~ Be My Valentines ~
10 years before Valentine’s Day
There’s a group of young men smoking at the corner of the building. You sense their presence as much as you see them. You keep walking, not even offering so much as a glance in their direction. No matter. One of them calls out, “Nice to see a new pretty face around here.”
You pull your backpack straps tighter and quicken your pace, not even acknowledging him. The parking lot is just ahead.
“Hey! New girl! I’m talking to you.”
You continue to ignore him, but you recognize that voice. Somehow even more obnoxious than it was in your first class this morning.
“What, you think you’re too good to talk to the upperclassmen now? I thought you wanted to show us how mature you are.”
His voice is getting closer now, and you hear his footsteps leave the grass and start to clip on the sidewalk. You resist the urge to run. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself on your first day. Your car is only in the second row. Not far now.
He keeps talking, but you don’t hear what he’s saying anymore. Just a few more steps, and he hasn’t reached you yet.
You see another shape emerge out of the corner of your eye, moving quickly, but… not toward you. You’re grateful that you have your keys in your hand already. You press a button and watch the lights flash just ahead. You’re almost there.
You hear two loud thumps, and your harasser’s persistent squawking abruptly stops.
You open your door, toss your backpack into the passenger seat, and lock the door as soon as it shuts behind you. Not until then do you look up… just in time to see your harasser scrambling to his feet and stumbling back to the safety of his circle of friends.
You start your car, put it in drive, and only as you’re pulling away do your eyes finally travel to the newcomer. You notice his broad shoulders and the curve of his arm beneath his short sleeves. He looks like he could throw quite the punch.
He glances your way, and for a split second, you meet his dark brown eyes. His gaze is surprisingly soft considering the circumstances, but his jaw is set confidently as he watches you drive safely away.
It takes a few minutes for your heart to calm and your mind to clear, but as your anxious thoughts dissipate, a single image replaces them.
His face, deep brown, framed by strong eyebrows and a short, crisp haircut. His lips gently parted in an expression of concern and an apology worn in his eyes.
What a beautiful face.
<3<3
It doesn’t take long to see him again.
Your class the next day is mostly full by the time he walks in, but you watch out of the corner of your eye as he settles into a seat on the other side of the room. The two women sitting in front of him are clearly friends, and they turn to chat with him as he unpacks his books. He has a bright smile, but theirs are bigger.
You don’t realize that you’re staring until he glances your way, and though you snap your eyes down to the desk, you catch a glimpse of his smile quickly changing… no longer wide and mirthful, but warm and cautiously welcoming, as if to say I hope you’re doing okay.
Mercifully, the professor calls the class to attention and you keep your eyes locked on her. Your diligent note-taking helps to suppress your imagination, but the memory of his face never fully leaves, settling instead deep into your bones and warming you from the inside out.
That warmth starts to show on your cheeks when you realize he’s waiting for you outside the classroom. He leans casually in the open door frame of the empty classroom directly across the hall, his backpack tossed over his outside shoulder. There’s a wide path in either direction should you wish to walk away, but he reaches out a hand in a gesture that’s half hello and half come here.
He stays in the doorway when you approach, but straightens and shifts the backpack further onto his shoulder, rising even taller above you. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for this morning. I don’t care for violence, but I saw him following you and just…” He shakes his head. “You just shouldn’t have had to experience any of that.”
“No, it’s—it’s not your fault.” Your voice comes out quieter than you meant it to. “Truthfully, I… didn’t totally mind.” You offer a slight smile to go with your teasing tone and watch his shoulders relax. It’s like a fog has lifted over your hesitant conversation.
“He definitely had it coming. And I, uh, made sure that he won’t mess with you again. But just in case you ever need me to remind him…” He holds out a hand. “My name is James.”
“I’m Emily.” His hand is soft and his handshake somehow… confident, but gentle. Your fingertips graze as you slip your hand away, and you use it to tuck your hair behind your ear. You wish you could think of more to say.
“How are you in Biology 102, anyway? I thought you were a freshman.”
“Oh, um, I’ve been taking online classes for a while now, just my mom wouldn’t let me leave for college until I was 18.”
“Ah, so you’re a genius.” He’s teasing, but offers the compliment genuinely.
“I like science,” you reply, your voice still thin.
“Damn.” He nods approvingly. “Good for you. Everybody is going to be trying to hire you while my Creative Writing degree sits on the shelf. I just need the class to graduate.”
“No, you’re going to be great,” you stammer, blushing even harder.
“Thanks! I appreciate your confidence.” He flashes a big smile and turns toward the hall. “I gotta get to my next class, but it’s nice to meet you.”
You start to reach your hand out again and then quickly drop it as he leaves the doorway. “You too!”
He turns over his shoulder as he walks away. “I’ll see you Thursday, Emily!”
<3<3
He doesn’t, though, much to your dismay. You don’t see him in class again for two weeks. Fortunately, the man who bothered you doesn’t so much as look your way in your early morning class, so your concern shifts to James. You hope everything is alright. It doesn’t really make sense for you to worry so much about someone you’ve barely even met.
He seemed so sweet though. Genuine, and kind. You just hope everything is okay. That’s all. It’s just a little strange that he seems to have disappeared.
Finally, two weeks after the incident, you get your explanation. It’s so obvious you feel silly for not connecting the dots.
“I got suspended,” he admits with a wry smile.
This time, you were the one who waited for him in the hallway, your confidence bolstered by two weeks of thinking about this moment and his own embarrassment about the punishment. “James. I’m so sorry.”
“No, it’s not your fault. It was my decision, and I take full responsibility. I got the syllabi for my writing classes anyway, so I’ve been able to keep up with homework. I’ll be okay.”
