Chapter Fourteen
Levi
My plan has been in place for a week now, and I’m really just getting into the execution phase. I’ve been spending time off and on with Abby, while still maintaining my work schedule and my band practice schedule. It’s Friday night and I’ve been thinking about what I want to do for the last several days. Time to put the plan into motion.
Grabbing my phone, I shoot off a text.
Me: Plans tonight?
She responds right away, even though I know she has spent the day with one of her sisters.
Abby: Big date with The Brady Bunch.
Me: Not anymore. Be at my place at seven.
Abby: Why?
Me: It’s a surprise. No questions, no excuses. Be here. Wear something comfy.
Abby: You’re so weird. Not even a hint?
Me: You like my weirdness. Not even a hint.
Abby: Fine, I’ll be there. How comfy? Yoga pants and a no bra kinda comfy? *winky face*
Me: Whatever floats your boat, angel. Just be here.
Abby: Seriously, how comfy is comfy?
Me: Comfy.
Abby: You’re completely impossible sometimes.
Me: Another of my endearing qualities you love so much.
She doesn’t reply for a while, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t watching for those little bubbles on my phone to appear. Just when I start to get a little sweaty, I finally see them.
Abby: It’s more of a high tolerance because I’ve known you so long.
I laugh, almost picturing the way she’d smile at the phone while she typed that response.
Me: I appreciate your high level of tolerance. Seven.
Abby: I’ll be there. In my comfy clothes.
Smiling, I set my phone down and throw on some running shorts. If I’m going to spend a few hours with my gorgeous best friend without touching her, I might as well burn off some of this excess energy and sexual frustration with a run. If I had my way, there’d be a lot more of the sexual part and less tension. But that’s not gonna happen. I’m bound and determined to do this right and not jumping into bed with her is key.
Even if it kills me.
After running, I end up calling Tucker and having lunch. We’re on the rig together this weekend, so I’m sure he’s fucking around today like me. Though, I doubt he has the same plans as I do tonight. Tuck’s more of a love ‘em once and leave ‘em kinda guy. You know, like I used to be.
I meet him at the hotdog stand by the Bay, one of our favorite joints in town. It’s popular amongst residents and visitors alike. He’s already there, waiting in line to order when I arrive.
“Hey, man. Watcha want? I’ll buy today and you can get tomorrow night,” he says as I step up beside him.
“Three Chicago dogs and a bottle of water.”
When our order is placed and we’re given a number, we head over to find an open picnic table. There’s someone at every one, so we pick a table with a couple on one end and take the other end for ourselves.
“Big plans tonight?”
“Abby’s coming over,” I tell him, kicking back and extending my legs beneath the table.
“When are you gonna quit pussy-footing around it and just take her out on a real date?”
“What makes you think I’m not leading up to that tonight?” I taunt him, my eyebrows raised.
“No shit?”
“Well, it’s not an official date, but it’s a start.”
“So you just snapped your fingers and she fell in line?”
“Fuck no. When has Abby ever just fallen into line?” I ask, really trying to think of an instance and coming up empty.
“True. She’s always had you by the balls, man,” he says with a laugh.
“We’ll just see how tonight goes, all right?”
“I hear ya. Just be careful.” He gives me a straight, serious look. “I know she means a lot to you, and you’re afraid of fucking that up.”
“Tell me how you really feel, Dr. Phil.”
“Shut up. All I’m saying is go all in or not at all. That chick has always meant more to you than any other. Treat her right or you’ll lose her.”
He isn’t telling me something I don’t already know. It’s weird to hear it come from another friend, though. I thought I had been doing a better job of hiding the foreign feelings I’ve had for her recently. Apparently, I’m a piss-poor actor.
“I know. I can’t wait for something like this to happen to you one day,” I tell him, scarfing down my second dog.
“Not gonna happen. Why settle down with one piece of ass when you can have as many as you want?” His smirk reaches from ear to ear.
“Oh yeah, it’s definitely gonna happen. I can’t wait.”
“Fuck you,” he retorts, throwing his empty wrapper at me.
