Page 25 of The Absence of You
I unlocked the door and she followed me upstairs to my room. I collected a few warm towels from the closet on the landing on our way past. When we got to my bedroom, we stopped and looked at each other, both so drenched we looked like we’d been swimming in our clothes. Dahlia’s hair was so much darker when it was wet, and it was plastered to her face. My eyes ran down her body to her white t-shirt that was now virtually see through, her dark lacy bra clearly showing through the thin fabric. My dick hardened uncomfortably against the wet fabric of my jeans. I cleared my throat and angled my body away slightly, hoping she wouldn’t notice my obvious physical reaction.
She must have noticed my gaze as pink blooms appeared on her cheeks. A small drip of water ran down her forehead and onto her nose and she sneezed. Small goosebumps appeared on her arms and despite the warmth of my room, she shivered. Shit, she’ll end up sick if she doesn’t get dry.
“Do you want to use my bathroom, and I’ll get changed in here?” She nodded, so I handed her a couple of the towels and dug out an old hoodie and a pair of my joggers that no longer fit for her to change into. She took them gratefully and headed into the bathroom, shutting the door after herself. I got myself dried quickly, trying not to think about her peeling her wet clothes off behind that door. About what she might look like standing in my shower.
Things had changed for me this summer. I had no idea it was possible there could even be more to a friendship. She had always been my best friend, but now it was like I was experiencing everything in 3D. Whenever she smiled, or laughed, or even looked at me, I felt different. My skin felt tighter. Shit, my pants felt tighter, but I really had no idea whether things had changed for her, too. Sometimes I caught her checking me out. At least I thought she was, but whenever I tried to catch her eye, she’d blush and turn away.
Some girls at school had started showing an interest in me. They were so obvious, batting their eyes at me, touching my arm. A couple had even asked me out, but I wasn’t into any of them. But with Dahlia, despite me knowing her better than I knew anyone else, I just couldn’t get a read on her feelings about me, and it was driving me crazy.
After dressing and running a towel through my hair, I headed downstairs to make us both a hot chocolate, trying to distract myself from my inappropriate thoughts about my best friend.
I was just adding some squirty cream when she padded into the kitchen barefoot.
“I wondered where you’d got to.” She sat on one of the stools next to the kitchen island, and I carried our drinks over to her. Any hope of distracting myself was firmly out of the window as I took in the sight of Dahlia wearing my clothes. I was quite a bit taller than her so they drowned her, but shit, she looked good. Something about seeing her dressed head to foot in my stuff makes my dick instantly hard again. I seem to have absolutely no control of it around her.
“So are you ready to grant me my wish?” I asked her, cocking my brow.
“Erm, well, considering I won the race home, I should be asking you that question,” she retorted smugly.
“Nah, I beat you. I slowed down for you to catch up, remember?”
“Exactly, you slowed down. I caught up. So, I won.” She has a good point.
“Okay, I’ll concede that maybe it was a draw.” I leant over the island towards her. “So we need to find another way to decide the winner…” I put my elbow on the table and wiggled my fingers. “Arm wrestle for the win?”
Her eyes lit up, never one to back away from a challenge. She clasped my hand and immediately tried to push my arm sideways. I tensed. She was stronger than she looked. I squeezed her hand tighter, pushing against her. Her brow furrowed. She was really trying now. So cute that she thought she had a chance of beating me. If she could move my arm with will alone, I have no doubt she’d already have won. I held our arms in the middle, neither of us gaining any ground, knowing I could easily overpower her if I wanted to right now. Only I didn’t want to. I didn’t care who won and got the wish. I just wanted to keep touching her.
GRAYSON - PRESENT
I zone out to what Meghan is saying as I watch Maxwell unzip his hoodie and drape it over Dahlia’s shoulders. She pushes her arms through and pulls it around herself. I know it doesn’t mean anything other than she’s cold, but it pisses me the fuck off seeing her in some other guy’s clothes. Why the hell did I agree to play this stupid game?
“New Girl. You can go first. Truth or dare?”
“Truth.” My thoughts are interrupted by Dahlia’s soft voice. I look up to see everyone waiting to hear what truth Meghan is going to ask of Dahlia. She pauses for a minute before asking her,
“Have you ever been in love?” I take a long gulp of my beer, so it isn’t obvious I care about her answer. Dahlia’s eyes connect with mine for a split second before she looks away. She seems to be warring with herself about whether to answer.
“Yes.” She eventually replies. I let out a long breath. Fuck. She really has moved on. I wonder what the bastard looks like, if he knows how lucky he is to have a girl like Dahlia love him? Does he treat her right?
Her answer holds no detail, but it’s enough to make me want to hunt down the fucker she’s given her heart to and rip his throat out while he sleeps. Just the thought of some guy touching her makes me feel red hot rage.
Damn it, I’m being hypocritical. It’s not like I’ve been living the life of a priest. I was with Charlotte. For a few years. But… I never loved her. Not even close. Love is something else entirely.
There was a time that I thought I’d be Dahlia’s first. First kiss. First love. First everything, and the realisation they belong to someone else? It fucking guts me.
“Grayson, your turn.” I bring my focus back to Meghan.
“Dare.” I state, trying to appear unaffected by this juvenile game.
“I dare you to kiss the person you find most attractive around this circle,” said Meghan, a sly smile on her face. Charlotte, oblivious to Meghan’s shit stirring, pouts confidently next to me. Still reeling from Dahlia’s answer, I turn to Charlotte and kiss her quickly. I keep my eyes down and reach for my beer to take another gulp. I’m careful not to look up in case anyone sees the lie that I’m sure is written across my face.
“Charlotte, your turn.”
“Truth.” She replies.
“Favourite sexual position?” Meghan asks, as Charlotte laces her fingers through mine.
“Reverse cowgirl.” Cheers ripple around the circle. “Or maybe that’s Grayson’s favourite position? I can never remember.” She shrugs, giggling. My gaze snaps to Dahlia, hoping to see… I don’t know what? Hurt, jealousy even? But she is looking anywhere but at me. Asher slaps me on the shoulder, but all I can do is watch as Dahlia pulls Maxwell’s hoodie tighter around herself. Maxwell leans in to say something to her, resting his hand on her knee and her cheeks blush red. Asher slaps me on the shoulder again.
