Bex hadn’t heard from Henny since the “Thanks for the Nachos” incident. She was beginning to worry that the flowers had meant goodbye rather than gratitude, when her phone finally buzzed with his text.

Part of her wanted to ignore it, but as usual, one word from her best friend and her anger melted away.

HENNY: You see me out there tonight?

BEX: Out where?

HENNY: Very funny. Hope you made a new sign for me, woman.

BEX: Oh, you had a game tonight? I can’t be expected to keep up with your sporting events. I’m a busy woman, Henderson.

HENNY: Too busy for this face? Doubt it.

He sent her a selfie, all goofy-ass smile and crazy eyes. He was in his hotel room, dressed in a faded black Radiohead shirt—they’d gotten matching ones at a concert in New York City during one of their college Christmas breaks. His hair was sticking up everywhere, rumpled and adorable, and her fingers curled inward against her palm, itching to touch him.

She closed her eyes, remembering the scent of his skin, the warmth of his kiss on her forehead. The press of his face on her chest, his hair tickling her breasts.

Opening her eyes, Bex took a deep breath, fingers hovering over the phone screen. Then, before she could talk herself out of being honest…

BEX: I miss that face, Henny. I miss YOU.

HENNY: Yeah. I’ve been kind of a schmuck. :-(

BEX: Pro tip? Stop ghosting on me, schmuck. One of these days I’m going to kick your ass. Also, I’ve been a schmuck too. :-(

HENNY: Tell you what. I’ll bring you some more flowers, you give me my sign, we’ll call it even.

Bex smiled. The roses from his bouquet were hanging over her dresser, drying. Every time she walked into her bedroom, she caught a whiff of their sweet scent and thought of Henny.

Not that she needed external stimulation to think of Henny. He was pretty much the only thing on her mind lately.

BEX: Next time say it with chocolate. You heading out with the guys tonight?

HENNY: Trying to ditch me already?

BEX: Ha! I’ve been trying to ditch you since the 90s.

HENNY: Guess you need to try harder. I’m not going anywhere. Uh, recent dickishness notwithstanding. Promise.

Bex responded with a smiley emoji. He’d already made that promise in some form or another three times now. She didn’t doubt his intentions, only his follow-through. Or her follow-through. Things were getting ridiculous.

She wasn’t ready for the conversation to end, but she didn’t know what else to say.

A minute passed. Then another. She was about to call it a night when the phone rang with his ringtone.

Bex hit the answer button and smiled. “If you’re calling for bail money, I can’t help you.”

Henny cracked up, the sound going right to her heart. God, she’d missed that laugh.

“No bail money, babe. Not for me, anyway. I’m all alone in my hotel room tonight.”

“Should I even ask what you’re up to?”

“Truth?”

“Always.”

“Trying not to think about you.”

Bex’s stomach did a little flip. Before she could stop herself, the words were out. “Same here.”

“Yeah? How’s that working out?”

“It’s not.” She closed her eyes, listening to the soft sounds of Henny breathing, trying to match the steady rhythm to her own.

“God, I’m glad to hear your voice,” he said.

“Hmm. Rough night on the ice?”

“Something like that.”

“You looked good, though,” she said, glad to be back on familiar ground. Hockey. His moves on the ice. Not their relationship and missing each other and thinking about each other and all the stuff they were so obviously avoiding.

As far as strategies went, avoidance was a good one.

Right?

“Got through all three periods on your feet,” she went on. “No time in the penalty box. Look who’s out there bustin’ a move, not getting suspended!”

“Last time I got suspended, I got nachos.”

“Among other things.” Bex laughed. She had to. Because if they weren’t going to talk about what happened, they had to at least joke about it, or they’d never move past it. “So, how’d everyone feel against the Mavs? Their new center is looking pretty good.”

“Definitely one to watch.” Henny sighed. “Hey, can we talk about something else? I need to get hockey off the brain. Tell me about your day.”

“You wanna hear about my boring-ass fight with the bar plumbing?”

“You know I do.”

“Another pipe burst overnight. Fee and I were greeted by a flooded bathroom this morning.”

“Everything okay? I thought Fee’s uncle fixed all that?”

“Different pipe. He got it patched up right away, but I was on my hands and knees all day cleaning.”

“Wow. Only you could make plumbing sound sexy.”

“Oh, sexy is an understatement when it comes to me. Shall I tell you what I’m wearing?”

“A guy can dream.” Henny laughed, but she sensed there was more to the joke, a flicker of heat sparking up beneath the easy, familiar surface. “Long as it’s not Kooz’s jersey.”

“No.” Bex was pretty sure she’d never wear that jersey again. She couldn’t even remember why she’d ever found the goalie attractive.

“Tell me,” he teased. Or maybe he was begging.

She dropped her voice to a sultry, smoky tone. “I’m wearing my red flannel pajamas—the ones with little Scottie dogs all over them. They have buttons, but I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” In a scandalous whisper, she said, “They’re really just snaps.”

“Mmm, I love snaps. Tell me more.”

“I’m also wearing a pair of dark blue hiking socks with a hole in the heel, and my anti-glare computer glasses, which I somehow managed to get peanut butter on.”