“I can share my notes from biology if that would help.”
“That would be amazing, Emily.” He glances down the hallway like he’s considering something. “Actually… it’s okay if you don’t have time, but I could really use a tutor. At least until I get caught up. I can pay you, of course.”
“You beat someone up for me, I tutor you in biology.” You shrug. “Seems like a fair trade.”
James laughs.
“You don’t need to pay me, though. Just, I’ll give you my number, and you can text me when you’ll be able to meet.”
<3<3
9 years before Valentine’s Day
You watch James over the rim of your plastic cup, then toss it into the garbage, the last sips finally giving you the courage you need. You cling tightly to the large box in your hands as you approach, and he cuts his conversation with the other partygoer short when he sees you coming.
“Hey, bestie!” he says, draping an arm over your shoulder and taking a swig from his own cup before looking down at you. His voice is hard to make out over the booming music and myriad other voices.
“Can we go somewhere quieter?” you practically yell, leaning up toward his ear.
He grins. “Sure, follow me.”
The upstairs hallway is narrow, but no one is going in or out of the bedrooms at the moment. James leans against the wall, still casually sipping from his drink, and you stand directly in front of him. You hold your perfectly wrapped gift in both hands and look down at it, feeling his eyes linger on your face. He’s giving you the opportunity to say your piece.
“I got you this.” You finally meet his eyes, brushing your curls out of your face. “Congrats on your graduation.” You give a tight-lipped smile, suddenly questioning all of your decisions.
He sets his drink down on a nearby table and takes the box from your nervous hands. He handles it with such a deep sense of appreciation that you feel ridiculous for what’s inside. He pauses. “You really didn’t have to. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for your help last semester. And… I’m really glad we kept hanging out. I think you’re the coolest person at this college. I’m leaving it in good hands.”
Your cheeks are screaming. “I mean it’s not like a crazy gift… like, I don’t want to get you all excited or like… just open it. You’ll see.”
James doesn’t immediately obey, instead reaching across the hall to squeeze your upper arm. “Just… even thinking of me at all. I really appreciate it.”
You don’t release your breath until he’s ripped open the paper and lifted the lid to reveal a pair of deep blue boxing gloves. His chuckle turns into a full laugh and he wraps you in a grateful one-armed hug. “You got me there,” he says, his voice muffled by your hair. “Thanks, Em. For everything.”
You keep your arms loosely hooked around his waist, and he rests his free hand between your shoulder blades as you lean back to look up at him. You don’t remember what else you had planned to say, but now is the time to be brave. You plant your hands on his hips and stand up on your toes, reaching your face toward his.
He lets the box fall to the ground and takes your cheek in his hand. You are drowning in desire. You wait for his firm touch to guide you the rest of the way, but… he just holds you there. The dream that awaits you every night is only a few inches away, but when he doesn’t meet your kiss, you feel like he’s standing on the cliff’s edge and you’re falling… falling… impossibly far away.
He has always carried such profound emotion in his face, and the sorrow in his eyes is no exception. You let your heels drop back to the floor and you release each other.
He chews on the corner of his lip and stares for a moment at the wall above your head. “I’m sorry, Emily,” he says when his eyes return to yours.
You want to run away, and he doesn’t physically stop you, but his energy demands you stay and hear him out.
“I know you’ll probably hate me for telling you what to do,” he continues. “And I know you might not want to hear this, but… you mean so much to me. You really are my best friend.” His voice breaks a little bit, and for the first time you realize that he’s just as nervous turning you away as you were approaching him.
“But you’re still eighteen. And you just got here. I think you should have the chance to explore and… I wouldn’t ever want to let you go.”
You fight to hold back your tears.
“I don’t want to lose you. And now I’m worried I’m still going to lose you, but I still want to be your friend. I care about you so, so much…”
You swallow hard, forcing yourself to quickly alleviate his worry despite how difficult it is to get out the words. “No, James, I wouldn’t…” You grab his wrists, and a slight tremor in his hands disappears in the warmth of your touch. You turn his hand palm up. You hold out your little finger, and with a smile he meets it, his own hooking around yours. You cling to each other by this fragile, unbreakable tether. “Besties,” you whisper.
“Forever.”
<3<3
9 months before Valentine’s Day
James places a cocktail napkin on the bar in front of you. He hasn’t been at this spot for long, but you like the dark, moody vibes. They pair well with the vintage black dress that clings to your thick curves.
Your best friend isn’t as big as he was in those college days, but his arms still fill out the shiny black shirt he has rolled up to his elbows. He’s grown a beard since then too, but the smile that it frames is just as warm and bright as you’ve always known. He reaches across the bar with your martini, holding his vibrant blue tie in place with one hand.
You toy with the skewer of olives before taking a sip. You keep your eyes trained on your best friend. “So now are you going to tell me why it was so urgent I visit tonight?”
You know his smile so well, and tonight it’s overflowing with joy. “I had a meeting right before my shift today,” he says. “I have a publishing deal. For a book of poetry.”
“James! Uhh, holy fucking shit, that’s incredible! I’m so happy for you.” You spin your barstool a quarter turn and stand up. “Come here, you have to give me a hug.”
The bar is quiet on a Wednesday night, so he nods to his coworker to let them know he’s stepping out and meets you on the other side of the bar. You greet him with an excited bounce, standing up on your toes and throwing your arms around his shoulders. His hands brush your waist on the way to circling your lower back, and his cheek is warm against yours.
“Is it the one I read?” you ask, still wrapped up in his arms.
