We lie for an age in silence until I feel Gregory’s chest rise, drawing air, prepared to speak. ‘Are you ready to give me the full story yet? You’re not fine, and don’t bother trying to fob me off with the “other woman” story because you kinda had your suspicions before. It didn’t stop you then.’
I shake my head no into his chest, but I’m not sure whether I’m declining his offer to explain or if I’m telling him that no, it’s not the supposed other woman. The former I don’t need to confirm. It’s glaringly obvious, but the latter isn’t. I could never share the real reason why my life is over. And William? No, no, I couldn’t.
‘Okay,’ he sighs above me, squeezing me tighter, but then his phone starts ringing and he eases up a little to dig through his pocket. I definitely don’t imagine the increased speed of his heart rate under my ear. Pulling from his chest, I find him staring down at the screen, looking completely defeated. His expression reminds me that while I’ve been wallowing in self-pity, my best friend has been suffering, too. I feel incredibly guilty, which, even more selfishly, feels so much better than my constant aching heart.
‘Are you going to answer it?’ I ask quietly, while he continues to stare down at the screen. I’m not sure why he looks so upset. Surely he should be happy that Ben is calling. Or am I missing something? Probably. I don’t recall much from the past two weeks at all, but I distinctly remember he’d spoken to Ben briefly and it wasn’t good. Or did I imagine that?
He lifts his eyes and smiles, but it’s a sad smile. ‘I guess I should. I’ve been expecting it.’
I frown a little as he connects the call, but he doesn’t speak. He just holds the phone to his ear and it’s mere seconds before I hear Ben’s angry shouts, plain and clear. Gregory winces as his ex-lover hurls abuse down the line, ranting about calling and harassing him. I’m stunned, even more so when Gregory apologises quietly. He’s got nothing to be sorry about. He’s not the one pretending to be someone he isn’t. He’s not hiding from the truth. Familiar anger bubbles but for a whole other reason, and in a moment centred on pure protective instinct, I snatch the phone from my friend’s limp hand and let out two weeks’ worth of fury. I’m raging.
‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ I shout, jumping up from the bed when Gregory tries to regain possession of his mobile. I pace doggedly around my bedroom, quaking with rage.
‘Who’s this?’ Ben’s voice has quieted. He sounds shocked.
‘It doesn’t matter who it is. You’re nothing more than a fraud! You’re a spineless coward!’
Ben is now silent but breathing heavily as I continue to attack him. ‘You deserve to be miserable! I hope you wallow in misery for the rest of your life, you pathetic, gutless arse!’ I’m hyperventilating, physically shaking. ‘You don’t deserve the affection or time Gregory has given you, and you’ll soon realise that. And by then it’ll be too late! He’ll be over you!’ I smash the disconnect button and throw Gregory’s phone on the bed, while my friend looks at me in shock, his eyes wide, his mouth agape.
Trying to cool my boiling blood and rein in my quaking body, I watch in silence as Gregory attempts to spit some words out. He’s stuttering, totally stunned, a bit like me. It wasn’t my place to do that. I had no right to interfere, especially as I’ve chastised my friend when he’s tried to step in on my diabolical relationship with a certain man disguised as a gentleman.
‘I’m sorry,’ I pant, failing to stabilise my erratic breathing. ‘I didn’t—’
‘Sassy,’ he says simply, and once again I fall apart, my anger making way for my depression to return full force. My chin drops to my chest, my arms hang limply by my sides, and I sob uncontrollably, my pathetic form now shaking for different reasons. I feel no better after my tirade.
Hearing a heavy sigh of frustration emanate from the bed, I’m pulled down to Gregory’s chest and wrapped in his arms. ‘Shhhh,’ he soothes, rocking me back and forth, stroking my hair. ‘I get the feeling those words weren’t meant for Ben.’
I nod and he tightens his squeeze. They were appropriate for Ben, but I wish I were delivering them to another man. And I also wish I could reap what I sow.
‘What a pair we are.’ He sighs. ‘How did we get ourselves in this mess?’
I don’t know, so I shake my head, sobbing and snivelling uncontrollably.
‘Hey.’ He pulls me out of my hiding place and holds my face gently as he gazes down at me, sympathy gushing from his eyes. ‘What are we going to do with each other, baby girl?’
‘I don’t know,’ I choke out, letting Gregory stroke the trail of tears away from my wet cheek. ‘I feel hopeless.’
‘Me too,’ he agrees softly as our eyes hold each other. ‘Me too.’
There’s an unexpected shift in the atmosphere, the two friends comforting each other suddenly looking longingly into each other’s eyes, misery and desolation seeming to make way for something else.
Something strange.
Something forbidden.
I’m confused by it, and when my friend’s lips part, his eyes flicking down to my mouth and his face coming slowly closer, my head starts spinning wildly. There are plenty of reasons to halt what is about to happen, but I can’t think of them at the moment. I can’t think of anything, except that this could be exactly what I need.
I start inching closer, too, until our lips meet and my heart starts thudding in my chest. The unusual feeling of my best friend’s lips on mine doesn’t deter me. I shift my position, throwing my leg over Gregory’s reclined body and settling myself across his hips, keeping our mouths joined, letting our tongues dance madly. The sensation of his hands running all over my back and his mouth pressed hard to mine brings me a strange comfort, even if it’s alien and not what I’m used to. It doesn’t matter. I need different.