“Fifty bucks says you’ll be proposing by this time next year.”
“You are off your rocker, dumbass. Ain’t no way in Hell.”
“We’ll see,” I reply, giving my third hotdog my full attention.
If only Tucker knew I’ve been watching how he interacts with Heidi, an ER nurse at the hospital. He tries to play it off as casual, but he’s not fooling me. His eyes are always seeking her out or they’re following her ass around the emergency department. The fact that he hasn’t slept with her is enough to prove my point. Tucker lives his life by his balls, and if he’s not sleeping with someone and the interest is there, that’s telling.
Ol’ Tucker’s gonna go down hard.
Soon.
* * *
Five ‘til seven, there’s a short knock on my door before it opens. Even if I hadn’t heard her enter, I’d know she was here by the way the room shifts and my body reacts. I’m already carrying a club in my pants and she hasn’t even entered the kitchen yet.
“Hey,” she says as she steps around the corner from the front entry.
“Hey. I hope you’re hungry,” I tell her, setting the rest of the silverware down on my kitchen table.
“Starving,” she responds, setting her keys and phone on the counter. “Ever since I got your text this morning, my stomach has been growling.”
“Well, I hope your stomach is impressed with dinner tonight. I’ve got salmon and vegetables on the grill and rolls in the oven.”
“What’s this?” she asks, pointing to the tall cake pan on the counter.
“Dessert.”
“Yeah, but what is it?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.”
“What is up with you and all this secrecy?”
“It’s not secrecy, it’s a surprise. There’s a difference.”
“If you say so.”
“There is. One implies defiance or willingly withholding information. The other is only intended to temporarily withhold a detail with the intent of sharing. A proposal? Surprise. An affair? Secret.”
“Nice examples, Mr. Morgan. So which are you doing tonight? The proposal or the affair?” she asks with a smile, but I don’t miss the way something flitters across her face.
“Neither tonight, angel. Just dessert. And I promise you’ll find out soon. That’s why it’s a surprise. I have every intention of telling you.”
“So what else is going on? This is an awfully fancy set up tonight,” she states while taking in the use of all of the utensils in the place setting.
“I just wanted to treat my girl to a delicious meal to congratulate her on finishing another manuscript.”
“I’m not actually finished, though. That was just the first draft,” she says, helping herself to the wine I keep in the fridge just for her.
Reaching into the cabinet for the glass, I hand it to her. There’s no missing the way our fingers touch and sparks practically fly through the air. My entire body flares to life with that one little touch. It makes me crave her that much more.
“Doesn’t mean I’m not proud of you,” I tell her, holding the glass while she pours.
She takes a seat at the table, slowly sipping her white wine. Casual small talk is easy with her and tonight is no different. She asks about emergency calls I was on this week and tells me about the books she’s working on. Even when dinner is ready, we communicate and move side by side in the kitchen as if we’re an old couple who’s been married for twenty years.
“So, I have to ask,” I say, stabbing my mushroom with my fork. “Are you wearing a bra under that shirt?”
“What?” she asks, choking on her small bite of fish.
“I’m just trying to determine what stage of comfort you’re in for dinner tonight.”
“I’m not answering that,” she quips, trying to fight a smile.
“What if I told you I’m not wearing underwear?” I fire back.
Her laughter fills the room and my soul. It’s healing, a balm for all that ails me, just to hear her laugh. “I bet you never wear underwear,” she says, her face flushing a beautiful shade of fuchsia.
Leaning forward, I whisper, “Would you like to find out?”
Those green eyes darken with desire. There’s no denying it. This is why I know that taking the next step with her is appropriate. Even though she may not have said the words, it’s written all over her face and in her eyes. She wants me. That’s not being conceited or anything; it’s the truth. Her eyes don’t lie.
Abby brings her wine glass to her lips and guzzles the cold liquid. “What if I said yes?” Ahhhh, playful Abby has come out to play tonight.
“Did you say yes?” I ask, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
We stare at each other for several moments before she smiles. “Maybe some other time, big boy. I wouldn’t want that thing to fall out and land in your food,” she says, nodding towards the table, just above where my rock-hard dick is throbbing in my pants.