Your face moves with his when he gently shakes his head. “No, this is new stuff. Well, I included a few of the pieces from that collection. But mostly new.” He releases you from the hug, but keeps a hand on your lower back to lead you to your barstool. He leans against the seat next to you, keeping his body pointed your way.
Finally, you take a sip of your martini. “Okay, tell me more.”
“Well… the theme is romance. And love. And it gets a little bit spicy, too…”
You smirk and raise an eyebrow. “So who’s the girl?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not like that. You know I’m just a romantic.”
“That’s good, because if you had been hiding that from me, I would have to fight you myself.” You pause a moment, your tone a bit more serious when you continue. “Do you feel like you’re ready to get out there again?”
“Yeah, it’s not about Annie anymore. I’m just waiting until I can get out of that apartment. No more roommates. Finally feeling like I can offer someone real stability. I’m close now. This is the final piece of the puzzle.”
“So when do I get to read it?”
He shifts nervously. He knows how much you like to get what you want, and he’s never been good at telling you no. “It’ll be a little while. There’s a whole process. But… as soon as I get my first advance copy, it’s yours. I promise.”
He was right that it wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but you take a deep breath and a sip of your drink, swallowing your stubborn insistence along with the salty cocktail. “Fiiine…” you sigh. “I accept. Only because I’m so damn happy for you.”
He looks you over fondly. “Here, I’ll give you something.” He steals your napkin and pulls a heavy steel pen from his pocket.
You take a long drink, then slip an olive into your mouth while you wait.
After a few minutes, he slides the napkin back across the bar.
And though our lips finally parted
We couldn’t help but stay close
So close
I saw each of her irises’ hues
And my reflection in her pupils
The reflection of every hope
Every wish
Every dream I’ve ever dared to dream
Waiting there in her eyes
He holds his breath while you read, keeping a tight grip on his body so he doesn’t reveal the anxious energy that churns beneath the surface.
“It’s beautiful, James.” Your voice is soft and earnest. You rest your hand just above his knee and brush your thumb back and forth. “I love it. That’s in the book?”
“Oh, no, I just wrote that now. Just… to give you an idea.”
“Well, I can’t wait…” You narrow your eyes and purse your lips before giving a mischievous grin. “But I think there’s a girl. You’re good, but I don’t think you could write that if there wasn’t a girl.”
He tries to shrug nonchalantly, but the corners of his lips tease upward. “I guess I’m better than you think.”
“C’mon, James, you can’t hide anything from me!” You reach out to try to tickle his waist, and your barstool tips forward, dumping you out of your seat.
James is there in an instant, catching you first in one arm then snatching up and straightening out your barstool before it can topple to the ground. Your drink bumps his chest and splashes onto his neck and shoulder.
“Fuck, I’m sorry!”
“It’s all good. Here, I’ll make you another drink.”
You glance at the alcohol glistening on his neck. “I’d help you get cleaned up, but…” your tone starts to tease and you shrug innocently, “…I don’t have a napkin anymore.”
James touches your upper arm with a wink. “Don’t you worry, I’ll get you another one of those, too.”
As he prepares your fresh cocktail, James turns the question back around. “What about you, any new guys to tell me about?”
“Actually… I literally just got assigned to spend an afternoon each week cleaning up the parks with this really hot new British guy at work. Like, I’ve honestly been trying to keep my distance because you know I don’t think it’s a good idea to mix business and pleasure, but… fuck. You don’t understand.” You grip the edge of the bar with both hands and growl under your breath. “He’s so. Fucking. Hot.”
<3<3
“Emily!”
You look up from your computer. Somehow, he’s even hotter today than he was in your memory. His lightly tanned cheeks are tinged with a soft flush, like he’s already been working out in the sun. His short brown waves of hair, on the other hand, are as immaculately styled as if he had just returned from a photoshoot. For some reason this outfit makes sense for him, no longer business casual but dressed for manual labor in a sturdy tan button-down tucked into light wash jeans. His boots add another couple inches to his height, and he walks with quiet confidence.
“Daniel,” he continues, holding a hand to his chest. You could melt at the melody of his accent. “I know we’ve only met a couple times, it’s okay if you don’t remember.”
You’re not an easy man to forget, you think.
“No, of course I remember,” you say. You stand and extend your right hand, glancing at the clock over his shoulder. “Is it that time already?”
He accepts your greeting, and you can’t help but notice the way his rough hand feels in yours. It makes you want more.
“We still have a few minutes. I volunteered my truck to haul the debris we clear out today, so I wanted to offer you a ride. If you’d like.”
Daniel has a soft smile and attentive brown eyes. His gaze washes over you, and you desperately wish you could know what he’s thinking. “Sure, that sounds great.”
He glances at his watch. “Perfect. I’ll come find you in half an hour.”
“I’ll be here.”
Your eyes linger as he walks away. For too long, you realize with a start. You glance around the room to make sure no one noticed, then settle back into your chair. It’s hard to focus on your screen. Your legs press together and you swallow hard. When he arrives again thirty minutes later, you can’t really remember what work you got done during that time.
<3<3
You were surprised to hear that Daniel drives a truck, and you’re even more surprised when you see it. He drives an old Ford, clearly both well used and well maintained. “I’ve had this beauty forever,” he says, rapping his knuckles on the side of the truck. He opens the passenger door for you. “Believe it or not, I used to be a ranch hand.”
That does surprise you. Daniel, with the tailored clothes and posh accent who always smells warm and fresh… You’re excited to see this side of him, too.
He has a talent for conversation, engaging wholeheartedly with your interests. You talk for a long while about your houseplants, and by the time you arrive at the park, he’s already promised to bring you a propagation of his favorite plant—a fiddle leaf fig named Benji—next week. The enthusiastic conversation continues while you work, trimming dead and low hanging branches and hauling them to the truck.
