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It was almost noon when Millie began stirring beneath the warm confines of my quilt, her long brunette hair stretched across both of my pillows as she buried her face between them.
As if sharing a bed with Amelia wasn't hard enough with my feelings for her, she sure didn't make it easy to keep a safe distance when she sprawled across the mattress in her sleep.
Through the night, Amelia's fingers snaked out and tangled themselves in the sheet that laid across my lower stomach, her leg draped over me so her foot was always touching mine, and the
never-ending mop of hair found my face, no matter how many times I brushed it off.
Even in her drunken slumber, she ensured I was aware of her presence.
I spent most of the early hours fighting the urge to pull her closer.
To press her body completely into mine and tame some of her unconscious urges with me as her body searched for mine every time I shifted too far away.
The bed wasn't big enough for me to go far, but if it had been. Amelia would have found me like she was to my warmth, and I was a burning flame.
Even now, as I watched her gradually stir herself awake, ten elegant digits were spreading across the mattress in search of me and when they came up empty, she gasped a lungful of air, and her eyes
widened with alarm.
In the kitchen, across the other side of my tiny studio, I chuckled at her little panic attack for her safety blanket, and her body noticeably softened at the sound of my voice.
"I'm making coffee and toast if you're hungry," I mention just loud enough for her to hear, and she let out a pained groan as she rolled onto her back.
I could imagine her mind working overtime to replay last night as clearly as possible. It was something she always did recklessly intoxicated. Millie was not sensible about overthinking Millie.
Now sober, Millie went through the stages of regret, knowing that drunk Millie was a naughty little thing that liked to prey on me.
"Yes, please," she murmured as she buried her face in her hands.
I had a cup waiting on the counter when she awoke, needing to fill it upon request.
Pressing the lever down on the toaster, wholemeal bread sunk inside and began to cook.
My breakfast consisted of caramel-infused coffee and vanilla yoghurt.
Which attracted Millie's hungover attention as she stumbled out of bed, crossed the wooden floor and pulled out the stool beside me.
Only then did she jump when the chair's cool metal touched her bare thighs, and it became apparent she was only wearing my baseball shirt and soft lilac-coloured underwear.
"Oh, Jesus. That's cold." She groaned in discomfort, and I smiled.
"You can always sit on my lap," I gestured with a playful smile as I tapped on my thigh invitingly.
I watched as the colour drained from her face in horror, and then it all pooled into her cheeks in a deep crimson blush.
"Ethan," she groaned in an embarrassed tone as she reached out and pulled my bowl of yoghurt towards her.
"Don't blame me for your actions," I reminded her as I brought my spoon to my mouth. If this were my last breakfast scoop, I would eat it.
My lips just left the spoon, and Amelia leaned over and pulled it from my hand.
"Was taking my pants off my idea, too?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"I wanted you to be comfortable. I didn't need all that denim scratching me when you tossed and turned in your sleep," I told Millie honestly, and she made a slight hum.
I watched her digging a small hole into the yoghurt with my spoon. With a satisfied amount, she brought it up to her open mouth, delicately closing her lips around it and slowly pulled it back out,
clean.
I felt myself instinctively swallow and tried to push all thoughts of Millie and her beautiful mouth to the back.
This moment was not the time to fantasise about sensual things.
Last night was the first time Millie and I had shared a bed; although it was entirely innocent, it felt sinful.
It made me wonder if we would have been brave enough to share the same mattress sober.
"Should I worry about any sexual infections on your mattress? I wouldn't catch anything, would I?" Amelia joked with a beautifully crafted smile, and I frowned in response.
"I can promise you my bed is not used for those activities. I'm the only person that sleeps there," I assured her, surprise-filled her facial features.
"You are lying to me," she insisted, and I shook my head.
"I don't- well, you know- there," I stated, and the warmth began filling my face.
Why were we talking about this?
"Never?" She questioned again, and I let out a pained sign. We're discussing this.
"I don't bring anyone home, Millie. If a date went smoothly, we went to her place," I clarified despite my discomfort.
"Always?" She asked, and I nodded.
"Always," I promised, and she hummed at the thought.
