I blow on the eyelash in front of me, willing the glue to dry faster. I position it on my eye slowly, trying to place it just right. I blink a few times, making sure it is on right, and straighten my back before taking in my full appearance. I run my hands down my stomach, willing the nerves to settle, knowing tonight is just like any other, even though it feels like it isn’t.
My brown hair is curled and hangs right below my shoulders. My makeup looks flawless – not that Jace is going to notice. I smooth my hands down my dress, the material clinging to my body like a second skin, the dark green matching well with my dark hair and darker eye makeup. I take in my appearance as a whole, adrenaline running through my entire body at the prospect of seeing Jace in a situation that feels oddly like a date. I instantly ridicule myself, frustrated that I’m thinking about him when I know I shouldn’t be.
It’s disgusting to me how long I have been waiting on Jace to make a move. When we first became friends, I thought it was inevitable. I thought he was just waiting for the right time, and eventually, we would find our way to each other. Then, I assumed that he just wanted to get to know me better. It felt like he was just being respectful, treating me like an entire person, and not just something that he wanted to claim. It’s been three years now, and I’ve had to accept that the feelings must be one-sided because if he wanted me, I would know.
It’s not like I have been waiting around for him. I’ve been focusing on myself, dating other people, and trying not to prioritize a relationship in my life. I’ve been trying to fill my time and forget about the stupid crush, but nothing has worked. No one has been able to take my attention away for more than a few weeks.
I’ve thought about telling him how I feel a hundred times, but I always back out before I do. We have an amazing friendship, one I’m not sure I want to risk. What if I’ve made this entire thing up in my head, and he feels nothing for me? I don’t want to make things weird between us, but I hate being in this strange in-between.
I walk downstairs, put on a pair of gold strappy heels that make my legs look amazing, and plop on the couch, biding my time until Jace comes to pick me up. I will my nerves to settle, reminding myself that tonight is just like any other.
I can’t say I’m not nervous to see Jace dressed up though. That man has been on my mind for almost every single orgasm I’ve had in the last few years, and the image of him in a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, has made my back arch off my bed several times already.
I try to get myself to stop thinking about it, stop thinking about running my tongue up his chest, tasting his skin, but I can’t. His body lives in my head, and every time I try to evict it, it just gets worse, completely consuming me.
The rumble of a car approaches my apartment building, and I rise from the couch, already knowing he’s here. Jace usually has a project car he is working on – something he still tries to insist we should do together – and his current one is without a muffler. It’s loud enough to hear from a few blocks away.
I grab my water bottle and purse quickly, take a deep breath, and then head out the door, trying to convince myself that tonight is going to be fine. It’s not a big deal that it feels like a date. Tonight is going to be like any other, even though we are dressed up and going to an event together…almost like a date. It’s fine.
I lock the door behind me, turning toward his car and instantly making eye contact with Jace through the windshield. His eyes glance down my body, just barely, quick enough that I may have imagined it. I breathe out quickly, the warm air around me calming my nerves.
I climb into the truck, my senses being invaded by the smell of Jace. Woodsy and citrus scents wrap around me, completely consuming me. I try to breathe through my mouth, feeling dizzy from being near him, but it still doesn’t help. My senses can’t seem to process anything other than him. I’m so toast.
“Hey, Cal,” Jace quietly greets me as I settle into my seat and close the door. I look over and he’s already smiling at me, something that makes my heart rate jump with a nervous flutter.
His eyes connect with mine and I get lost for a second. Deep brown, with flecks of gold, only noticeable if you look closely, if you take your time to appreciate him. He sits with a confidence that everyone can see, his arm resting on his leg making him look particularly sexy. It’s just the way he holds himself that shows his confidence. He stares right at me, his eyes fully taking me in, making me feel exposed and seen at the same time. He never shies away from looking at me, something that I’m not sure is a good thing or a bad thing for me.
His brown hair is getting longer, and it is starting to fall into his face. He moves it around quite often, pushing it back when he feels an ounce of uncomfortable feelings. I know he isn’t excited about the party tonight because his hair looks mussed, combed through with his fingers several times at this point.
“Hey, you ready?” I ask, trying to dispel some of my nervous energy while buckling into his truck. The seatbelt sits right between my tits, and I see Jace’s eyes dip to the cut of my dress, taking in my appearance fully in a way I’ve never seen from him before. I’ve never been sure if Jace sees me like that, if he’s attracted to me, but his eyes race down my body, examining me with hunger in his eyes. I watch him as he makes his attraction obvious and I feel myself let out a stuttering breath, not knowing what to do with myself.
“Uh, yeah,” he mutters as if he lost focus for a second, and I feel my face flush at the thought. He wets his lips with his tongue, and I track the movement, not able to look away. He finally tears his eyes away from me, looking back to my apartment building, his cheeks tinted red.
