Before
“I don’t want to take your car, because more of us can fit into mine. I also don’t want to be stuck without a ride home if I want to leave.” Ella stands before me with her hands on her hips, daring me to say something. She smells like coconut and zinc oxide, and her skin carries the sheen of freshly applied sunblock. It softens my annoyance, but not enough to keep me from running my mouth.
It’s cute that after all this time, she thinks I’m intimidated by the tap of her foot and the narrowing of her eyes. “You’re fucking precious, Ella. Get your shit together and get in my car.”
She grabs her beach bag from her bed and walks past me. Her hair brushes against my arm, and it lessens my irritation a little more—just not enough. Today is a rare occasion when Ella and I have a day off from the hospital together. The plan is to get some sand and sun. The plan was not to have everyone invite themselves when they found out we’re going to Malibu for the day. But our plans got fucked up.
We’re all going to the beach.
Together.
All of us.
One big happy family.
I had the entire day mapped out. We were going to drink ice-cold beer, eat good food, and spend the day in the ocean and on the seashore until our skin turned red we’d need to rub aloe gel all over each other.
Ella delivered the good news when I arrived to pick her up this morning. She’s as upset as I am, but she doesn’t want to ruin her only day off and wants to make the most of it, like these motherfuckers aren’t ruining my life.
I don’t want to hang with them today. I want my friend.
“More of us can fit in the Mercedes, Teller,” she says, tossing her bag onto the couch. She drops the drawstring shorts she’s wearing to her ankles, throwing me off my game. “Why would we drive separate cars when we’re going to the same place?”
“What—what are you doing?” I ask as she steps out of the shorts.
“I haven’t had time to fold my clothes,” she answers. Ella pulls her shirt over her head, leaving herself in nothing but a black bathing suit that covers only enough to keep things interesting. “I haven’t had time to do anything lately.”
She is all legs, and breasts, and fuck me, this girl is gorgeous. Her voice fades under the sound of my beating heart. My mouth is dry, and then it’s too wet. I pat my pockets for the pack of cigarettes I left in the glove compartment as she digs through a basket of laundry on the coffee table.
The ties holding her bottoms up sway against her hips, past beauty marks and the right amount of curves.
I can easily untie those with my teeth. Easily.
Take off the top. Take off the top.
“Earth to Teller.” Ella waves her hand back and forth to grab my attention. “Have you even listened to a single word I’ve said?”
Blinking my eyes and shaking my head, I drag my eyes up the length of her legs to her face. She’s holding a wrinkled dress in her hand, and she’s tapping her foot again.
“No,” I admit, plotting different ways I can destroy every article of clothing she owns except for the swimsuit she’s in.
Her tits are fucking perfect. The curve from her ass to her thighs keeps me up at night. The length of her neck is the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Ella is soft in the right spots, and sharp where she needs to be. Seeing this girl in a bikini never gets old, and it only gets better and better each time.
How many times have I had those legs wrapped around me? Whatever the number is, it’s not enough. Just to be there, between her knees, not even inside of her … just to be there. I miss the warmth of her skin, the sound of her breathing hard, and the way her chest heaves up and down, up and down.
Joe is cool, but she was mine first.
“What the hell is your problem?” Ella pulls the dress up her body, covering smoothness and roundness and freckles. “You’re such a spaz sometimes.”
Fuck that dress, I think to myself. Fuck our schedules, fuck our families for imposing on our day, and fuck Joe.
“When’s the last time we’ve been alone?” I ask. “We’re always at the hospital, or you’re always with Joe. Where do I fit in this equation, Smella? I need some fucking time, too.”
There isn’t a people-pleasing bone in Ella’s body, but she does have a soft spot with my name on it. If anyone else demanded her time the way I do, she’d easily dismiss them. But I’m different. We’re different for each other, and I don’t have a problem laying on the guilt, so I can get this one day on the beach with my favorite person.
“You’re right. This was supposed to be just the two of us.” Her shoulders drop, and she sticks her bottom lip out dramatically.
Teller: 1
Ella: 0
“We can take your car if you want, but I want you to do me a favor first.” She stands right in front of me, lifting onto her tippy toes to rub her nose along my jawline. A light kiss is pressed on the spot below my ear.