You barely notice the surprising heat for a late spring afternoon thanks to the ease with which he makes you laugh. You do notice how good he looks with a bundle of wood resting on his shoulder. And the way a thin layer of sweat makes his skin seem to glow. The occasional gust of wind loosens up his swooping hair, sending a few messy waves down across his forehead.
His natural charisma extends not just to you, but everyone you interact with, and for as hard as he works with tools in his hand, Daniel is quick to stop and chat whenever he has the chance to brighten someone’s day. He helps a family bring birthday party supplies to the pavilion, snaps a photo for a couple on a date, and jumps to snag someone’s basketball before it flies toward the street. He tosses it back to the hoop, casually sinking a shot from the edge of the court.
You notice the attention he gets, too, from the hushed chatting and giggling of a group of women taking college graduation photos to the elderly woman perched on a bench with a bag of birdseed.
Daniel flocks to her like the sparrows. “Is this seat taken?”
“Honey, if it was taken, I would kick him out so you could sit there instead.”
He grins and takes a seat to her right, accepting her offering of a pinch of birdseed and waving you over. “My name is Daniel, this is Emily. We work for the Parks department. I just wanted to see if there’s anything we could do to improve your park experience?”
“It’s lovely to meet you, my name is Helen.” She takes a moment to think, and you watch in amazement as she holds a hand low to the ground and the sparrows hop right over and eat from her palm. “You know there’s a pothole right where the sidewalk starts over there at the corner by the stoplight. My cane got caught on the edge and I almost fell on my way in.”
Daniel looks at her with compassion. “The streets aren’t something we can fix directly, but I promise you I will talk to someone who can as soon as we’re back at the office.” He takes her free hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry that happened.”
She slips her hand from his and pats him on the knee. “That’s alright, sweetie, I’m fine. I’ve still got a little flexibility in these hips, you know.” She raises an eyebrow and they laugh together. Helen turns to you, holding out the bag of birdseed. “Don’t be shy, darling, I’m only teasing. I promise not to steal him.”
“Oh… no, we aren’t—” Your stomach tightens up nervously. “We just work together!”
“Well in that case…” she jokes, turning her body toward Daniel, “you are a very handsome young man.”
“Aww, I would be so lucky,” Daniel replies graciously, allowing her to take his hand to pour a little more birdseed in his palm.
“You too!” she says, waving you over more fervently and giving you some as well. “Sit down there next to Daniel. There’s room. Just scooch in close.” She grabs you and Daniel each by the wrist and pulls your hands down near the ground. She places your hand against his, your right and his left, the edges of your palms squishing together.
More than just his hand, you feel the warmth of Daniel’s whole body on the now-crowded bench. His shoulder, his arm, his thigh, all an inch away. You wish the bench were an inch narrower.
You hold very still, hardly daring to breathe. You shouldn’t move… you might scare the birds, or worse, push Daniel away. His fingers are calloused but his palm is soft against your skin.
Helen puts only a few seeds in her hand and holds it on the other side of his. “They know me. Give them a minute.”
It doesn’t take long for the little birds to bravely approach. They eat from Helen’s hand first, but her palm is soon empty. You forget the butterflies in your stomach when they start to eat from your hand. You have no room for anything but pure joy.
The sparrows are tiny, but one particularly small one struggles to reach the dwindling pile of seeds. Your lip quivers, wishing there was something you could do but fully aware that you’ll scare it off if you try to shift the food further toward the edge. The adorable brown ball of feathers isn’t afraid, though, and hops right up on your thumb.
You scream silently, completely absorbed in the moment. Daniel nudges your shoulder with the gentlest touch, sharing his excitement for your magical experience. He doesn’t move away, his arm now pressed to yours as well as his hand. Your butterflies return, and you savor every moment of his touch.
<3<3
With every week that goes by, you get a bit more excited at the prospect of Thursday afternoons. It feels more like an adventure than work, every minute spent with Daniel both exhilarating and familiar.
He’s so consistently kind and optimistic. “This is what it’s all about,” he said once. “Being out in nature, working with our hands, and best of all having the opportunity to benefit our community while we do.” He looked at you then. “Well, second best. The best part is having such a wonderful friend to share the work with.”
The words run through your mind every day, but you’ve gotten used to internalizing your crush by now. He’s still a coworker, and you’re still insistent that he’s off limits.
You’ve set no such limits on the way you look at him. It’s not even intentional, most of the time. You’ve just found that when your eyes land on him they forget what they’re doing and stay for a while.
Even when your secret hopes are shattered, you can’t help but watch…
“Hey there, handsome.”
You glance over to see a short man with a sharp jaw and curly black hair. He’s wearing what looks to be a very nice business suit and… standing very close to Daniel.
Your heart pounds and your cheeks burn. All this time you thought you had a chance… how could you not have known? You stay on your knees, continuing to pull weeds but watching the two of them out of the corner of your eye.
They aren’t as quiet as they think they are. “You shouldn’t come here like this,” Daniel says in a raspy tone you’ve never heard before. “How am I supposed to keep my dirty hands off your pretty little suit?”
“Be patient, Daddy,” the newcomer teases, “and I’ll let you put your dirty hands anywhere you want.”
“You…” Daniel steps forward, practically engulfing the shorter man, “…are…” he lifts a hand like he’s going to touch his face, “…such…” he clenches a fist in frustration next to his cheek, “…a tease.” His face darts down, sending his partner stumbling back a half step as he swallows him in a kiss.
