there and confront him. You are not running!

I can’t, and I don’t care. Every inch of me hurt, a dull, pulling pain, as if I’m slowly being ripped from the inside by something very blunt.

I felt every rip until I wanted to double over and scream.

My throat seemed to expand, closing, convulsed, holding in the screams that are reverberating around my head.

I ignore Miles calling out to me confused as to why I’m leaving so soon. “Are you okay, sugar?”

No. I’m not okay. I’m far from okay.

I bumped into a group of people on the street laughing while my world collapsed.

Maybe I saw things wrong?

It’s possible. I think. Maybe.

Even the possibility of it felt like sharp glass against the inside of my head.

I know what I saw. Tom cupping the side of Noah’s face in an intimate touch between lovers, smiling before the kiss.

It’s burned on the back of my eyelids.  

Noah knew I was coming tonight, why would he want Tom here, too?

What did he think he’d do, fuck Tom in his office and then entertain me in there like nothing happened?

Nothing screwed you harder than heartache.

I walked.

I walked.

With no destination other than my tears guided me.

It’s scary how eerily fast life can turn to utter shit.

It is presumed Hell is full of fire. I'm guessing it’s perpetual heart drowning.

My heart was littered with battered promises that I stupidly fell for, so who was to blame really? What’s that saying; You can lead a horse to toxic water, but if that horses drinks it he's the idiot in the end.

I fed myself lies and ate well simply because it was what I wanted to believe. My love drove me on.

Noah is not a malicious man, not with me, anyway. He never treated me any other way than lovely.

I know one thing for absolute.

Sex ruined everything.

Sex is the fucking devil in disguise. He comes in on a wave of pleasure muddying the water until you can't see the bottom of reason any longer.

My head buzzed.

My heart seized.

I thought we were rock solid.

My best friend.

My everything.

It’s a hard lesson to learn to know the ones we loved the most are those that make us cry the hardest.

Love doesn't equal protection. And I realized it too late.

Sometimes love became unimaginable pain and despair. It became the monster we hide from, it morphed into ugliness and insecurity.

Maybe I was wrong. It’s possible. Go back.

I can’t. When my phone vibrated in my pocket, I’m startled to see Noah’s name. I instantly wanted to talk to him but until my thoughts were sane I couldn’t face him or what I might say.

My belly lurched cutting off the call, I switched my phone off.

Was Noah cheating on me the same way Tom cheated on him?

Are we just friends who fooled around for an orgasm?

Am I the other woman?

I’m lost in questions. And I know I’m so quick to jump ship in my own fear because this is what I’ve dreaded all along. I knew it was too good to be true, right?

Love isn't this all good and celestial bubble.

At least, my love didn’t appear that way anymore. I was blindsided by my own feelings and I hate I left without answers. I’m not a runner, I hate conflict but until I saw Tom going in for a kiss with Noah I was confident in what we had.

It crashed in seconds.

Had. I’m already thinking of us as past tense.

Love; the biggest confidence boost and soul destroyer at the same time.

My overall emotion is foolish.

I sighed and kept on walking, my hand swiping at the tears I despise.

I’m foolish, get the hell over it.

Fighting against the current. Change speeding up like a swelling tide against me, and I am without an anchor. My anchor is back there at Frost probably laughing and lip locked with an asshole who doesn’t deserve him.

I’m angry about that, too, I realized. Noah wasn’t someone to get trampled on. Why the fuck is he letting Tom back in?

I’m foolish.

And alone.

Well, not quite.

Because back home, sitting on my bathroom counter is three pee-sticks alerting how not alone I am.

Yeah, life has well and truly screwed me over, and I have no idea what I’m going to do now.

So, I walked.

I walked, and I didn’t stop.