My body temperature is on the rise, and the beach is overrated. We only have one day off, and we should spend it inside, under the covers, preferably without clothes on. I want to touch her so bad. She’s in the perfect position for me to reach and grab her little ass.
I close my eyes and clench my jaw until my teeth feel like they’re going to break. If I breathe, I’ll inhale sweet coconut and desire, and I’ll have no choice other than to hump my best friend.
“Teller?” she asks in a breathless tone.
I swallow and nod.
No talking.
I’d have to breathe to do that.
“Quit bullshitting me.” She laughs, shoving my shoulder. Ella drops from her toes and pinches my nipple. I fall forward against her, grabbing a fistful of her dress. “We are taking the Mercedes.”
“No, we are not. Those motherfuckers can find their own rides.”
“No.” She tries to bite me.
“Yes.”
“You better let go of my dress.”
“You first, Smella.” I’m not letting go until she does. Besides, from this view I get a great look at her tits.
“Okay, children, no playing in the house,” Nicolette says in a singsong voice.
The ice queen is ignorable as I fight for the integrity of my nipple. “Ella, on the count of three, we let go. Deal?”
“Deal.”
I count, “One, two, three—”
Neither one of us lets go, and she twists harder. I want to keep my body intact, so I give in and release the hold I have on her dress. After one more pinch, she sets me free with a wink.
I inspect the damage, expecting broken skin and split nipples, but I’m just red. I rub my hands over the tender part and look up at Ella to call her a whore, but I recognize the look in her eyes.
“Like what you see? You know, all you have to do is dump that boyfriend and I’m all yours.” I make it a point to keep my shirt up. She’s dazzled as fuck.
“I don’t think Joe or Kristi would appreciate any of this,” Nicolette says from the kitchen.
I pull my shirt down and say, “And I don’t think that Emerson would appreciate knowing that you slept with the entire football team in high school.”
“You’re such an asshole,” she fires back. She slams her palm on the kitchen counter and squares her shoulders, always ready for a fight.
“Okay, Teller, let’s go.” Ella grabs me by the elbow and pulls me toward the door. “If we don’t leave, all the good spots on the beach will be taken.”
I put my arm around Ella and kiss the top of her head just to piss the blonde devil off in the kitchen. She can tell Kristi anything she wants. Kristi knows where she stands in my life. Unfortunately for her, it’s behind Ella.
“Yeah, go get us a good spot on the beach.” Nic shoos us out of the apartment.
Everything seems to be going my way until we reach the parking lot. My BMW is parked at the end of the lot, and as we step onto the hot asphalt, Ella pushes away from me and walks a few paces ahead. She waits beside the passenger side door for me, with her bag over her shoulder and her arms crossed.
“What? What did I do now?” I ask, unlocking the doors.
“Don’t fight with her like that. She does it on purpose.” Ella argues with me over the hood of the car.
“She started it.”
She rolls her eyes. “Seriously, Tell? Are we sixteen years old?”
When we’re buckled in and I’ve started the car, I’ve officially won.
Teller: 2
Ella: 1
I gave her a point for the nipple pinch.
“Thanks for driving with me, Ella.” I smile, trying to relax the mood. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. “We’re not going to wait, right? Because I don’t feel like hearing Joe’s shit about having to drive his own car.”
“Shut up and drive before I change my mind. He’s going to be pissed.” She shakes her head, trying not to smile.
I reach over and pull her hand into mine. She looks at me and smiles. I love stealing her and getting away. There’s no pressure with Ella. It’s always been her and me against the world.
“Do you want to eat now or later, Ella?” I ask, trying to make conversation.
What does it mean that I’m nowhere as concerned for Kristi’s reaction as she is about Joseph’s?
“Later. Let’s just get there.” She sighs. “I should call Joe.”
Not a good idea.
Joe is cool. He’s passive. He’s non-confrontational. But he’s also a man. He claims to accept how close Ella and I are and doesn’t protest when we spend time together, but there’s no fucking way he isn’t intimated by my relationship with her. Kristi has no problem voicing how weird she thinks I act with Gabriella, and she hasn’t been around nearly as long as Joe has.
