“You can’t avoid me forever, Sena. Talk to me.”

His gravel-like voice on my voicemail whipped through me, just as his last ten messages had. I analyzed his voice for longer than I should have. Did he sound mad? No. He was his usual Noah self. Calm, patient as ever, well, at least he was always patient with me. He didn’t sound at all like he was having a freak out about unloading his pleasure into my mouth or digging for gold in my lady bits. There was no panic in his timber and that freaked me out even more because ugh.

Men.

Queer men at that.

Deep breath. Yeah, not happening right now. There was no room in my head to deal with my fuck up.

Was it a fuck up?

I dropped my phone into my bag amid the copious amounts of half opened gum packets and lip glosses I bought and forgot about and pushed gorgeous Noah Fierro and the sounds he made when he climaxed out of my mind.

I’d considered taking a trip home for a few days, but I was no coward.

I was so a coward, but remembered my parents were away in Michigan visiting their old college friends.

Besides which, I had commitments in the city and who could run away really at twenty-five unless you were a Kardashian with endless cash in the bank.

Sadly, with only several thousand worth of savings, not enough to afford me a hermit lifestyle I put on my big girl panties that morning and strategically worked my way out of my apartment like I thought Noah would be hidden around every corner.

Thankfully if he’d tried letting himself in with a key, I was never home. I was grateful he worked as much as he did, he probably didn’t want the drama of our talk. What do you say to your best friend about things getting so out of hand you sucked his dick after he got you off so hard your bones were still feeling it days later? I couldn’t think of one word to say to Noah and that was the sole reason I was avoiding him like he had the clap.

I was mortified.

And yet still, I wanted to be around him.

I’d sucked his dick! There was no coming back from this.

I’d participated in hours’ worth of sex in the past that hadn’t felt as good as a quick half hour in Noah’s big bed. Now I felt ruined for anyone else, like if it wasn’t Noah’s hand getting me off I didn’t want it.

And that fricking sucked.

I’d doomed myself to a climax-less life.

Was our friendship ruined? Was I being too female and overthinking it? Probably to both. Anyone will tell you, if you mix sex into a friendship that friendship is never the same, how can it be now we’ve each seen the other’s orgasm face.

His face was beautiful, by the way and the noises he made… Jesus H Christ…

I was embarrassed to admit I’d slid my hands down into the bath water last night and replayed the grunt noises Noah made over and over.

God. I missed my friend. How fricking ironic he would be the one I’d talk to about this new life drama if it’d happened with anyone else.

There’s no handbook instructions telling you what to do when the problem involved the best friend.

Shit. I hadn’t thought this badly of myself since I was fifteen and dinged up dad’s car. The car I borrowed to go to a party out of town. Only I never made it since I couldn’t drive yet, and a damn mailbox came out of nowhere.  

I don’t like ignoring Noah. It was screwing with my digestion, everything tasted like sawdust and I’d had heartburn/acid reflux/possible heart attack for four days now. Coincidence it was the same amount of time that we’d been handsy/mouthy on each other. It didn’t take a genius to join the dots.

My body was going through some emotional upheaval and withdrawal and I couldn’t take it much longer.

I was popping tums at an incredible rate.

Being in the unfamiliar region of self-doubt and insecurity. For other, braver people hooking up with their friends would be no big deal, no one got hurt, there was no awkward conversations afterward, if they had an itch they scratched it and that was that. I didn’t work that way, my lousy dating life case in point.

If I’d wanted a meaningless hook up I took a stab in the dark that even idiot Mario the Adonis bartender would have happily supplied me with a dick to use.

This was different because it was fucking different.

Popping another tums, I spent the day in Brooklyn fixing an office of computers, my estimation that I’d be there for two days tripled once I saw the problems. The system was fried and needed new everything. Cheapskate client didn’t want to pay for new. I told him I’d do what I could to get his business back up and running but I couldn’t make promises.

I was good, not a wizard, Harry.

That night I ate cold three-day old Chinese food from the fridge and ignored another of Noah’s messages.

I went to sleep with the sound of his grunts in my head.

Frick. Fuck. I missed my lion.