The Best Friend Bargain

“It’s not a trick question.”

“I don’t know… I guess I miss it. But not him. Exactly.” It has been forever. So long since someone has touched me like they wanted to tear my clothes off.

Well, besides Forest—

And that’s pretend.

The firm touch, the gentle kisses, the sweet nothings—

I do miss that. Badly.

But what am I going to do? I can’t have Forest. And I don’t enjoy casual relationships.

I tried a random hookup in high school. But as soon as the guy unzipped my pants, I froze. His hands were wrong. Invasive. Awkward.

I tried to grin and bear it. Tried to enjoy the manual stimulation. But it just didn’t happen.

Eventually, he gave up on making me come, went back to the party, told all his friends I was frigid.

Which was probably for the best, honestly. Guys in high school assumed I was easy because of my ample… uh, everything. I don’t know what it is about being a bigger girl. But tons of guys assume I’m desperate, willing to take their dick anytime, anyplace.

“Damn. You want it that bad.” Forest’s eyes turn down. “I didn’t realize the situation was that dire.”

“No… it’s just… been a while.”

“How long?”

“Well, since my ex… you know—”

“Fuck, that was three years ago,” he says.

“Yeah…”

His eyes go wide. “That’s forever.”

“Well, uh… maybe three and a half. Toward the end, we weren’t really…” I cared about Steve, but it was never passionate. It was nice. Then it wasn’t. Our breakup wasn’t passionate, angry, sad. It was a formality.

“It wasn’t good anymore?”

“It wasn’t anything. We just stopped.” My eyes meet his. “You and Mackenzie?”

“We were still…” He runs his hand through his hair. “Fuck, we’d hit a wall about a year before that. She’d pulled away. A couple months after that, she started jumping me left and right. I thought… fuck, I guess I didn’t think.” He shakes his head fuck, I was an idiot. “He inspired her.”

“Yeah, but she still wanted it from you.”

He chuckles. “I’m so lucky.”

“Do you think… would you rather the opposite?”

“Would I rather not be sloppy seconds? Is that your question?”

I clear my throat. “Of course, it sounds ridiculous when you say it like that.”

“It is ridiculous.”

“You’d have had nothing.”

He stares at me like I’m crazy.

“Months without sex.”

“So?”

“So… wouldn’t you get horny?”

“What? I don’t have a hand?”

My blush spreads to my chest. “I, uh…”

“Or porn?”

“You watch porn?”

His eyes fill with disbelief. You’re really asking this? “You don’t?”

“It doesn’t work for me.”

“Maybe you haven’t found the right porn.”

“Maybe.” God, it’s hot in here. I… uh… “I…” I hold up my shirt. Motion turn around.

Tragically, he does.

I finish unzipping my dress. Pull it over my head. Lay it flat.

Mmm. His t-shirt smells like his laundry detergent. It’s soft from a million washes. It’s against my bare skin.

The fabric that touched his bare chest is touching mine.

“What do you like?” he asks.

I clear my throat.

“You don’t want to tell me?”

“It’s just…”

“Is it freaky shit?” He turns around. Raises a brow. “I promise I won’t judge.”

“You sound like Holden.”

“No, Holden would get in bed next to you, slide his arm around your waist, and whisper baby, I’ll give you the best show you could ever find.”

That’s probably true. “Is your knowledge of adult entertainment so vast that you can find any content I desire?”

“I have been single for two years.”

“Yeah, but you…”

“But I…”

“Slept with half of Los Angeles after things ended.”

“It was a phase.”

“And it ended because?”

“It got boring.”

“Sleeping with beautiful, thin model looking women got boring?” I ask.

“Were they thin?”

Yes. He slept exclusively with skinny chicks. He has a type. The polar opposite of me. Conventional, thin, trendy. Like Mack. “And tall.”

“Honestly, Skye, I can barely tell the difference between a five-foot-ten woman and a five-foot-five woman.”

“You’re just so tall it’s painful?”

“Not as tall as Chase.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Not that you’re counting?”

“Not that I know he has exactly one inch on me?”

“Does he?”

“Does he… oh.” He chuckles. “Is that what you want? A scene of two guys whipping it out and comparing?”

“No.” I mean, if it’s Forest and anyone, sure. But not as a kink or something.

“Okay, let’s try this.” His eyes shift to my strapless black bra. My dress. “I can hang that up.”

“I will.” I stand.

His eyes go straight to my bare thighs. None of his pajama bottoms or boxers fit my hips.

He’s well built. Lean. Broad shoulders and chest. Narrow waist and hips.

It’s super fucking hot.

But it also means there’s no way in hell his pants are ever getting over my ass.

It is what it is.

It means I wear a t-shirt and panties when I spend the night.

He doesn’t normally care. Or notice.

He doesn’t normally stare at my thighs.

His pupils dilate. His tongue slides over his lips. Then he drags his eyes up my body.

He does it slowly. Like he’s taking me in for the first time.