I let her stew on my words momentarily, that she was the only woman that ever came here.
Any woman other than her was not necessary. I didn't invite them into my private life and my personal space.
Only Amelia Beckett.
"You're missing out on a lot of fun positions, the bed height and the sturdy framing-" Amelia began in her ever so charming way to deflect from her real emotions.
"Millie. Don't go there, or I will bind you to the bed frame myself," I growled with a warning, and then I realised what I said when Millie's silver eyes studied mine with caution.
Oh fuck, way to go, Ethan.
It was an unspoken rule: We never said sensual things to each other when we were the main characters.
It made the tension between us thick and cut through.
We could have done those things at one stage, but they stayed unspoken for a reason.
"Oh, fuck. Millie, I- " I began to apologise, knowing I had crossed the line.
It was clear her mind absorbed every word; just how she looked intently at me confirmed that she was indeed picturing it, and it wasn't a look of disgust.
It was the same look she gave me when my fingers explored her soft, slick flesh between her thighs.
It was a want I wanted so badly to fill, but without her saying it out loud, we would never go there.
The ringtone on her phone on the kitchen counter made us both jump and after what seemed like the most prolonged moment, Amelia took her eyes off me to see who was calling.
She let a soft sigh and pushed the phone away, not wanting to accept the caller.
"Amelia," I breathed as I glanced at the caller's I.D.
"No, I can't," she told me as she looked away.
Amelia couldn't avoid it forever, although she tried for as long as possible.
"She will call again," I reminded Amelia softly, and she nodded knowingly.
"I know, but she will want me to go home, to go back to that house, and Paul isn't there," Millie murmured in a low voice as she wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to hold together whatever
was coming apart.
"Your parents miss you, Mill's. They lost him too, and I'm sure it's hard on them too," I reminded her, and she frowned.
"This isn't about them, Ethan. It's about me and the things I cannot undo," Amelia growled at me as she stood from her stool.
"Holding onto things you cannot change isn't going to heal anything," I insisted, and she bit her low lip, biting back things she wanted to say.
"Just say it, Amelia. Tell me how I am the one to blame, that I made you kiss me that night," I dared her, and she bawled up her fists to hold herself back further.
"If I had just called Paul to pick me up, he would still be alive. Instead, I called you. I stole your number from his phone days earlier, and I stupidly called you," she yelled, and as her voice
began to break, her body shuttered.
The walls she kept so sturdy inside were as unsteady as her form.
"I am so thankful your little crush on me saved your life," I announced in a low breath.
She was hurting, and I was the only one that knew the pain she was going through.
She lost her brother, and I lost my best friend.
"Fuck you, Ethan" she yelled, and I raised an eyebrow.
"Come here and say it to my face," I dared her confidently and watched as she approached.
So close that her body pressed against mine.
"Fuck you", she growled in a low voice as I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her tightly.
"I'm not going anywhere, Amelia. So hate me if you must, but I won't let you hate yourself for something you cannot change. It's you and me forever. Remember," I reminded her, and she mumbled
something offensive into my chest.
Amelia's body softened against mine when her anger began to fade, and I knew she would be okay with time.
She was grieving everything she missed out on when her brother died.
Amelia's parents didn't handle it well. They kept everything of Paul's where it was when he left.
His room remained untouched across the hall from Millie's childhood bedroom; his old sneakers are by the front door, and his baseball jersey still hangs up on a hook in the dining room, ready to
wear to his next practice game.
I knew Amelia couldn't take any more of it when she packed everything she needed in a backpack and climbed into the front seat of my pickup as I left town.
We both didn't look back in the rearview mirror. There wasn't much to look back at.
My mother was a single parent to an only child and couldn't wait to see me leave so she could turn my room into her gym.
Amelia's parents were so caught up in life without Paul in it that Millie's presence went unnoticed for most of two years.
"I don't want to go back either. There isn't anything there for me, but sometimes we must finish things holding us back to go forward," I murmured into Millie's hair.
"Would you come with me?" Amelia questioned as she glanced up at me, her grey eyes full of worry.