“Peanut butter?” Henny cracked up. “Now you’re really driving me wild, dirty girl.”

Bex returned his easy laughter, but his words left her feeling warm and fizzy, her body buzzing with an unfamiliar current. Her laughter faded, and the silence stretched between them, nothing but breath and heat and anticipation.

“Bex,” he finally said, low and smoky in her ear. “I wish you were here.”

“In Toronto? We went up there in the fall, remember? With Mom and—”

“No.” A beat passed. Another. Then, “In my bed.”

She shivered at his admission, the moment between them delicious and forbidden. They were playing a dangerous game, but here in the dark after all those nights of radio silence, Bex wanted to keep playing. To see how far they could take it before one of them backed off.

“What would you do to me?” she asked. Far from sexy, her voice was shaky now. Trembling.

“Are you…” Henny cleared his throat. “You seriously asking me that?”

Maybe it was the distance. The darkness. The strangeness that had fallen between them since that night, eradicating the boundary between “just friends” and the “something else” they’d become. From the moment she’d woken up next to him in bed, Bex had known there was no going back—not to the easy, comfortable friendship they’d always had. She had no idea what that meant for the future, but for right now? Tonight?

“Yes.” Bex stretched out on her bed and licked her lips. “Tell me.”

She heard rustling on the other end of the line, and she imagined him sliding between the cool, white sheets of his hotel bed, leaning back on the downy pillows. She wondered whether he was in his sweatpants or shorts. She wondered whether his eyes were closed, whether the lights were off, the blinds drawn tight, the television muted, flickering soft blue light over his skin.

But mostly, she wondered whether her best friend was as turned on as she was.

“I would take my time with you,” he said, voice thick with something she didn’t recognize, but liked. A lot. “Slide my hands down the front of those pajamas, popping each snap until I had you unwrapped for me like a present.”

As if under a spell, Bex trailed a hand over her fake buttons, popping them and letting her shirt fall open.

“You’d arch your back and press yourself against my hands,” he said, “begging me to touch you. To take you into my mouth.”

Bex nearly came at the rough sound of his words, low and sexy and dangerous, each one sending a pulse of heat to her core. Unbidden, she cupped her breast, gently tugging her nipple. It stiffened instantly, aching for more. Aching for him.

Henny was right. If he were here right now, she would beg him for it.

“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t stop. Keep talking.”

“Are you touching yourself for me?”

Bex bit her lip, suddenly shy. She’d never been particularly modest in bed, but this was different. This was Henny. Her Henny. Could their friendship survive this? Again, her thoughts started to spin, threatening to pull her out of the fantasy, but she didn’t want out. She didn’t want to overanalyze and worry and fret.

She wanted to keep playing.

She wanted more.

Shoving aside the fears, she trailed her hand down her stomach, then slipped it inside her panties. She was hot and wet. Needy.

In a soft voice, she made her confession. “Yes. Are… are you?”

“Am I what?” he asked. Teasing. Gentle. Inviting her into this game, one sinfully sweet word at a time.

Heat crept across her chest, her neck. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Do you want me to?”

Bex closed her eyes, flashing back to that morning in her bed, the forbidden peek beneath the sheets. She’d tried her best to forget it, but the image of his strong, solid body and massive, hard cock was permanently seared in her memory. She imagined him now, gripping himself tight, hardening just for her.

A whimper of pure pleasure escaped her lips. “Yes.”

“Say it, Rebecca. Tell me exactly what you want. Exactly how you like it.”

The sound of her full name on his lips made her melt, unleashing a flurry of delicious phrases in her mind. I like it when you stroke yourself. I like your big hands in my hair, rough and messy. I like your mouth between my thighs…

But as much as she wanted to, Bex couldn’t make herself say the words out loud. She’d never been into dirty talk before—it always left her feeling awkward, anything but sexy.

But Henny? God, she was red hot and throbbing for him, his every word turning her into butter. She couldn’t imagine what he’d feel like right here, in her bed, stone cold sober, saying these things to her. Waiting for her to tell him how she liked it.

“Tell me,” he whispered.

“Hen, I don’t… I’ve never done anything like this before,” she confessed. “On the phone, I mean.” Her cheeks heated. Not with embarrassment or awkwardness, but excitement. She wanted this. Wanted him to take her somewhere new and uncharted.

He didn’t speak right away, but she heard him shifting around, the sheets rustling. When he finally spoke, his voice was tender. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Bex giggled softly. “I mean… maybe just… Can you take the lead?”

“Close your eyes,” he said, still gentle. Easing her back in. Protecting her, just like always. “Picture me there with you, helping you the rest of the way out of those pajamas. Watching you.”

“Touching me,” she finally said. “I want you touching me.”

His breath quickened in her ear, the sound sending shivers down her spine. In a low growl that made her shudder, he said, “Where?”

She slid her fingers deeper inside her panties and spread her legs. “Between my thighs. Inside my panties.”

“What do you feel like?” he asked.

“Slippery. I’m so wet, Henny.” She dipped a finger inside, then pulled out, coating her clit in her juices, massaging herself with gentle circles. She’d never gotten so close to the edge on her own before—not without a lot more effort. “You’re driving me wild.”

