My lips come to a hover above hers but she keeps them locked down, refusing to budge. I shift tactics by scattering soft kisses along her ear, down her neck and shoulders, her body can’t help but respond.
“This is manipulation,” she says, as my lips flick over her firm nipples through her tank top.
“You ready to kiss me yet?”
“Never,” she says, breathless.
Her body squirms as need begins to consume her. My lips continue over her collarbone and chest as my hands explore—waist then hips then thighs then exactly where she wants me. She grips the pillows, back arching up off the mattress.
She never does give me that morning kiss—she’s stubborn like that—but she unravels beneath me anyway.
A couple of hours later,I’m getting caught up on work emails while Gretchen gets ready when my phone lights up with an incoming call from Drew. He’s been impossible to get a hold of these last few days, his text replies coming in hours after the fact and with no insight as to what’s going on.
I rush to answer. “Hey, man.”
“Hey,” he sighs.
“Gretchen’s gonna be sad she missed you. I think she’s still in the shower. Do you want me to have her call you back?”
“No, no,” he rushes out. “I just wanted to check in. She doing okay?”
“Yeah, she’s alright. Are you okay?”
It’s only been three days since Drew called me in a panic, asking for a favor, but it feels like a lifetime ago.
“Yes, no, maybe. I don’t know, man. I’m sorry, I—I’m not sure I know which way is up right now.”
Silence falls. “You wanna talk about it? Gretch is really worried, you know.”
“I know, but…with her birthday tomorrow and the trip and whatever it’s about, I just don’t want to add another thing to her plate.”
Gretchen’s face when she read Cheyenne’s message last night, flashes forefront in my mind. Her news is ultimately good, even if it does carry shock value. But judging by the sound of my best friend’s voice, it’s obvious his news isn’t as good.
“You could tell me then?”
Reagan calls for him in the background. “Be there in a sec, babe!” he replies before leveling his voice back to me. “Listen, I gotta go. Can you promise me Gretchen’s okay? She’s not in trouble, is she?”
“I promise, she’s okay.”
“Is there anything more you can tell me?”
I take in a deep breath, burdened by the weight of what an honest answer would be.I’m in love with your sister. I’m taking her to meet her birth mom today.
“Honestly, man, she’d prefer to be the one to tell you.”
“Yeah, okay,” he says. “Thank you for being there for her.” The sound of his nails scraping along his face fills the pause that follows. “For me.”
A boulder lodges in my throat and I struggle to fight against the emotion bubbling to the surface. “Yeah, man. Of course.”
When we hang up, I shut down my laptop and bring the hand clutching my phone in a tight fist to my forehead.
Echoes of promises made and broken aren’t so easily silenced when all I’ve allowed myself to think for the past six years is that I’m a terrible friend, I’m not good enough, and I don’t deserve forgiveness. Hope exists now that I’ve chosen Gretchen once and for all, but it’s new, still just an ember down deep inside, buried beneath the weight of the guilt I’ve carried for so long.
The bedroom door opens and I turn to find Gretchen there, a goddamn vision dressed in a pair of olive green, high-waisted khaki shorts with a thick belt made from the same fabric cinching her waist and a tucked in white shirt that’s molded to her form like a bodysuit. Hair still damp, no makeup—she’s perfect.
Taking in my expression, hers falters. “What’s the matter?”
I drop my phone to the table with athudand move to stand in front of her in three strides. Her face in my hands, I bring my lips to hers. I breathe her in, breathing life to that ember tucked away inside.