Your hand wraps tighter around the base of the weed, but you forget to pull it. Your face drifts unconsciously toward them, no longer relying on your peripheral vision.
His partner grabs the front of Daniel’s shirt for stability, and Daniel keeps both fists clenched to avoid touching his suit. Their bodies sway briefly in a push-and-pull led by Daniel’s commanding intensity, then Daniel holds his ground and bites down on his partner’s lower lip.
After a moment, the shorter man pulls away and smacks Daniel’s chest playfully. His whisper is sensuous. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
“Oh, before you go…” Daniel glances over at you, suddenly remembering your presence. Your eyes flick back to the ground, and you finally pluck that weed. “This is my coworker, Emily. Emily, this is my boyfriend, Ian.”
“Nice to meet you!” He gives you a wave, then rests his hand on Daniel’s bicep. “Make sure he makes it back in one piece.” He touches his fingertips to a slightly swollen lip and stares into his partner’s eyes. “He owes me for that.”
<3<3
You toss and turn long after lying down for bed. You’re frustrated with yourself for letting a crush go so far when you knew you wouldn’t act on it. What does it matter? It was silly to think he might share your feelings. You feel lonely in a bed too big for one while they are together, doing…
You exhale softly as you slip a hand between your legs.
You shouldn’t.
Your fingers curl.
You shouldn’t.
You start to move them.
You shouldn’t…
Your memories compete with your imagination. You see, Daniel, then Daniel and Ian, then Daniel and yourself. You want to be the one kissing him, being bitten by him, touching his body, letting him put his dirty hands all over you…
You want to be the one sprawling on the bed while he goes down on you, edging you with his lips and his tongue until you’re ready to explode. You want to be the one getting picked up in his strong arms and flipped onto your stomach. You want to get up on your hands and knees for him. Offer your body, open yourself up. You want him to wrap his arm around your stomach and curl his fingers into you while he takes you from behind. You want to be the one screaming “Yes, Daddy!” while he brings you closer, closer, so fucking close…
You want be the one who says, “Fuck, yes, make me cum. Make me fucking cum. Yes! Fuck!”
You gasp as your body is overwhelmed by its orgasm…
But when you open your eyes, you’re alone again in your own bed.
<3<3
You sit down at the bar. James is already preparing a drink for you. “I have good news and bad news,” you tell him. “Which do you want first?”
“Tell me the good news.”
“Daniel asked to hang out this weekend. I’m having him over tomorrow.”
James raises an eyebrow. “Have you changed your stance on dating coworkers?”
“Ask me the bad news.”
He flicks his lighter and runs the flame along your orange peel. “Okay. What’s the bad news?”
“He isn’t single… and it’s a boyfriend.” You scrunch your nose in disappointment.
“Aww, I’m sorry, Em. Can I do anything to make you feel better?”
You perk up immediately. “Will you do a shot with me?”
His smile is warm. “Of course.”
He prepares a light blue concoction you call the bestie shot. He walks around the bar with two glasses in hand, gives one to you, and sits on the edge of a barstool to bring himself closer to your height. You stand on your toes to make up the rest of the difference.
You wrap your arms, locking elbows and bringing the glasses to your lips.
“To Bobby!” you toast.
James completes the refrain. “May his ink never fade!”
<3<3
2 months before Valentine’s Day
You pull your coat tightly around you as you walk to Daniel’s truck. Winter is settling in.
“I can’t believe this is it,” Daniel sighs wistfully. “Are you gonna miss me?” He playfully nudges your shoulder with his, a gesture you’ve grown particularly fond of. Despite your better judgement, you haven’t managed to let that little crush go, no matter how impossible it is.
You scrunch your nose and nudge him back. “Maybe just a little.”
Your tiny task force was approved to run through the end of the year, but since Christmas comes on a Thursday, today will be the last.
“I’ll miss you.” He says it so simply, you think. So matter-of-fact.
Of course you’ll miss him. You already miss him. All week, except for four beautiful hours, you miss him. But how the fuck are you supposed to tell him that? Not without…
Daniel interrupts your thoughts, “Promise we’ll get together to catch up after I get back.”
“January…?”
“Twenty-seventh.”
You nod. “I’ll keep my calendar open. Do you want to go clean up a park for old times’ sake?”
He chuckles. “Maybe it’s time we got the chance to just enjoy the parks for once.”
“I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I’ll want to be outside in late January.”
“Coffee then. Or dinner. Whatever you want.”
“Okay,” you giggle. “I’ll let you know.”
Daniel reaches to open the passenger door for you as he always does. “Oh, fuck me,” he groans. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot.”
Your confusion clears up when you see the luggage occupying the passenger seat. There’s a light layer of snow in the bed of the truck.
“I’m leaving for the airport right after work,” he explains. “I didn’t even think about it. Do you mind driving yourself?”
“It’s a bench, isn’t it? I can sit in the middle.”
“Are you sure?” he queries with a slight frown. “It’s pretty cramped.”
“It’s not that long of a ride,” you insist, already walking around the bed of the truck.
“Okay. I just want you to be comfortable.” He takes a path around the front instead, ensuring that he’s there to open the door for you.
“I’ll be fine. Besides, you always drive. We can’t break tradition on the last day!”
“That’s true.” He gives you a glance that you can’t quite interpret as you climb in.
It’s not until you’re inside that you realize the shifter is located directly between your legs. Daniel slides into the seat next to you, and your bodies practically touch all the way from foot to shoulder.
The truck starts with a roar. You feel the vibrations of the engine and the warmth of Daniel’s body.
“Are you sure there’s enough room?” he asks, pausing halfway to the shifter to indicate his concern.