"Of course I would, Mills. I would never let you go alone," I assured her, and she gave me a weak half-smile.
Sometimes, I wondered if her little crush would ever blossom into more. Parts of her still clung to me and the what-ifs, but she still held doubt.
She didn't want to ruin our friendship on a whim.
"Do you mind if I borrow your shower? I can smell the alcohol coming off me," Millie asked, and I hummed in thought.
"I thought that was me. Beer and pizza are a bad combination. Yet, they taste so good together," I told her lightly.
"Perhaps you need a shower too," she confirmed as she leaned in and smelt my white cotton shirt.
I knew this wasn't an invite.
However, it felt like it could be, and I wanted to break the tension in the air.
"I prefer to shower alone; that way, I don't have to share the hot water," I told her, and Millie gave me a soft smile in return.
"Too bad, I would have let you wash my back", Amelia teased as she ran a finger down my chest, letting it trail down the centre of my stomach and stopped at the waistband of my pastel grey track
pants.
I felt air dissolve from my lungs, and my stomach tied itself in knots as my brain pulled every syllable from her sentence apart, scrambled them and tried to put it back together.
I needed to say something back, to brush it off as a playful tease and respond with something witty that would make her solidify her offer, but nothing would come out.
My thoughts rendered me utterly speechless.
Amelia's soft grey eyes glistened as she studied my reaction. She brought her hands around my neck, her fingers intertwined at the base of my hair, and she lifted herself onto the tips of her toes.
"I can feel your erection, Ethan," she whispered, and I felt her warm breath on my lower lip.
If I had any blood left in my brain, I would have been able to talk my way out of my body's reaction to her, but it was all south of my waistband.
My shaft pressed firmly against the lower abdomen of Amelia.
I felt a primal instinct kick in to pick her up and place her on my kitchen counter, so her more petite frame was in line with mine and give in to the sexual urges I felt with her.
Before I could wrap her into my arms and secure her in place, she began retreating as quickly as she came.
With a beautiful spread of her lips into that perfect flirtatious smile I knew, she made her way across my apartment and closed herself off in my bathroom.
The sound of the door closing between us broke the intoxicating spell I fell under, and I was now alone.
Alone, with a solid cock that would make a hooker blush.
"Fuck" I growled under my breath in embarrassment.
"Fucking Millie and her- Fuck", I groaned in discomfort as I ran my hands through my hair anxiously.
Across the room, I heard the shower running, and all I could envision was her bare form under the stream, beads of water rolling down her curves and how much I wanted to feel her under my
fingertips, to feel her muscles soften under my touch.
I crossed the room and gripped the doorknob tightly, my wrist twisted slightly, and the old wooden door softly unlatched from the frame.
What the hell was I doing?
I needed some fresh air to clear my head and remind myself exactly who I played these games with.
I stepped outside on the small balcony leading to my bedroom and leaned against the railing.
Feeling the cool breeze on my flustered skin, I took a deep breath and attempted to untangle my thoughts.
There was no doubt in my mind that I was in love with Amelia.
I didn't want to rush her into anything serious with me as I believed she would get scared and run.
However, deep parts of me longed for her physically, and no matter how often I tried to fill that need, it was never satisfied.
Over the years, I had successfully formed relationships with multiple women to fill the void, but I always returned to that night.
I reminisced about how easy it felt to be with Millie, how her body moulded against mine and how every ounce of my being knew she was all I ever needed.
I wanted to know if she felt that way, but she kept it closely guarded in fear of being hurt or losing me if it didn't work out.
I decided it was time that I blew off some much-needed steam. If Millie could arouse me with a simple touch, I was profoundly overdue for sexual release.
"I used your shampoo. I hope you don't mind," Amelia announced from somewhere in my room.
"That's fine," I told her as I texted a woman interested in casual late-night activities.
"Which drawer do you keep my clothes in?" Millie questioned as I heard her shuffling around in my chest of drawers.
"The bottom" I answered as I glanced over my shoulder to see her standing with her back to me in nothing but a deep blue towel.
"Thank you" she announced as she bent over to open the drawer.