“Maybe some other time,” I say, stabbing my fish with my fork and taking my time chewing.
“Maybe.” When she takes another long drink of wine, I can tell she’s fighting a smile.
After dessert of frosted chocolate brownies, I take her into the living room, where I already have one of her all-time favorite movies queued up. The Breakfast Club begins as I sit back and get comfortable on the couch. This time, when I glance over at her, her entire face is lit up like a Christmas tree.
“You hate this movie.”
“But I like you, so I’m willing to suffer through the mid-80’s detention drama for you.”
Leaning back against the couch, she glances my way once more. “Thank you.” I just give her a return smile.
“Here, turn and face me and put your feet in my lap,” I instruct, patting my leg.
She laughs as she moves, placing her bare feet on my thigh. You thought my dick was hard before, you should see it now! Even her laughing at me can’t squash this massive boner.
“What are you laughing at?”
“This just reminds me of something AJ said earlier today. She went on a few dates with this guy who ended up with a foot fetish.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, he wanted to suck on them,” she tells me.
Grabbing a hold of one small foot, I give it a gentle squeeze, using my thumbs to dig into the arch of her foot. Her loud moan fills the entire room as the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard. And I’m not even fucking her. Could you imagine if I was? Jesus, the noises I could evoke from this petite, sexy woman is enough to give me wet dreams for life.
“Feel good?” I ask, my voice sounding deep and husky.
“That’s amazing.”
I don’t say another word–shit, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I keep rubbing one foot and then the other, massaging it and working my way up her calf. There’s a thrill racing through my body just at touching her. Could you imagine what it would be like to finally get her naked in my arms? Yeah, I almost come in my pants.
“And I didn’t even ask to suck on them,” I tease before swiping my finger over the arch of her foot, causing her to kick out. My girl is ticklish, this I know all too well. I’ve enjoyed tickling her on many occasions over the years.
Unfortunately this time, when she kicks, she kicks downward. Straight into my balls. Balls that were already swollen and blue are now…well, more swollen and bluer. I groan out a huff of air, bending down and all but cradling my throbbing balls in my hand.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” she exclaims, jumping up and sitting right next to me. “What can I do?” she asks, completely serious and full of worry.
“Angel, as much as I wouldn’t mind you touching my balls, now’s not a good time. I’m on the verge of throwing up and they’re suddenly not in the playing mood.”
Another blush sweeps up her neck and lands on both cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers.
“I forgive you. Just give me a moment to collect my thoughts.”
“Do you want something? Frozen peas? Tylenol?”
Laughing through the pain, I risk a glance at my best friend. “I’m alright, but I think you should turn and lean your head on me. Put those feet down on the other end,” I say, grabbing a pillow to set on my lap. Mostly so I can protect my balls, but also so she can’t feel the raging hard-on I still have, even after the shot to my twins.
“Are you sure you want me near you?” she teases, turning and getting ready to rest her head on my lap.
“I’m sure. But see if I ever offer to suck your toes for you again,” I say before laughter spills from my chest. She takes a swing at my chest, but misses, hitting the pillow that’s thankfully covering my junk.
“Oh my God, I almost did it again,” she says, horrified.
“Come ‘ere, slugger. Lie down before you make it so I can’t have kids one day.”
And just like that, she’s lying on my lap, putting pressure on my throbbing nuts just beneath the pillow. I ignore it, however, and just relish in the feel of her against me.
We watch most of the movie before she starts to doze off. It’s the perfect opportunity to drink her in, memorizing every curve, arch, and plane of her body. My hand has been rubbing her arm lightly since before she fell asleep, but I can’t seem to make myself stop. Nor can I stop looking at her sleeping form against the brown pillow on my lap. She’s angelic, breathtaking.
And I want her to be mine.