You take his hand and guide it the rest of the way. His forearm rests just above your knee. You keep both hands on his arm, holding it against your leg. “It’s fine,” you insist.
“Okay.” He puts the truck in gear, and his arm moves an inch up your thigh. “I guess… we’re friends, right? Not just coworkers…”
You scoff. “Yeah, of course we’re friends. Do you think I would’ve put up with you for so long if we weren’t friends?”
His laughter reverberates through your upper arm. “No, you would’ve gotten my ass a long time ago.”
“Damn right.”
“Well, I just wanted to be sure, anyway. Before I leave. I… appreciate your friendship. I’m glad this all worked out so well.”
You lean your head against his shoulder. “Me too.”
You try to remember this moment. Just like it is. The touch of his body against yours. His voice and his laughter and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles that gorgeous smile. His arm, so close that you worry he’ll feel the heat between your legs. His fingers curling around the shifter knob, the veins on his hand and his skillful and precise movements when changing gears…
Your memories will be all you have of Daniel for a while. You’re counting on them to warm your spirits over a long and lonely winter break.
<3<3
New Year’s Eve
Marcy grabs your arm for support as much as she does to get your attention. It isn’t even midnight, and she’s already had one too many.
She leans in close and whispers loudly, “Are you gonna kiss James tonight?”
Your head snaps to look at her and you guide the two of you down to a seat on the couch. “What do you mean? Why would I kiss James?”
“You two are the only people here who aren’t in a couple. I mean, you’re always together…”
“We’re not together,” you insist. “We’re just friends.”
“You can kiss your friends!”
You shake your head at her persistence. “I think I’ll survive without a kiss at midnight, Marcy.”
She stares across the room at James dreamily. “They say all the good ones are taken…”
Your mind flashes to Daniel… and Ian.
“…But that man is still single somehow. I’d rather kiss him than Derek.” She scrunches up her nose in regret. “Don’t tell him I said that… Derek has just been pissing me off lately.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
Your eyes drift over to James. He glances back like he can feel your gaze. He quickly ends his conversation and pours two glasses of red wine, then walks your way.
“Would you look at that…” Marcy says, standing up to make room for him. She turns her back to James as she walks away and mouths the words “Kiss him!” before disappearing down the hall.
You gladly accept the glass James offers you. “How is Marcy?” he asks, sinking into the deep cushion beside you.
“Boisterous as ever… she was saying she thinks we should kiss.”
“What, she doesn’t want to kiss Derek?”
“No, not me and her. Me and you.”
He raises an eyebrow. You don’t notice the way he shifts nervously in his seat. “What made her say that?”
“Because it’s three couples and us here tonight. I think she doesn’t want us to feel left out.”
He shrugs and gives you a long look. “Maybe she’s right. I mean, we have almost kissed before.”
You hold up a finger. “Uh, excuse me. I tried to kiss you. You were having no part in it.”
He looks down at the wine glass in his hands. He fidgets with it, circling a finger around the rim. “That’s not really true.” He looks back into your eyes. “I wanted to kiss you.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “Then why didn’t you?”
He looks up at the ceiling while he considers how to answer. “I… would’ve been your first boyfriend. And I was already graduating. I was afraid you would come to resent me for taking those years away from you. Or worse, that I would be taking advantage of your youth…”
The slight tension leaves your body, and you lean into him, letting him throw an arm around your shoulders and snuggling into his chest. “I suppose I can’t argue with that… I am very happy with where we’ve ended up.”
He gives you a squeeze. “We could kiss at midnight if you want to, though. If our friendship can survive rejection, I’m sure it can survive a little kiss.”
You put a hand on his chest and push yourself away so you can see his face. You glance at his lips. Your body tingles. “That’s true…”
James is afraid that you’ll feel how hard his heart is beating, but you only feel the shape of his muscles.
“It is… pleasant,” you continue, “to start the new year with a kiss.”
“Mmhmm.” He starts to drift slowly toward you, but stops himself. It’s not midnight yet. He doesn’t want to seem overeager. He has it all planned out, and this wasn’t included. This is just… a slight diversion. But it won’t affect the plan. Don’t let it affect the plan.
“One minute!” someone screams from the next room over. You hear the sound of the TV wafting through the doorway.
James stands up and offers you a hand. You’re glad for the help escaping this couch that tries to swallow you up.
You and James stand behind the three couples as you watch the countdown. You still aren’t entirely sure what’s going to happen.
James isn’t either. He never stopped wanting to kiss you. There’s just always been a good reason not to. By the end of your sophomore year, you were glad you hadn’t settled down with just one person. By the time you graduated, you had a serious boyfriend. By the time you broke up, James’s life was filled with uncertainty. Odd jobs, sleeping on couches, every spare moment dedicated to his writing. He couldn’t ask you to endure the life of a starving artist.
But now…
“Five!”
He’s about to start getting paid for his writing…
“Four!”
He’s about to sign the lease on his own apartment…
“Three!”
He can finally offer you the life you deserve.
“Two!”
He just needs to be patient for a little bit longer.
“One!”
That’s the plan.
The room erupts in a cheer as the ball drops. James turns to you to toast the new year with your wine, but you throw yourself into his arms instead.
Into his lips.
Into his kiss.
It’s deep and sensual and not at all what you were expecting. You didn’t plan to stay, to linger, to indulge in the softness of his lips, to tilt your head to capture more, to feel the urge to climb his body so you can kiss him so much harder…
You remember where you are and pull away before you scandalize your friends.
What the fuck was that?
The group convenes and pulls you and James apart with a series of toasts and cheers. Your mind is fuzzy and your heart is racing.
