I know I shouldn't flirt with her, or make dirty jokes, but sometimes I can't help it. Her reactions are the best. I watch her, enjoying the way she's touching her neck. It’s sexy as hell. I like making her blush and making her pulse speed up. It's a thrill to watch her body react to me.
The way her eyes enlarge, or her lips pout. The way her neck bobs as she swallows when she's nervous. The way her lips part softly when she exhales an audible sigh. Her chest as she inhales a sharp breath. All of it, all the subtle things she probably doesn't even realize she's doing, are sexy as fuck.
Call me a tease, and I'll agree. I tease her for selfish reasons. So I can watch.
But I know how she looks at me, and it's not like that. There are no romantic feelings between us, despite the borderline flirting I might do. And I'm okay with that.
I have to be. I don't have a choice.
“All right, it's your loss. Don't complain to me later that your feet are sore. Let's head out.” I hold the door open for her as she grabs her purse, wrapping it over her shoulder.
Lyllian walks by me, the scent of her perfume swirling past me and luring me in. I'm stunned for a moment as I take a deep breath. She smells like wildflowers and honey. Sweet and luscious, and so very, very fucking lickable.
Calm yourself. You don't stand a chance.
This is what the friend zone looks like.
My shoulder bumps hers as we walk down the sidewalk. She looks up at me and smiles, sending my heart into a panic. That smile, that smile drives me fucking crazy. I know I shouldn't enjoy it as much as I do, but I can't help it.
“I'm sorry,” she says, taking a slight step away to put a little more distance between us.
“No, it's fine. I know you have two left feet, you always have.”
“Hey,” she says, giving me an elbow to the ribs. “Like you have room to talk. I remember watching you dance at our senior prom. I'm pretty sure that's the reason Darla Hampton left you there and broke up with you.”
I smirk. It's cute that she remembers little things like this. “Is that why? I thought it was because I like pineapple on my pizza. I guess I read that all wrong.”
Lyllian giggles as she pokes me in the ribs. “That really is disgusting, pineapple doesn't belong on pizza.”
“Don't knock it till you try it.”
“I've tried it. You made me once. Remember? We were at that pizza place that used to be up on Center Street. . .” She closes her eyes, and rolls her hand in the air. “What the hell was it called?”
“Townhouse Pizza.”
“Yes!” she yells, slapping my arm. “That's right, Townhouse Pizza.”
I can't take my eyes off her. The way her eyes light up when she gets excited, or is having a really good time, makes my insides knot up. It's a feeling I'm used to. I've gotten good at ignoring it over the years and pretending it doesn't exist.
I'll never act on these feelings because I'd rather have her in my life than not have her in it at all. So, if being friends is what keeps her around, I'll take it.
She's made it pretty clear anyway, she doesn't see me as anything other than a friend. No matter how much desire I sometimes feel inside, no matter how sexy she looks in her small shorts and tight shirt when she's going to bed, or the way she bites her bottom lip when she's thinking, I have to suppress whatever feelings come up.
“So, what exactly do you need for this dinner thing?” she asks.
“I don't know, a nice shirt and dress pants? A suit maybe? I haven't a damn clue what would be the right thing. It's at Capriccio's, so something nice.”
“I think a suit is the right way to go. What about this place?” Lyl stops outside of Custom Gents and points. “They have some nice suits in here.”
“Sure, let's go check it out.”
“Will I get a fashion show?” she asks, wagging her brows and biting her bottom lip. “Because I expect dinner and a show tonight.”
I really wish I could shut off my brain sometimes. The second she bites her lip I want to kiss her. But I don't. I swallow hard instead, and keep my lips to myself.
“If you're lucky,” I answer, reaching out and opening the door. I place my hand on the small of her back and guide her inside. My fingers linger there, barely touching her, but enough for me to feel the heat of her skin.
“Oh, look at this one,” she says, causing me to rip my hand away from her. She darts to a black suit hanging on the rack, and takes the sleeve with her fingers. “This would look nice on you.”