‘Livy.’ He breaks our kiss, panting in my face. ‘We shouldn’t. This is wrong.’
I don’t let him try to talk us out of this. I smash my lips back on his and start working him desperately, feeling his strong arms and smoothing down his tight muscles. He groans, the evidence of his hardness beneath me pushing me on.
‘Livy,’ he argues weakly, making no attempt to push me off.
‘We’ll help each other,’ I gasp, pulling at the hem of his T-shirt. He doesn’t stop me. He shifts, making my task easier, and is soon rid of it, leaving his chest exposed to my roaming hands. It’s not long before I feel my top being pulled off, and I release his lips to sit up, letting my best friend in the whole world strip me. With a lack of a bra covering my modest br**sts, I’m left in just my small pyjama shorts with Gregory’s eyes focused on my tight ni**les that are within licking distance.
‘Oh f**king hell,’ he mumbles, looking up at me as I wheeze in his face. ‘Oh f**king, f**king hell.’ He takes the tops of my arms and pushes me to my back, taking my mouth again urgently as he pushes my shorts and knickers down my legs. He’s hard and wedged up against my thigh, pulsing incessantly, and I find myself fumbling at the fly of his jeans. He helps me, lifting his h*ps slightly so I can rid him of the denim, until we’re both naked, rubbing up against each other, rolling around the bed, kissing and feeling.
‘Fucking hell,’ he curses again, working his mouth across my cheek while I pant up at the ceiling. ‘We should stop.’
‘No,’ I breathe.
‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’ He makes no attempt to halt, finding my mouth again and plunging his tongue in urgently. We’re matching each other in the frenzied stakes. Hands and lips are everywhere as we explore unknown territory. We’re both consumed with desperation to eradicate our woes, neither one of us seeming prepared to stop this. We should halt it. This won’t help.
‘Oh God!’ I yelp, throwing my head back when Gregory cups my breast. I’m squirming beneath him, my whole being tingling with fevered shots of desperate pleasure. Our mouths quickly find each other again and my hand starts venturing downward until I have his hard, hot length in my grasp.
‘Holy shit!’ he barks, his h*ps bucking forward, prompting a full stroke down his shaft. ‘Oooooh shit.’
Pleasure-filled noises are drowning the room. We’re lost. Gregory pulls back and gazes down at me, his brow shimmering in sweat, his breath spreading across my heated face.
‘Do that again,’ he breathes, pushing his h*ps forward.
I pull an even swipe of my palm down his hardness and he draws an uneven breath. His head drops briefly, only for a second, before he lifts again and falls back to my lips, swirling his tongue through my mouth. It shouldn’t, but this feels nice. I’m focused only on my best friend kissing me, his hands feeling me, and his body pushed against mine.
‘You taste like strawberries,’ he whispers hoarsely.
Strawberries.
The word hits me like a sledgehammer, and I’m suddenly dropping him from my grasp and wriggling beneath him. ‘Greg, stop!’
He freezes, pulling back to look down at me. ‘Are you okay?’
‘No! We should stop.’ I scramble up and pull the sheets over me, covering my na**d body, feeling ashamed . . . guilty. ‘What are we thinking?’
Gregory sits up and rubs his palms frantically over his face, groaning, but now it’s in regret. ‘I don’t know,’ he admits. ‘I wasn’t thinking, Livy.’
‘Me neither.’ I meet his eyes, pulling the protective sheeting closer, while Gregory remains uncovered and quite unbothered by it. He’s still . . . ready . . . and I try to divert my eyes anywhere except at the hard length of muscle jutting from his lap. It’s difficult. It’s like a magnet to my eyes. I’ve never allowed myself to look at my g*y friend like this, but when he’s totally exposed and looking so ripped, it’s impossible. He’s everything a man could ask for, and a woman, for that matter. He’s hot, so kind, and totally genuine. But he’s my best friend. I can’t lose him to the awkwardness that will descend if we continue – if it’s not too late already. But that isn’t the only reason. No man could ever fill the gaping hole in my heart, nor could they sate my desire. Only one man can do that.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say quietly, guilt consuming me. I don’t know why. I have nothing to feel remorseful for, except for jeopardising my friendship with Gregory. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Hey’ – he pulls me onto his lap and squeezes me – ‘I’m sorry, too. I think we both got a little carried away.’
I snuggle deep, searching for the comfort I need. It’s nowhere to be found. ‘It was my fault.’
‘No, I instigated that. It’s my fault.’
‘I beg to differ,’ I whisper, letting him attempt to rub some life back into me.
The rise and fall of his chest under me indicates his heavy sigh. ‘What a pair,’ he muses. ‘A couple of sad-arse losers pining after something we can’t have.’
I nod my agreement. ‘You won’t go off and screw another woman, will you?’ I ask, knowing it’s what generally happens when he’s dumped by a bloke and probably why things went too far just now. ‘I don’t want you to do that.’
‘I’m swearing off men and women for a while.’ He chuckles, making me smile a little.
‘Me too.’
‘So you’re basically returning to reclusive, then?’ he quips lightly.
‘Look where being the alternative has got me.’
‘Not all men are like that cocksucker.’ He pulls me from his chest and clenches my cheeks fiercely. ‘Not every man will shit all over you, baby girl.’