He is wearing exactly what I expected him to wear, a white dress shirt that looks freshly ironed and a pair of basic black slacks. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up in a way that makes my mouth literally fucking water. He goes to turn the truck around, putting his arm on my seat as he turns to look out the back window while he reverses, and I watch intently, his forearm pressing against the sleeve of his shirt, the simple movement driving me crazy.
He turns around and starts driving toward Finn’s house, and I do my best to pretend I wasn’t staring. The longer we drive, the higher the tension in the car grows. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but he grips the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. He refuses to look at me, just sends me sideways glances now and again. He lightly grinds his jaw together, soft enough that I almost don’t notice
I huff out a breath, not understanding what is bugging him so much. He is usually one of the most cool, calm, and collected people I know. “Okay, what’s wrong?” I finally ask, turning my entire body toward him, raising my eyebrow in expectation, and willing him to tell me.
“Nothing,” he replies, completely avoiding looking at me. I give him my best challenging look, and I know he can see it out of his peripherals, but he avoids it, pretending he can’t see it.
“That’s how you’re gonna be?” I ask, a joking tone to my voice, and he breaks out into a smile instantly, his knuckles loosening on the steering wheel as the tension eases from the car. This is my favorite part of our friendship, when the tension melts away and we can just talk to each other. It’s times like these that I remember what is at stake if I confess my feelings. We have this ability to make each other break out of pissed off moods with just a few words, something I have never had with anyone else.
“But, seriously, what’s wrong?” I ask again, my tone genuine.
He groans and looks at me again, taking a moment to think before he seems to decide on something. “Okay fine,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road. “It’s just always a little annoying to be around Finn. He always got everything he ever wanted and it’s tough to compete,” he admits, his voice shy, reserved, as if this is something he doesn’t want to say out loud.
I do my best to be a good friend, resisting the urge to reach out and comfort him with my touch, but come up blank, not knowing how to make this situation better. “He doesn’t have everything ,” I urge, trying my best to be helpful. He looks over at me, his eyes piercing my entire soul, with a look that says, “seriously?”, and I laugh instantly. “Okay, yeah, that was bad. I just mean that he doesn’t have everything you want, ya know?” I say, shifting my gaze out the window, not able to look at him anymore without appreciating every inch. This conversation is too intense and it just makes me want to comfort him all of the ways I know how, naked and with my tongue.
“What doesn’t he have?” he asks, his voice sounding smooth and rich, yet hoarse almost, and it makes me rub my thighs together, just enough to soothe the ache that I’ve had since I got into Jace’s truck. I look over at him and catch him looking over at my legs. He looks away quickly, and I stare at him for a second, trying to read his expression, trying to understand what he is thinking but I can’t.
“Privacy, freedom,” I answer, knowing I have a good point, knowing I’m right. “His life comes at a cost, and you know that better than anyone.” Jace has seen firsthand what happens when someone becomes famous. Finn went from being a normal person with an everyday life to someone that was known by the world. He went from being able to walk down the street, to being recognized instantly, anywhere he went. Jace told me before that it was fun for him at first, but after a while, you just want that privacy back again.
“Yeah, I know,” Jace says as he moves, his head from side to side as if he is letting the thought move around in there. “It’s just annoying that I have to deal with some of the downfalls of being famous without any of the money or respect, ya know?”
“I know. It sucks. But, you know that you could ask Finn for anything. He knows what a pain in the ass his fame has been for you. He’d buy you a sports car if you asked for it,” I say, remembering on several occasions when Finn would offer to buy Jace high ticket items. Finn has never been stingy with his money, especially when his family is concerned. His fame doesn’t just affect him, and he does what he can to acknowledge that. Finn is honestly a good guy, he just got thrown into a weird situation.
“The things I want can’t be bought,” he answers, his voice barely audible. I glance over at him, confused, not understanding what he is talking about anymore.
“What do you mean?” I ask. “What do you want that can’t be bought?” He looks at me, his eyes darting between me and the road, with a small amount of panic inside of them. I stare back, trying to read his gaze for any hint of what is going on. He opens his mouth to speak but closes it, no words escaping. Stopping at a stop sign, his eyes search mine, looking for something, and then dip to my mouth. His tongue wets his bottom lip and my eyes track the movement, completely transfixed by him.
“Nothing, never mind,” he breathes, looking back at the road, his eyes not returning to mine. I can tell by his voice that he isn’t going to bring it up again, that I should just let it go, but I don’t want to. I want to know what he was going to say.
I turn and look out the window, doing my best to let it go, knowing I won’t get answers even if I keep asking. Yet that doesn’t stop my brain from working overtime, half hoping and half forcing myself not to hope.
