I felt like the world had just opened up and nearly swallowed me whole because of what I knew was the absolute truth in my heart.
That I was in love with him.
I was in love with my best friend.
That realization would’ve knocked me on my ass if I wasn’t already sitting down.
“I’m fine,” I murmured, waving off the situation because I was so damn confused and shocked and... woke, that I couldn’t form any more words than that.
Please don’t let him press. Please don’t let Jameson figure it out because the result could be disastrous.
I was pulled back to the present, realizing I must’ve been standing here thinking about that moment in time for a while because Jameson was grabbing the last two bottles on the kitchen counter and facing me, this expectant look on his face.
“Thought I lost you in thought there for a minute.”
I gave him a smile but I knew it probably looked forced as hell. “What, ugh, what’s going on with the bottles?” I gestured to the two in his hands.
He lifted them up. “I figured we might as well put them out in the living room, since that’s where we'll be drinking. I don’t want to have to be coming in and out to do a refill, especially if I am good and drunk.” He gave me a grin, then gestured toward the tiny living room for me to follow. And I did, on shaky legs and knees that threatened to buckle under me.
But I managed to follow him out, and prayed—prayed like hell—that tonight could just be normal. Because my fear was getting a little too loose in the lips and spilling my deepest secret that I was in love with him.
Chapter Two
Jameson
I knew I should have taken it easy tonight, but in my head this had all sounded like a good idea.
Get drunk with Lia.
Don’t worry about the fact I was leaving for the next twelve months.
Don’t let the thoughts that I couldn’t even contact her because I would be moving around so much, and in areas so impoverished there was hardly any food to go around let alone medical intervention.
But as I tossed back another shot despite being pretty drunk, it was really fucking clear this was a bad idea.
All around.
There was a movie playing on the TV, but I couldn’t tell anyone what the fuck it was about. I was too focused on Lia, staring at her profile, memorizing it over and over again because it would be what would get me through the next year. Yeah, this had been my choice to go across the ocean to help those in need, to heal and protect, to try and make the world a little better for someone, but it was all because of the goal to come full-circle and be the male Lia deserved.
I wanted to be wholly good, wanted to have this moment in time under my belt so that when I came back home I could start my own business, do non-profit work, and donate my time, show Lia that I was the perfect man for her.
But with the thought of leaving in less than forty-eight hours looming over me, leaving Lia sounded like the worst fucking idea imaginable, and now drinking just made my emotions for her even that more intense.
I lifted my hand and ran it over my jaw, trying to look at Lia inconspicuously.
I’d first felt a tingling of awareness about my feelings for her back in high school, but I pushed them away, burying them deep because our personal lives had been so up in the air. Both of us had been struggling in different ways—what with her mother hardly home because she worked so much, and the relationship between me and my parents becoming unbearable.
I hadn’t wanted to add more confusion and conflict to the mixture.
But then as the years passed, I felt those feelings start to push their way to the surface once more, becoming stronger. I grew jealous of any attention a guy gave her. It was when I saw guys look at her, I became enraged if they thought they had the right to speak to her. It was a good thing she never dated—at least not that I ever knew about—because the jealousy would’ve been so monumental it would have sucked the life right out of me. That, and I would have hurt the bastards.
And that’s when I knew that what I felt for her wasn’t fleeting. It was so deep inside of me, another entity so strong that it rivaled my own consciousness. There was no going away from it, no dodging it, no trying to push it back down. It just kept growing until it consumed me, until the only thing I could think about was making a life for myself because then I could show Lia what I had to offer her.
Keeping my focus on her, I watched as she brought the shot glass to her lips and tossed it back, a drop of amber colored liquor sliding down her bottom lip. I felt my eyelids lower as heat cooked deep in my body. She dragged that perfect pink tongue out and ran it over the droplet, and I heard this low growl leave me. Thank fuck whatever scene was playing drowned out the primal noise.
She reached across the table and grabbed a length of red licorice, and fuck me I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight of her eating it. She was so engrossed in the movie that it made watching her easy because I didn’t have to even try to hide my reaction.
Increased breathing.
Body tight.
Muscles clenched.
Cock so fucking hard the length ached something fierce.
I was vaguely aware of parting my lips, the image of Lia having her lips wrapped around something else that was long and hard. Another groan ripped from me, and this time the movie didn’t muffle the sound. She glanced at me and lowered her brows, the red licorice still in her mouth. She slowly slid it out, her lips perfectly formed around it.
Jesus Christ.
I was pretty sure I came a little in my jeans at the sight alone.
“You okay?” Her brows were still low as a look of concern crossed her face. “You getting sick? Is that why you made that sound?”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I was buzzed really hardcore, and I knew even if I stopped drinking right now, the amount of booze I’d consumed would keep rising in my bloodstream until I was slurring like an asshole.
And all I could do was stare at Lia during this whole inner monologue, knowing that I was about to open my mouth and insert my foot right in there.
Chapter Three
Lia
I felt his eyes on me, had for a while now, but I’d kept stuffing my face with licorice--the red kind cause the black kind tasted like medicinal shit to me--and trying to act like I was watching the movie plastered across the TV screen. But I didn’t want to look over at him because I was feeling loosey-goosey, you know, the kind that was caused by alcohol. It was the kind that made you think that “hey, why not just tell your best friend you’re in love with him”, ‘cause now seemed like the perfect time. Not to mention I was hot, that being this close to him had me very aware that he was all male and I was all female.
I swallowed and promptly started to choke on a piece of licorice, my eyes watering. I reached for the drink closest to me, which wasn’t water, but more alcohol… and that in turn had me coughing even more.
Once I had my composure, I wiped the tears under my eyes and exhaled. Then I went back to trying to act like he wasn’t still staring at me. I grabbed a piece of licorice and slipped it between my lips, tasting the artificial cherry flavor and idly thinking who came up with creating these fake flavors and trying to pass them off as cherry, strawberry, or even grape. Not to mention the blue raspberry flavor.