“What’s that mean? Is that what’s been wrong with you?”
“Other than you standing me up?”
“Fuck me, woman. I’m sorry, okay?” I sighed and dropped my hands from the wall, giving her some space. “You told me something was wrong. Tell me what it is.”
“It’s nothing. We’ll get through it. I’ll make sure we do. We aren’t clicking like we’re supposed to.” She combed her fingers through her dark hair, and I tried not to imagine how soft it would feel gripping it. “He thinks I work too much; I think he doesn’t work enough. He wanted me to stay home tonight and I was going to.”
I nodded, not giving a shit. I hated her boyfriend like most everyone who knew him. He was riding her coattails and they were getting tired. I just couldn’t tell her that. “You’ll figure it out.”
“Will we?” She questioned and then lowered her voice. “I even dressed in lingerie for him earlier today, Jay.”
I tilted my head. Mikka and I didn’t ever discuss that much of her life, probably because I avoided it like the damn plague. I didn’t need to think about her like that. I didn’t want to. Not anymore. Not after she put me in the strict friend zone.
She rubbed a palm over her face. “I know, TMI. TMI. TMI. But I’m just drunk enough to admit how embarrassing it is to dress up for your boyfriend only for him to laugh at your attempt. He laughed and said I better just get the work clothes back on and go. He was already playing videogames.”
“He passed on you in lingerie?”
She shrugged like it was nothing, but I wanted to immediately punch her boyfriend in the face. “Are you still wearing the lingerie under that sweater?”
“Are you kidding me?” She rolled her eyes at me, but the smirk made it worth it.
“Meek, sending you on your way with a guilt trip instead of sleeping with you is pretty messed up.”
“Right?” She practically screamed and waved her hand in front of me. “I can’t believe I always fall for it too. Every single time. And as I’m walking out the door, he grumbles for me to have fun at my joke of a job. Although, in his defense, this is a joke of a job right now. I’m sitting here drinking my body weight…”
“Oh, cut the shit.” I ground out. “He’s being a dick. The guilt trip only goes so far. He could have fucked you sideways and had a good night. He wanted to have a bad one instead and we both know it.”
She smiled and rubbed my shoulder. “Thank you for that.”
“For what?”
“For being a good friend even while high and drunk and after ditching me earlier.”
The problem with Mikka and me, I wasn’t just her friend. She didn’t get that. I was her actor, I was her sounding board, I was her go to.
And she was mine. She was the tool I used for everything in LA. She got me movie deals, she got me out of sticky situations, she had even helped me bed one or two girls on the rare occasion that I needed her to talk me up.
She did everything for me.
She was my path, my avenue, my road to hell and back.
And in that moment as I listened to her bitch about her boyfriend and as I looked at everything I wanted in front of me that I couldn’t have, I felt the wrecking ball of pain and jealousy crash right into me.
So, I used her as my go to again. This time though it was to deliver my own self destruction.
I took what I’d wanted for a long time.
I grabbed her small waist, pulled her up against my chest, my abs, my dick. I plastered her to me.
And then I kissed her.
I tasted every inch of her mouth, sucked on her bottom lip, and took my time brushing my tongue over hers. It was intentional the way I ran my fingers over her hips like I was memorizing her. I knew this would be the first and last time she’d let me take what wasn’t mine.
She gasped and then she melted into me like we fit together, like she was made for me and I was made for her.
The world spun faster, the music beat even louder, but the light faded. Everything went black and I knew that wasn’t the cocaine or the alcohol. That was my pebble: solid, bold, and soul-crushing, pushing away everything else in my life and making it crystal clear who was the only one worthy of standing before me.
Then she shoved me away. “What in the ever-living fuck are you doing, Jaydon?” She yelled at me, fear in her eyes. Fear of having felt what I just did or fear of having to deal with my shit in the morning?