But every once in a while I need this.
Just us.
“Wait until we are out of reach. I don’t want him manipulating you into riding with him. Today, you’re mine.”
Ella scoffs. “Joe isn’t the manipulating type, Teller. That’s you. And what about Kristi? Are you going to call her?” she asks spitefully.
“No, I didn’t want her to come in the first place. She can catch a ride with Joe.” I unsuccessfully keep the bite from my tone. Kristi and I go through the motions. We say the right words, we do the right things when we’re in front of other people, and we find comfort in each other. But something isn’t right, and if we’re going to be wrong, we may as well do it together. It’s better than being alone.
“Poor Kristi.” Ella doesn’t have a relationship with Kristi outside of me. They tolerate each other, offering appropriate politeness and hospitality when needed. But they’re not together for long hours like Joe and I are. He and I have a working relationship as well as a friendship. Ella is spared that torture. So, when Ella says poor Kristi, it’s not frank; it’s scripted.
It’s fucked up.
Why do Joe and Kristi deal with it?
I have no idea.
Ella does a shitty job of keeping the smile from spreading across her face. “She’s going to leave you.”
“Not likely. Besides, she’s free to go whenever the fuck she likes. You, on the other hand—You don’t have that option.”
“I can friend dump you.” Ella laughs.
I look over, flash my famous crooked smile, and watch her turn red. “I don’t think you could.”
“Shut up! That’s cheating.”
I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss along her knuckles. Then, I turn the music up and race to Malibu.
The air becomes less stifling and saltier as we leave the city and drive closer to the coast. Skyscrapers are exchanged for cliff sides and greenery. Ella drapes her hair over the back of her seat, letting the sun warm her face. We talk, and laugh, and drive in comfortable silence the entire way there. I assume we’ve left our baggage in Hollywood, but when we pull up to the beach parking lot, she pulls out her cell.
“What are you doing?” I can take the phone and throw it into the deep blue motherfucking sea, but let’s not be hasty.
“Calling Joe. I’m surprised he hasn’t figured out we ditched him already.”
I find a spot and park the car, waiting to unpack the trunk until I hear this.
“Hey, Joe.” Ella looks at me and bites on her bottom lip, shaking her head. “Well, Teller got to the apartment early, so I just left with him. I figured you could ride with Em or Maby,” she tries to explain, pulling the phone from her ear. She puts her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. “Don’t be mad, Joe. I’ll see you when you get here—bye.”
“Did you hang up on him?”
She hangs up the phone and looks at me. “He’s so pissed.”
“He’ll get over it.” It’s hot, really fucking hot, and in about fifteen minutes Ella will be in her bikini and I will be here to put suntan oil all over her—I fucking love California.
I get the cooler and Ella manages to carry our bags and the chairs. The beach is crowded today, but we find a good spot that has a fire pit and good sand. Then again, all sand in Malibu is good sand, rich fucking sand.
I lay out our towels and unfold the chairs, looking up as Ella strips out of her unnecessary clothing. Her hair falls over her exposed skin, and it drives me fucking insane. She throws her dress to the side and places her sunglasses over her eyes. She’s changed so much since we were nineteen and twenty-year-old kids. Time and sun have done great things for her.
Kicking off my shoes, I lift my shirt over my head and throw it on top of her things. The blaring sun immediately stings the top of my shoulders. It’s welcomed. She and I both need a good dose of vitamin D. After I take a seat on the towel beside my girl’s chair, I crack open a couple beers to help start this day right.
“Teller, I needed this so badly.” She takes a long swig from the brew. Condensation drips over her fingers.
Placing the can into the cup holder, Ella leans back and buries her feet into the sand. Her knees are open, and I can see all the way up them. Her arms are flat on the armrests with her hands hanging over the edge. She looks so relaxed and so fucking sexy. The one fucking mole on her stomach calls my fucking name.
I want to touch her so badly—feel that electrical pull she has on me. I want to feel her thighs tighten around my hips and her fingernails dig into my back. Her naked chest on mine.