My eyes lingered on her bare legs, the smooth, flawlessly tanned skin, the way her full-figured thighs pressed together and the natural curves of her rear where the towel shifted and exposed the
lower portion of her behind.
God, she was beautiful.
Just like that, my shaft began pressing against the seam of my pants again, and I spent the next ten minutes watching my fifty-year-old neighbour do yoga in his white briefs while I waited for it
to go back down.
"I didn't know you enjoyed old men touching their toes," Millie told me as she became aware of what I was watching in the distance between text messages.
"Keeps me flaccid," I told her honestly, and she hummed in thought.
"I guess now would be a bad time to tell you that I couldn't find any underwear," Amelia muttered, and I groaned.
"Stop fucking with me, Beckett. It's been a while, and you're not making it any easier" I complained truthfully.
"Why don't you get on dating sites and blow off a little steam?" She asked me, and I didn't know if I should tell her I'd already made arrangements.
"I've already lined up a date for tonight," I told her honestly, and I saw a hint of surprise wash over her face.
"Oh. Do I know this woman?" Millie questioned as she looked anywhere but my face.
"No. I met this woman through work," I responded, and I felt guilty for talking about it with her.
"That's good, Ethan. Good for you," she told me with what looked like a forced smile.
"Unless you don't want me to?" I asked gently, and she shook her head no.
"I was hoping we could hang out for a little longer, but it's selfish of me to keep you to myself," she answered, and I pulled her closer.
"I agree, it is selfish," I murmured with a soft laugh.
"Will you have sex with this woman?" She questioned, and I hummed in thought.
"Well, that's the idea" I confessed as I rubbed the back of my neck.
We both knew we had sexual relations with other people, although I didn't understand why she was interested in the details now.
We have always kept our dating life separate and on a personal level.
"Will you wear protection?" She questioned me, and I frowned in confusion.
"Amelia, what is wrong?" I pushed, and she shrugged, not wanting to discuss it, but it was eating her up inside.
"Is this bothering you?" I questioned and Millie let out a soft sigh.
"I'm supposed to be the one going on dates, and I've had no luck," she groaned, making me laugh.
"Millie, you are overthinking this. You're a beautiful woman; any guy would be crazy not to date you. You're just hiding out in my apartment," I confirmed, and although I liked her in my apartment,
it wasn't suitable for our friendship to be this wound up on sexual desire.
"So, unless you plan to fill my sexual needs, I am pursuing on this date tonight. I suggest you do the same," I stated, and after some thought, Millie agreed.
"That's a perfect idea, Ethan. Let's double date," she suggested in an uplifting tone, and I inwardly groaned.
Was it too late to bind her to my bed and take what I wanted from her?
"You can set me up with one of your guy friends, and we can go together. I have to go home and get ready, pick me up seven" Amelia instructed as she searched my bedroom for her shoes where she had
kicked them off the day before.
My lips couldn't form the words of how bad of an idea this was before she ran out of my apartment, slipping into the driver's seat of her small car in my driveway and speeding down my street.
Submitted: September 07, 2023
© Copyright 2023 A.Green. All rights reserved.
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Comments
I'll reiterate that your time frame needs to be two years max from heavy petting in the pickup to now and then move on.
I also think it's a bit crazy for two good looking young people to both be completely single. At least one would be in some sort of relationship. Probably both. Charlie Sheen is the only guy I'm aware of that lives like this.
Being attached to other people doesn't preclude the characters' desire for one another. I sort of get Amelia's 'high' standards for dates, since she's comparing them the Ethan. Ethan may be doing the same, and you can say as much in your narration. Having them attached to other people would not only be more realistic, it would further complicate your plot.
I love the 'double date' idea. Again, Ethan doesn't have to be texting up a stranger, and that would make the date even more interesting.
The strength of your story is depth and the emotional conflict. I can certainly see alcohol playing a role for Amelia letting down her guard and showing Ethan just how she feels.
It's a bit forward of Ethan to undress Amelia and then go to bed with her if his intentions are to keep this 'friendly'. He'd be more likely to sleep on the couch initially and have her come in the den to coax him into the bedroom.
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