It’s getting late and as much as I’d love to just curl up on the couch again and fall asleep with her against me, I know it’s not the right thing to do. So I gently say her name and move that soft hair from her cheek to behind her ear. Her skin is soft, oh so very soft and I let my finger trail down her neck one time. Following the collar of her shirt, my finger traces her shoulder and around to her upper back.
She shivers against me and I know she’s awake. Yet she doesn’t say anything or move.
So I continue to touch her exposed skin with the side of my finger, down the hollow of her throat and into the top of her chest. I stop before I get anywhere close to her tits, even though I wouldn’t mind copping a feel. But it won’t be like this. When I cop a feel, she’ll be fully awake and begging for it.
“Angel, wake up. It’s already after one.”
“It is?” she asks through a yawn.
“Yeah, you should head home and crash. You have AJ’s birthday celebration tomorrow.”
“I wish you were going,” she whispers, still not opening her eyes.
“Me too.” And that’s the truth.
Slowly, she starts to sit up, moving those sleepy green eyes my way. I stand up first, reaching down and helping her off the couch. She stands directly in front of me, our bodies close enough to touch. She looks tired, yet so alive at the same time. I’ll be honest, I’m digging that look on her face right now. It’s raw and hungry.
Together, we walk towards the door. I wait until she grabs her keys and phone, her hand automatically retrieving the key to open her door.
“Thank you for dinner,” she whispers.
“You’re welcome, angel. Sleep tight,” I say, reaching up and grabbing that dark brown strand of hair that always falls in her face. Gently, I move it behind her ear, trailing the tip of my finger against her cheek as I go. I fucking love touching her. I can’t get enough.
She doesn’t say a word, just stares up at me with those big green eyes that make my heart feel like it’s salsa dancing in my chest. Before I even realize I’m on the move, I’ve got her pinned between my body and the door. Abby inhales sharply, but not in a way that conveys fear or worry. No, this is in shock, yes, but also in desire. Raw need and lust flush my entire body rapidly, the same look that’s reflecting in her eyes.
Pressing her into the wooden door, I lean ever so slightly into her body. “Go out with me.”
Her breath hitches against my lips. “We go out all the time.”
Shaking my head, I let my hand slide from her jaw into her hair. “Not as friends. Go out with me.”
“Out with you out with you? Like a date?” Her words hitch at the same time her body arches against me.
“Yeah, like a date.”
Her hypnotic green eyes search mine. I hope she sees my resolve, my loyalty, and my passion for her in the depths of my hazel ones.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” she whispers hesitantly.
“I think it’s the best idea I’ve ever had. I think we should go out, as a couple and not just friends. I think we owe it to ourselves to see what’s been happening between us lately. I know you feel it. It’s written in your eyes, angel. Go out with me.”
She searches my face more, her mind clearly weighing the pros and cons. I’m just about to give her more to add to the pro list, when she surprises both of us. “Okay.” Her mouth falls open and her eyes widen after she says it.
“No taking that back,” I quip, moving my hand from the hair behind her ear down her neck. “Next Saturday night. I’ll be off and can take you on the date you deserve.”
She closes her eyes and leans her head slightly into my hand. When she opens them again, she asks, “Are you sure?”
“Never been more sure of anything in my life,” I tell her honestly.
“Then I’ll see you Saturday night.”
“Oh, you’ll see me before Saturday, sweetheart. I’m still your best friend, Abs. You’ll still be inundated with my stupid texts and horrible jokes. I still expect you to watch car restoration shows and The Brady Bunch with me. Just because I’m taking you out next weekend doesn’t mean our friendship ends. We’re just enhancing it,” I tell her with a smile, to which she comes back with her own.
“Enhancing it. I like that.”
“And I like that you said yes.” Forcing myself to take a step back, I let go of the hold I have on her, breaking the connection. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“‘Kay.”
“‘Night, Abby.”
“‘Night, Levi.”
Smiling, I watch as she steps out of my apartment and crosses the hall to her own. She slides her key into the keyhole and takes a step inside, but doesn’t completely close the door. Instead, she glances back my way, a small smile playing on the corner of her lips.
Fuck, I can’t wait for next Saturday.
The day I finally make my girl mine.