Chapter Five
Skylar Parish
The sun is leaking through the gap between the flaps of my curtains and searing me straight in the eyes, pulling me from sleep. My head hurts slightly, and my mouth feels dry; my body is as heavy as lead.
All that to say, I’m mildly hungover.
Stretching out my aching muscles, I release a dissatisfied sigh. I would have liked to sleep in, but my body is trained to wake up in time for practice or school—even on days that I have neither.
Like today, when all I have to do is go to work this evening. Maybe I’ll go to the gym; exercise normally helps get rid of the post-drinking funk.
A soft sigh comes from my left, warm air brushing over my bicep and creating goosebumps in its wake. I turn my head to find Everett still asleep, his blond hair messy and his chapped lips parted.
His lashes flutter briefly as he breathes deeply. This asshole can sleep in, even on days when he shouldn’t. Like today, when he should be driving back to our old neighborhood to have breakfast with his family.
I roll onto my side and face him, watching. He’s lying on his stomach, arms shoved under his pillow, face turned in my direction. I have the urge to run my fingertips over the bridge of his nose, the arch of his brows, the bow of his lip.
And this… it’s odd. Any other day I’d feel the urge to flick him on the forehead and climb right out of bed or flick him on the forehead and lie over his back, stealing his warmth.
But today is a new day, and last night happened.
Flashes of the two of us in the bathroom, of the hot slide of his tongue over mine and his hands gripping at my skin, play between us as I watch him sleep. I’ve never done something like that before.
Kelly was my first kiss, and I’d just barely slipped my clumsy tongue through her lips before Everett pushed her away. I wasn’t expecting a kiss to be so hot.
The inside of Everett’s mouth was so wet it almost burned to touch when he sucked my own tongue inside, letting me taste him.
And Evie… he tastes nice. Outside of the liquor and the soda that coated his teeth and the inside of his cheeks, there was something else there, too. I think I could taste his desire.
The sheer intensity of his want tasted so sweet, so unique to him that it makes me wonder if I pin him down and shove my tongue back inside, will he taste the same even now?
Or now that he’s sober and the sun is out to bare us wholly, will he taste of regret?
The rise and fall of his bare back is steady and hushed in the silent room, yet there is a tsunami raging inside of me.
As if a gate has been opened and all of the years I’ve spent uninterested in fooling around, in intimacy, are coming back for revenge all at once.
My repressed sexuality has nothing to do with the gender I prefer or a lack of options, and everything to do with having no worthy partners. I am not a narcissist—I can see my own faults—but I also have incredibly high standards.
Why should I make myself smaller, or settle in any way, when my hand can take care of all the things I’d need a man for?
Except now, after experiencing the sensations of my rolling hips against Everett’s, of knowing what someone else’s hands on my body feels like… I’m not sure my theory was correct.
It’s just unfortunate that I ended up in that bathroom with Evie. Sure, he’s gorgeous; he wouldn’t have the body count he does if he wasn’t. And from what I personally experienced, I’m sure he’s a great lay. But it’s Evie.
Things can get awkward, and fast. Now that I know what he sounds like when he’s panting and all worked up, and what it feels like to hear his praise aimed right at me, I’m not sure how to move forward.
Having my sexual awakening is all fun and games when it’s not my best friend’s hands dismantling my beliefs on needing another for pleasure.
But I digress. Pleasure is pleasure, right? We can be mature about it; Everett is the king of hookups. Actually, after being so wrapped up in each other for so long, I’m honestly a little surprised it’s taken him this long to touch me.
I know he’s technically straight, but considering the length of our friendship and the amount in which we touch, I find it a little shocking that it’s taken us this long to drunkenly cross the line, only to awkwardly joke about it for years to come.
But, to be fair, I didn’t really give him room for desire, did I? And Everett is not the kind of guy who gets off on forcing other people.
At the end of the day, what’s done is done. And I have a whole new side of myself to explore, all thanks to a generous supply of liquor and Kelly’s sneaky little games.
Why did she send Everett with me, anyway? And why was Everett so against her going at first?
Oh, god. Everett has a crush on Kelly! It actually makes a lot of sense; he’s always suggesting it just be the four of us, never wanting others to join our group. Then he had some weird aversion to me kissing her and her going into the bathroom with me.
He also hasn’t dated—not since we met her.
Okay, so Everett hasn’t ever dated, but prior to Kelly could just be a coincidence. He’s always smiling when she’s around, always laughing. And Kelly is beautiful. If I swung that way, I’d be all over it. Mystery solved, I guess.
The clock reads 7 a.m., so I stop staring Evie down and climb out of bed, slipping my athletic clothes on and heading toward the apartment gym. I like to start my workouts with some time on the treadmill.
But… will things be weird if they date? Will the group dynamic change? Will Everett’s and my dynamic change? Surely Kelly would understand that he spends most nights with me. Surely she wouldn’t steal all of his time from me.
I guess him dating one of our close friends is better than him dating some chick I don’t know, who doesn’t understand us.
And now that the floodgates of my lust have been forced open, am I supposed to come out? Just so no one is shocked when I eventually take a guy home?
No. There’s no point. If I do find some guy in a bar, or by some stroke of luck end up on a date, I’ll come out then.
I put these thoughts aside as I continue my workout, going through the motions with an empty mind until my hangover is gone and my limbs are sore. Then, I make my way back to the apartment.
Everett is gone, already headed back to Rockhill to see his family, so I plop down onto the couch and turn on the TV. I let whatever was playing last flicker across the screen, hardly paying it any attention.
Last night was drunken desire—repressed lust on my end. And yet, I can’t get the feel of his hard chest against mine out of my head. How every single inch of me lit up when he complimented me, when he whispered such sweet, filthy things against my skin.
“You sound so sexy telling me what to do. You always have,” plays on a loop in my mind. And every once in a while, the word always snags and lodges itself within me. An uncomfortable and concerning warning sign illuminates the world around me.
But before I can grasp it, before I can put any real emphasis or importance on the word, I recall how it felt as he nipped at my jaw and dug his fingers into my hips—and the gravity of the situation falls away.
If Everett weren’t my best friend, I believe I’d jump him the moment he comes home. I’d be desperate to taste that desire again, to lick his skin and feel his body pressed to mine.
I now understand why women keep chasing him, even while they know that he is an elusive, unobtainable creature.
And even as I know all of this, and I am content to separate desire and Evie himself, I cannot seem to diminish that feeling I got last night. The one that crept in and wrapped around my heart like a living, breathing thing.
“You do this lot?” I had asked.
“I guess so.” He said it with a smile—a lazy, lustful smile that dripped with sex and temptation.
How is it that I can feel this idea of betrayal, even as I know the kind of lover Everett is? When I have no claim, no horse in the race, and no intention of ever completing?
This is another adult thing I do not understand. But I do know that when I think about it, my body hurts. It’s a hot, sick pain. And it feels almost as overwhelming as the inside of his mouth did.
After some time, when I still cannot think of anything else, I decide to go for a run through campus. Maybe once I return, Evie will be back, and we can laugh these uncomfortable thoughts and feelings away.
Maybe we can go back to the way things were.