“Jesus,” Henny whispered. Bex wondered if he could truly hear her—the soft, barely audible moans, the thud of her heartbeat, the desperate sucking sounds her body was making. All of it conspired to reveal her secrets.

“Henny!” She gasped, shocked at how quickly it was happening. “I’m right there. I’m going to—”

“Shh,” he murmured. “Not yet, beautiful. I want you to stop.”

God, she didn’t want to. But she wasn’t ready for this night to end, either. She wanted to see what else he could do to her.

Obeying, Bex slid her hand out of her panties. Between her thighs, she throbbed with unrequited desire.

“I’m taking my time with you tonight,” Henny said.

“Henny,” she whispered again, her hand twitching, desperate to return to her soft, wet heat. Here in the dark, Henny’s deep voice in her ear, it almost felt real. Henny, touching her. Kissing her. Caressing her into a state of pure bliss. “Touch me. Please don’t stop.”

“No. No more touching. For the rest of the night, I’m only using my mouth.”

Oh, fuck.

“I’m starting with a kiss. Sucking your bottom lip, grazing it with my teeth. Kissing my way down your neck, down to that little scar on your collar bone.”

She ran her fingers over the small white ridge just inside her left shoulder, courtesy of an exposed screw on an abandoned set of monkey bars she and Henny had discovered in fifth grade behind the old Shop-N-Save. She was surprised Henny had remembered, that he’d even noticed the mark. Mostly, her clothes covered it up.

Except for that night…

“I’m not done yet,” he continued. “I’m kissing your soft skin, your shoulders, my tongue tracing the curve of your breast. Buzzing your hard little nipples with my lips.”

She ran her fingers over her nipples again, imagining his mouth on her flesh, the hum of his deep voice, the scratch of stubble and teeth. She wondered what he was like in bed—the real deal. Would he play rough, or take it slow? Would he talk to her like this, or just take charge?

Bex decided she didn’t care. She wanted him. However, whenever. Her entire body was aching for him.

“Are you still wearing those pants?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Lose them. I want you naked now. Nothing but that soft, beautiful skin for me to taste.”

She set the phone down, tearing her clothes off in record time.

“Okay,” she breathed, settling back onto the bed, pressing the phone to her ear.

“Are you naked for me, beautiful?”

“Yes.”

“You taste so fucking good,” he said. “Your soft belly. Your hip bone. Open your legs, baby. Let me see that gorgeous pussy.”

Again she obeyed, spreading her thighs, imagining Henny guiding her every move.

“You’re so beautiful, Bex,” he purred. “Let me taste you.”

“Yes,” she panted.

“My cock is so fucking hard right now, but I can’t stop kissing you. Licking you. Making sure you’re hot and wet and ready for me.”

“I’m ready,” she whispered. “I’m so close. I want you inside me.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s all I can think about since that night. I want… I want you to fuck me, Henny. Hard. Fast. Deep.”

Bex’s cheeks flamed. It was possible she’d revealed too much, but she was too close to the edge to care. Right now, all that mattered was Henny. His voice. His hands. His mouth.

“Jesus, Bex,” he said, his voice suddenly strained. He was losing control, too.

The realization filled her with a sense of power. Heat. Hope.

Despite his orders, she couldn’t hold back. She needed the friction of her touch. She needed to come.

Sliding her fingers between her thighs, Bex arched her back, stroking herself again, frantic and hot.

“You feel amazing,” she said. The boundary between real and imaginary—just like the one between friendship and something else—was obliterated. She was in too deep to stop now. “I love the way you touch me. The way you kiss me. The way you make me come.”

Henny groaned, the sound as wild and desperate as she felt. “If I was there right now, you’d be in so much fucking trouble. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.”

“I can’t hold back. I’m right… I’m right there.”

“Don’t hold back,” he said. “My tongue is deep inside that gorgeous pussy, and I want to know exactly what you taste like when you come.”

Bex gasped as the orgasm crashed through her body, her thighs trembling, stars dancing behind her eyelids as Henny whispered dirty, delicious promises in her ear.

Seconds later, breathing hard and fast, Henny growled like an animal, deep and powerful, his raw, unguarded passion making her tremble all over again.

He’d made that sound for her. Because of her.

Bex had never felt so alive.

Seconds passed between them in silence, their breathing finally returning to normal.

“You okay?” Henny finally asked.

“Better than okay,” she said. Her own voice was thick and syrupy. She was still in a trance. A happy, golden trance from which she never wanted to wake. “That was… wow.”

“Mmm.” Henny hummed into the phone, and she pictured him running his thumb back and forth over his lips. Then, after a beat, “Will you do something for me?”

She laughed. She was still naked, spread out on her bed, unable to move. “Something else? You’re insatiable.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“I’m starting to get the picture.” Bex laughed. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, two favors, actually. First, burn Kooz’s jersey. I’ll get you one of mine.”

“Deal. What’s the second?”

“Stay with me? Just until I pass out?” Henny’s voice was softer now, sleepy. “I want you to be the last thing I hear before I fall asleep.”