Fuck this, I have to touch her.
I bend down right in front of her and shuffle my way right between her legs, placing my hands on the outsides of her thighs.
She lifts her head up and pulls her glasses to her forehead, but she doesn’t move out of my grasp. “What are you doing?”
“Touching you. You’re far too beautiful for your own good.”
Ella thinks for a minute and nods. She drops her glasses over her eyes and lays her head back. “Tell me more.”
I run my hands up and down her thighs and kiss her navel. God, Joe will murder me if he finds out.
“You smell like coconuts and banana.”
“And?”
I run my nose along her stomach to her hip bone and lightly bite it. “Your hair turns a million colors in the sun.”
“Mmmm-hmmm.”
I untie her bikini with my teeth and place a wet kiss on the exposed area. “You taste like the sun.”
“The sun?”
I tie her bathing suit back up and lean over her, so my skin is touching hers. “Like summer—your skin tastes like fucking summertime.”
She reaches her arms around my neck, and I kiss from under her ear down to her collarbone. I’m getting hard, and if I don’t stop, I’m going to fuck her.
She was mine first.
“More,” she whispers.
I reach back and grab her arms from around my neck and kiss from her shoulder to her elbow. She exhales a slow moan, and I’m losing my self-control. Her skin feels like raw electricity, hot and biting. I can just imagine what my dick would feel like surrounded by it.
“Your skin burns me—calls me.”
“Teller?” Her voice is low, and her grip around my neck is tight.
I lift her arm I was kissing above her head and kiss down her rib cage. Always a thin line with Ella and me. A fine fucking line that cannot be crossed. Not now.
Jumping to my feet, I gather her in my arms and throw her over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she shrieks and laughs.
“We need cold water.”
Ella kicks her small sandy feet as I run toward the ocean. Her protests chase us, and we have an audience of pissed looking tiger moms and their curious husbands. They’d be really appalled to see me fuck Ella on the beach, though.
We need this.
Instead of throwing her in and chasing after her, I run as far as the waves will allow and dive in with her. Cool, salty water envelops us, whooshing past our ears and carrying us until we can’t touch the ocean bottom. The ocean turns us around, and we break apart. But not before I take a foot to the chest.
We break the surface, gulping for air and laughing. I’m clutching my chest.
“Teller, I’m sorry.” She swims over. “I didn’t mean to kick you.”
I’m not injured, but I play dead until she’s right in front of me. When she’s within arm’s length, I dive underwater and grab her by the hips, launching her into the air. Ella curves her back, and she falls backwards, hitting the water with a splash.
She emerges and rubs water from her eyes. “You’re such a jerk.”
“I know, but you love his jerk.”
“I do.”
She circles her arms around my neck, and I swim toward the shore with her on my back. There are not many waves today, so this is relatively easy. Her wet skin rubbing on mine is not helping our case. She feels like silk, and the saltwater only intensifies her smell.
I guess either way we are fucked, if we’re lucky.
I swim in circles while Ella holds on, running her fingers through my wet hair. She kisses my shoulder and whispers in my ear, “Your hair turns colors in the sun, too.”
“It does?”
“Yeah, it’s so dark, almost black. But in the sun, it’s rich. It’s like chocolate.”
Stopping where my feet can touch, I swing Ella around until she’s in front of me and her feet are hooked around the small of my back. I stare at her saltwater wet lips. Out of all the places on her body I’ve kissed, her lips are not one. It’s been close, but never really.
I could kiss her now. I could kiss her, and she would be mine.
“Tell me more.” I use her words from earlier.
She pulls her hand out of my hair and rubs one finger down my face to my neck, swirling it around my Adam’s apple.
“I think this is incredibly sexy.” She smiles.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“What else?” I ask, spinning us in little circles.
“I am obsessed with the freckles all over your body. Especially the ones that are only visible if I look really, really closely. The freckles across your nose are my favorite, but the ones on your back are so hot.”
Ella drags her nails across my shoulder blades. “I wonder what they would look like with scratch marks across them.”
I cough, and she giggles.
I move her hair off her shoulder and place a small kiss there.
