Twenty-six
Bri
Liem is trouble. He’s everything I want yet nothing I deserve to claim.
Unexpected sunshine wakes me up. Liem’s head rests on my chest, his arm wrapped around my rib cage.
We often wake up this way, Liem unintentionally becoming my heated blanket in the middle of the night.
He sleeps so peacefully after leaving me a mess.
Had I not been exhausted, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep last night.
I wanted more. At least another round; however, one can only go so long at three in the morning after four orgasms between us. Maybe I’m getting old.
He doesn’t stir when I brush my hand over his head, feeling the soft curls turning to the stubble of his high fade.
My thumb traces the arches of the beautiful lips I wish I could kiss without ruining his sleep and, soon after, his sheets.
I’ve missed my friend. Having sex with him wasn’t not the plan, but I want to spend quality time with him too.
I miss the days we could be close to each other while doing nothing.
Finally, his eyes open slowly. I’m not sure he’s awake until he says, “You’re here.”
“Where else would I be?”
“I don’t know. I was afraid I dreamt you up.”
“If you dreamt me up and chose to give me this uterus, I’d wreck your shit.”
He laughs, carefree and genuine. I love to see him smile. It hasn’t looked this way in a while. Not since the last time we were able to be careless in an apartment together.
We sit up, and my pelvic region screams at me. Whatever my face is saying makes Liem grow serious. “Are you hurting?”
“A little, but I’ll be okay after we walk around a bit. What are we doing today?” I ask.
“Anything you want.”
As much as I want to pin him down on this mattress and feel him inside me again, that will come when he wants it to come. There’s a dirty joke in there somewhere, but I’m too hungry to think straight.
“I want brunch.”
“Okay,” he says without pause. He sits up to get ready, aware that my requests for food must be satisfied with haste. “What are you feeling?”
“Your favorite place.”
“I have about six of those.”
“Then take me to the one with the best bennies.”
He cracks a grin. “I got you.”
Carefully, he holds the covers around his waist while he scans the floor for something.
He finds a pair of underwear and slips them on beneath the shield of sheets.
His modesty is precious considering what we did a cool six hours ago.
The switch-up between when he’s humping me and when he’s hanging with me is the most entertaining phenomenon to witness.
The flutter between my thighs is probably a spasm, but it feels like a purr.
“Want to shower then go?”
I sit up, excited by the proposition. “Sure.”
“You can go first.”
“First? Why not simultaneously?” I wriggle my eyebrows at him.
His cheeks get pinker. “Okay.”
~
Liem outdid himself. Or maybe Seattle does it for me.
We went to five different museums—art, science, glass sculptures—but the winner by far was the Museum of Pop Culture near the Space Needle.
We got lost in there for over two hours, me obsessing over the wild differences between each of the sections.
Music history, costume design, nerdy entertainment in each genre—fantasy, sci-fi, horror.
It was so cool to see it all come together in one place and to see locals enjoying it as much as tourists.
Rain is bad enough, but this drizzle shit is next level, especially since no one uses a damn umbrella. I feel like I’m getting gaslighted by the locals. A bunch of Patagonia-covered liars.
“Next time I come up here, I’m getting braids,” I remark while we wait for the elevator back up to his apartment. His deluxe apartment in the sky. While my curls aren’t happy, at least I had enough edge gel to convert them into a passable ponytail.
I glance over, finding the sweetest smile on Liem’s face. My words meant something big to him, and it was barely a thought. Even if we only see each other once a year, it would be worth it.
The lobby is cold, my thin sweater not doing much to block out the chill without a rain jacket. “My nips are nipping.”
We share a light laugh, the comfort of Liem being a friend, not a typical male who thinks everything is an invitation for sex. Not that I’d be opposed. He looks at me—not my visible nipples—and holds my gaze until, for a brief moment, his eyes flicker down to my lips.
“Here.” He lifts the hem of his hoodie and pulls it off.
“You’re going to give me your statement piece? How will you survive?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want your areolas to be your statement piece?” He helps me put it on. The lightweight material feels cool, like workout wear rather than college attire. Unfortunately, it hangs to my thighs.
“Now that I see it, this is a lewk,” I remark jokingly.
“Everything looks good on you.”
“Because I look good?”
His smirk answers my question.
In the elevator, the air crackles, the water turning to steam against my hot skin. I want him. I want what we had last night. I want more than what we had last night. The other passengers step off on their floor, and a minute seems to pass while I wait for the doors to close and give us privacy.
“Liem—” I can’t finish my sentence before his lips crash against mine.
If the passion behind his kiss tells me anything, it’s that I won’t be wearing his hoodie for much longer.
We stumble out of the elevator, the kiss never breaking. My back hits the door, Liem trying and failing to grab keys while still tongue-fucking my mouth and squeezing my ass. My pussy is hot and ready, impatiently waiting for him to turn this energy into fucking me.
“Oh my god!”
The voice makes us jump in fear.
“What the—? Why are you here?” Liem asks.
A near clone of Liem stands in front of us.
Thinner, more feminine, but with the same impossibly pretty face.
She crosses her arms and wears an expression of triumph rather than betrayal.
“Uh, to make sure you have a pulse and bring you to dinner since you haven’t been answering your phone. Mom got back last night.”
I gasp. “You’re Liem’s sister!” I announce as if it’s news to anyone but me.
“Yep. Who the hell are you and what did I just interrupt?” Her conniving smirk is so younger sister, it’s not even funny.
“This is May.” Liem introduces us with minimal enthusiasm. “This is Bri.”
“Bri? The Brooklyn baddie?”
That’s my nickname? Better question: Which one of them gave me that nickname?
She looks between the two of us. “You really aren’t a virgin, huh?”
“May, I swear to—”
“It’s nice to meet you, Bri. You should come to dinner tonight. Our dad is cooking.”
“I’d love to,” I agree. Seeing Liem cringe, I correct myself. “I mean, unless we have other plans.”
“If you want to go, we can,” he says, not a glimmer of excitement in his tone or expression.
I turn so May can’t see me. “Do you want to go?” I whisper just loud enough for him to hear.
He wars with his thoughts, but his sister’s wishes win out. “We can.”