It takes more than an hour before you find a moment alone with James again. “Can I get you anything?” he asks, gesturing toward your nearly empty glass. His voice sounds hesitant.
“I’m okay,” you reply, taking the last sip of wine and setting it down on the side table. “I’m not trying to get drunk tonight. My parents are coming over for dinner tomorrow.”
“Yeah, same. Well, not about the parents, I mean. Just the drinking.”
You can’t remember James stumbling over his words like that. Neither of you is sure what to say.
“You… are a good kisser, it turns out,” you say with an awkward giggle. “I did not know it was going to feel like that.”
Fuck the plan.
“What did it feel like?” He steps toward you, setting his own glass on the table next to yours and stopping only a few inches away so you can speak under your breath. Even in your heels, he towers above you.
“It felt like I was a freshman again. Standing there in that hallway. Begging you to kiss me. It took me right back to that place.” You pause for a moment. “It’s been a long time since I felt like a kiss could make me melt.”
His breath rattles as he exhales. “That is a good feeling.” He curls his fingers under your chin and lifts your face, tracing the shape of your lips with his thumb. “I still think we made the right decisions, but if I have one regret…”
He kisses you again, but gently this time. He turns your face with his hand, kissing your cheek, then your earlobe. His breath warms your ear as he whispers, “…If I had been your first, I would have blown your fucking mind.”
His lips press firmly against your neck just below the ear.
You gasp. Your knees buckle.
James catches you, kisses you, grabs your waist, and brings you closer. Your beaded gold dress is mostly backless, so his fingertips trace down your spine. You shudder in response, and for a moment, his thigh presses between your legs.
He wraps both arms around your lower back and pulls you further onto your toes. He devours your neck, and you finally manage to breathlessly respond, “You don’t think you could still blow my mind?”
“I don’t remember saying that.”
Your lips part to take his kisses again. His fingertips slip an inch under your dress in the small of your back.
You hear a commotion in the other room and footsteps coming back out. You and James let each other go.
Derek grabs two cans of beer and disappears again. He doesn’t even look your way, but you’re clearly too exposed in this open room near the entryway.
James nods his head toward the stairway. “Upstairs.” It sounds more like a command than a suggestion. His voice makes you wet.
James grabs you by the hand as you dash up the stairs, trying your best to be quiet but unable to stop yourselves from giddy laughter. You really do feel like you’re back in college, stealing away at a party. Your body remembers what his presence did to you back then.
He pulls you into the hall bathroom, locks the door behind you, and lifts you up onto the counter. He can’t slide your dress up your legs fast enough. You can’t open his shiny burgundy shirt fast enough.
He hooks his fingers around your panties, kneeling to the ground while he slips them off. His arms curl under your thighs and he yanks you to the edge of the counter. His hands stay on your ass and his head disappears beneath your dress.
His tongue sends a shockwave through your body. It’s instant. It’s powerful. It somehow feels brand new, yet it’s exactly what your body craves. It feels like the first time again.
The way it would feel if you were touched for the first time by a man with experience and control. A man who cares for you, and knows you, and wants to the very depths of his core to prove his devotion with his tongue.
You feel your world reduced to a single point between your legs. The energy is like a black hole, swirling and growing and swallowing up everything it encounters. You struggle to remember if you’re the powerful woman who knows exactly what she wants or the quiet girl mesmerized by the gorgeous man who asked to be your friend.
What does it matter? James satisfies them both. For your younger self, he’s gentle and diligent, varying his movements to demonstrate the different ways he can send that energy surging forward. He listens to every sound you make and feels the way your body shifts in his arms. That’s all he needs to know when to stay, to keep his tongue’s firm circles steady.
Now more, just a little bit more. That’s it.
Your older self wants more than just his touch. You want his very presence to command you, and it does. You know that he won’t allow you to leave until he’s made you cum.
Your knuckles go white for how hard your hands grip the countertop. James offers a hand for support. You take it, locking your fingers in his and holding him tight. You hook your ankles behind his back. Your body stiffens. James knows exactly what you need.
Right there. Just like that. He won’t stop.
You throw a hand over your mouth to stifle a moan as you’re consumed by the energy his tongue brings forth. The tension that holds your body together is overpowered, and you release and shake and collapse into bliss.
Your body slumps forward above his head. He frees his right arm from beneath your leg, coming back out from under your dress and standing to his full height before you.
You feel weak, but you muster the strength to reach out and touch the clearly outlined bulge in his trousers. He continues to cradle your face in his hand while he uses the other to open his belt and then his pants. He tugs himself free and slips inside you with a suddenness that’s almost overwhelming. That too would feel like the first time if your body didn’t accept him so easily. Your pussy is drenched in cum and desire.
James is deep inside you, but you have more to give. He pulls you to the very edge of the countertop so you can take every inch of his dick.
You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, then your head falls against his chest. His hands move, one to your lower back and one between your shoulder blades.
The strength of his frame supports you while the fluidity of his hips excites you. To his arms you give your body, to his cock you give your mind. He takes responsibility for all of it. You don’t need to concern yourself with anything except how good he feels inside you.
One powerful thrust sends a wave of pleasure crashing so hard that you can’t help but let it escape in a satisfied whimper. Your voice is louder than you expect, and James reacts hastily, weaving his fingers through your hair and forcing your face hard against his pecs. He can feel the vibrations of your moans, but with the sound contained he’s free to fuck you harder.
You start to wonder if he’s going to make you cum again. You hadn’t expected that, but with a handful of your hair in his fist and the rolling motion of his hips, James is leading you quickly back to that edge.
