“You look perfect.”
“Thank you,” she says as she looks up at the clock. “I should probably go.”
“I'm coming with you.”
“Are you sure? I mean, you don't have to.”
“They think we're together, remember? Keeping up appearances is good. Plus, I need to go the office anyway. I can look over a few things for myself.”
“Right, okay, then let's get going.” She's nervously fidgeting with her hands. She runs them down the outside of her thighs, then braids and unbraids her fingers in front of her chest. Using the pads of her fingers, she swipes sweat off her forehead as she groans with nerves. “I'm so nervous.”
I push myself up from the couch, reaching out with both hands as she walks by me, and grabbing her by the wrists. Pulling her in, I hold her hands in mine. “Lyl, you're going to do great. Eileen has already seen what I know. You're smart, you're funny, and you're trustworthy.” I release her hands to grab her face, giving her a tender, reassuring kiss on her forehead. “Trust me, you've got this.”
“Thanks, Doug. You're always good at getting me to calm down.”
The smile she gives me makes the world disappear and my body warm.
Why did I ever fight this? I've always wanted this with her.
The sleepless nights knowing she's right across the hall. The daydreams in school. The wandering thoughts and stolen glances. I've already taken all the little bits of her I can, while knowing that she just wants to be friends.
It's getting harder and harder to remember why I fought so hard to ignore what I want. I can't pretend that the thoughts haven't always been there, and the dreams were just a lie of what I can never have.
Why can't I have both? Why can't we give in to what we feel, and still keep the unspoken boundaries we've established over the years?
We can be friends. We can even be friends with benefits. Lust is just lust. Two people can share each other and still maintain the baseline. It doesn't have to be complicated. We don't have to think more about it than what it is.
It's like wanting dessert and denying yourself. Starving yourself just leads to binge eating. Why torture yourself at all?
Lyllian and I are mature adults who know how to keep feelings out of this. There's nothing wrong with giving in occasionally, so you can have your cake and eat it too. Just eat the damn cupcake.
Friends can be friends.
Sex can be sex. . .
Until it can't.
7
Lyllian
“Wish me luck,” I say as my fingers dangle in his.
“I'll do you one better than that.” Doug leans in, giving me a deep and passionate kiss. “You've got this, just be yourself,” he says.
I wish I was as confident in myself as he is in me. It's hard to see your own value. I've never been good at it. But Doug has always been good at making me feel worthy of what I deserve.
The butterflies I feel turn into a swarm as I stand outside the conference room door. Hesitantly, I knock softly on the open door as I peer inside.
Eileen lifts her head up from the long, mahogany table, and gives me the same smile she gave me last night. I didn't expect this. I guess inside I thought work Eileen would be ruthless as a bear, and stern as a queen ruling over her kingdom.
“Oh, you're here!” she calls out as her small, frail, seventy-year-old frame jumps up from her seat. She clasps her hands in front of her chest, her smile broadening. “I wasn't sure how you were going to feel about this. How do you feel, dear?”
“Honestly?”
“I wouldn't want to hear anything else.”
“Nervous but excited.”
“Those are the best feelings to have. Your nerves will keep you on your toes, but your excitement will keep you driven to excel and rise above.” She gives me another warm smile, then waves her arm toward the table. “Come take a seat, I don't want to leave you wondering what you're even interviewing for.”
“Yeah, I think that'd be good to know. I appreciate this though, I really do.”
She shakes her head as she cleans up the area in front of her. “Well, you made a great impression last night, and I just left thinking I had to have you on my team. But nothing is set in stone, even if I like you as a person. I still need to make sure you'll be a good fit.”
“Of course, I'd expect nothing less.”
“Good, let's get started, shall we?”
“Well?” he asks as I come out of the interview.
His eyes are big as the moon, pupils black as night. He looks more nervous than I did before I went into the interview. There's impatience in his tone as he tilts his head and rolls a single finger for me to spit it out already before he goes nuts.
My lips are thin, and I have no expression on my face. Folding my mouth down, I shrug a limp shoulder. As I exhale a slow, defeated breath, I say, “Well—”
“Oh no, did it not go good?” he asks, cutting me off. His eyes turn from worry into sadness. He takes a step in, cupping my elbows with his hands, and softly caressing me with his thumbs. “I'm so sorry, Lyl. I really thought you had this in the bag.”
“Yeah, well, you should be sorry, because now you'll have to see me the entire time you're working on Eileen's movie.”
“Wait, you got the job?” he asks, arching a high brow.
I nod excitedly. “I got the job!”
He gives me a playful push and turns away from me. “You suck, you really had me going. I honestly thought you didn't get it.”
“I know, I got you good.” I bite my tongue and smile.
Doug lunges at me and starts to tickle my ribs. “I can't believe you did that. I can't believe you let me think you didn't get it. Is it still funny? Huh? Still think you're a comedian now?”
I'm laughing hard, trying to block him and push him away. “Stop! No more!” I call out between laughs. “Mercy, mercy,” I say, attempting to back away as I swat wildly at his hands.
“Say I win.”
“What? No way. What are you, twelve?”
“Say it. Say I win.” He keeps digging his fingertips into my ribs, making it hard to breathe.
“All right, all right, you win, just stop tickling me.” I wave the white flag, giving in. I can't take it. I hate being tickled, and he knows it.
Doug throws his arms up and pumps them in the air. “Hell yeah, I win.”
“You're suck a dork.”
He chuckles. “I still win. You said it yourself.” Running his hand through his hair, he grips the back of his neck. “Well then, I think this is cause for celebration.”
“Oh really?”
“Of course, it is. I won, you got the job, now we need to go celebrate. Come on, I've got just the place in the mind.”
I follow him as he starts walking. “Where are we going?”
“Some place fun.”
“That could be anywhere.”
“Could be, but it isn't. This is a particular place you love.”
Veering my stare, I purse my lips. “Is it Gelina's Ice Cream? Because I love that place. They have the best peanut butter cup ice cream.”