“And?” I dig for more.
“You smell like cigarettes and gum. The scent of tobacco always takes me back to you, and I chew the same kind of gum you do to know what your mouth tastes like.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my breath. Deep down, I want to do the right thing. Deep down, I don’t want to hurt Joe or Kristi. Deep down, I know we have always done this all wrong. She’s making it so hard. She’s making me so hard. I would only need to thrust against her to prove how fucking hard she’s making this.
I open my eyes, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. Ella’s eyelashes are wet and clumped together, framing dark brown eyes that have nearly gone black. She pulls me closer, pressing her chest flush with mine. She exhales, and I inhale. We come closer, closer, almost touching. The tip of her nose skims past mine. Ella closes her eyes now, and I press my lips to the corner of her mouth.
She whimpers.
“Ella?” I say before it’s too late.
“Shh.” She shakes her head softly.
“Are you sure?”
I don’t know how she does it. Ella pulls me closer, until our heartbeats are touching.
I’m going to kiss her—finally. I’m going to kiss her.
Over Ella’s shoulder, I look to find Emerson and Nic at the edge of the water watching us. Em waves hesitantly, and Nic walks away.
“Fuck,” I groan. “Your brother is here.”
Out-of-breath-like-me drops her forehead to my shoulder and whispers, “Dammit.”
“I only see him and Nic,” I say to put her at ease.
“We can’t keep doing this, Teller.”
“Can’t help it,” I say, keeping her close.
“Well, we’re going to have to.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t feel it, Ella.” It’s a struggle to keep my lips away from hers. “It’s always been this way with us. It’s not going to go away.”
“Come on, Tell. I don’t want to have this argument right now.” She falls to her feet, letting the water come between us.
Fighting for her is something I’m always ready for. Only, this isn’t the place. I’m starting to believe there will never be the right time or place to finally admit we belong together. The world doesn’t give us favors. Why would it start now?
I trail behind her out of the water, shaking it from my arms and wiping it from my face when I reach the sand. Emerson offers Ella a towel, and she blankets her brother with fake smiles and over-delivered welcomes. I’m not in the mood for fake pleasantries and continue to the spot where our things are.
“Did you just get here?” she asks with a hint of panic in her voice. They follow behind me.
Emerson has an unusually high tolerance for bullshit, especially when it comes to his sister. He must have reached his quota for patience this month, because his tone is harsh, and his words are sharp. “I did. And I didn’t expect to see my sister in such a compromising position when I got here. You’re lucky Joe and Kristi drove up with Maby.”
“We were swimming,” she answers.
“What was that called, the fuck stroke?”
“Did you seriously just say that to me?” she asks. Ella throws the towel at her brother’s chest and storms past us both.
Emerson and I hang back as she kicks up sand, aware it’s best to stay clear when she’s pissed. I’m less concerned with her anger and more absorbed with the way her hips sway. Em instantly feels guilty.
“I should apologize,” he says. “I don’t want her to get hurt, Teller.”
There’s no point in explaining that pain is part of living. No one gets through an entire existence without harming themselves and others. Especially for people like Ella and me, who make bad decision after bad decision. There’s no point in telling him that this is what we do. It’s part of the rush we’re dependent on.
There’s no point in admitting the pain feels as good as the pleasure.
“She’ll get over it.” I clap his shoulder and go after her.
My sister, Husher, Joe, and Kristi arrive twenty minutes later. Everyone falls into their respective roles, and what Emerson and Nic walked in on when they got here is never brought up.
As the day turns into night and the temperature drops, we light the fire and gather around in hoodies and under light blankets. Conversation is easy, and laughter comes in abundance. Orange and yellow flames redden Ella’s cheeks. She and I sit side-by-side, not touching but close enough to do so if we wanted to.
We steal looks from each other and see who can make the other laugh harder. We include Joe and Kristi; we exclude them. Ella and I are the only people on this planet one moment, and we are so fucking thankful for everyone in our lives the next.
As I watch the flames reflect in her eyes, I don’t know if we’ll ever figure us out. I don’t know if we’ll ever be together, get married, and have a family.
But I can’t wait to find out.