You start to feel yourself getting closer with every stroke, and that only makes the interruption so much worse.
“Has anyone seen James?” someone calls from downstairs.
“No, I’ll let you know if I do,” comes the response.
You shoot upright, pushing James away. You don’t even have time to think about your disappointment at being edged so hard.
“Go, you have to go!” you whisper.
James starts to fumble with the buttons on his shirt. He looks at you while he tucks it back in and tightens his belt. There is such intensity in his gaze.
He kisses you again. A full, prolonged kiss with his hand behind your neck. He can’t help it.
It takes all of his willpower to tear himself away. He doesn’t care if he gets caught, he only cares that you don’t want to be. He disappears out the door.
You hear his voice a few moments later. “You were looking for me?”
“Oh, yeah, you have to tell Cynthia about that customer you had last weekend.”
“Oh my god, the one with the dog?”
“Yes! Cynthia, you’re not going to believe this.”
You wait for a few minutes in the bathroom, examining your hair and lipstick in the mirror and smoothing your dress. The panic has a sobering effect. You hadn’t stopped to consider the consequences until now. You love James. He’s your best friend. What if acting on a decade-old crush ends up ruining your relationship?
You don’t want to believe it was a mistake, but your mind races, spinning in an anxious cycle that reminds you all of the ways you could come to regret this. You need to talk to him.
You slip out of the bathroom and make your way quietly downstairs.
It takes a few minutes for him to finish his story and casually exit the other conversation. He finds you in the corner of the room. You keep your voices low so you won’t be heard over the music.
“It’s time for me to head home,” you tell him. “I called a car. I just… need to say something first.” You pause.
James gives you all the time you need.
You take a deep breath. “Your friendship means so much to me. You mean so much to me.” Your voice starts speeding up as your stress becomes apparent on your face. “And I’m really worried now that we got carried away and this is going to affect our friendship and…”
“Hey.” He takes you gently by the hand. You try to breathe. “You’re my best friend. No matter what happens, that doesn’t change. Okay?”
You nod through the tears that well up in your eyes. Your lip quivers. James hugs you.
“I’m sorry if…” he struggles to get the words out. “I mean, I don’t think we did anything wrong. But if you feel that way, I’m sorry for—”
“No no no. You fulfilled a young woman’s dreams tonight. And it felt really fucking good. You just… mean more to me than just sex.”
He shakes his head and laughs. “After all this time, I sure fucking hope so.”
His laughter finally settles your frantic heartbeat and calms your nerves.
James gives you a long, thoughtful look. You don’t know what he’s thinking. “I…” he starts to speak, then shakes his head. He holds out his little finger. “Besties,” he whispers.
“Forever.”
James feels frozen in that corner while you say your goodbyes to the rest of the group. He can’t believe how close he came to just telling you. What if he should have? What if his grand gesture is undermined by this missed opportunity? He starts to question the plan. It’s like your anxious flurry of thoughts was passed on to him when you walked away.
You’re about to walk away.
Maybe he could…?
He gives you a long hug goodbye, but neither of you say much more.
He watches you walk out the door. He hears you get in the car. He hears it pull away.
He runs outside, heart pounding, prepared to abandon all his carefully thought-out plans. Your car is stopped at the light two blocks away. This is the romantic moment you deserve.
James runs.
His shirt offers little protection against the bitter cold wind, but he doesn’t even notice. He’s overtaken by his love and his longing, and the fire that burns for you keeps him warm.
You would see him now, if you look this way. He waves an arm. “Em! Wait!”
The light turns green. The car starts to pull away. He waves again. “Emily!”
He keeps running as he watches you drive away, desperately hoping to see the flash of the brake lights and the car coming to a screeching halt.
Instead, the taillights simply disappear over the hill.
He stops running in the middle of the empty intersection. The lights turn yellow, then red, then green again. He paces back and forth in the middle of the street, catching his breath with hands on his hips and face pointed toward the sky.
The frigid air feels like it stabs him with every deep breath, and when a gust of wind comes, he feels the chill in his bones.
It’s okay, he reassures himself. It’s all he can do. It’s just a sign. It wasn’t meant to be tonight. Stick to the plan.
<3<3
When he gets back to his apartment, James takes off his shoes at the door and walks quietly to his room. His roommates are probably sleeping. He drops his pants to the floor and sits on the edge of his bed.
He stays for a while. The memories of the night wash over him. He remembers the taste of your cum. He remembers how it felt to be inside you. It eases the sting of your goodbye.
He takes a few deep breaths and finally starts to feel settled. He starts to unbutton his shirt, and his hand brushes against his pocket. There’s something in it. What…?
Oh, right.
He lifts your panties from the place he carefully tucked them so they wouldn’t be on the floor. There isn’t much of the yellow fabric. You didn’t want the lines to show through your dress.
He raises one eyebrow.
He shouldn’t.
His mouth waters.
He shouldn’t.
He lays them across his palm.
He shouldn’t…
His cock is hard before your panties reach his nose. It pulses when he indulges in your scent. He drapes them across his face, lets his shirt slide off his shoulders, and strips out of his boxer briefs.
He falls onto his pillow wearing nothing but his socks and your thong. He lifts it from his face and weaves it between his fingers, then wraps that hand around his cock.
By the time he’s finished remembering you, his chest and abs are streaked with cum. He folds your panties and places them inside his nightstand drawer, then gets up to shower.
Actually, he isn’t finished remembering you. He never will be. Whether he succeeds in winning you over or endures a lifetime of wondering what could have been, you will have a permanent place in his thoughts and in his dreams.
<3<3
Thanks for reading!
Stay tuned for Part Two
~ Milo Sterling
