Page 12 of Double Dirty

Rafe stroked my hair, kissed my cheek again. I melted under the simple, platonic gesture, like I was some waif starved for affection. Except I wasn’t a waif. I was a woman. A woman with inappropriate horny thoughts about her best friends. Both of them. And if Rafe didn’t stop kissing my wounds tenderly, I was going to run screaming into the bathroom and barricade myself in there. He lay down on his side facing me, beckoned me to join him. I kept six inches between us on the bed, propped my head up on my hand. He touched my face, trailed his fingers down my neck so carefully and softly I thought I might moan. His hand rolled across my shoulder and down my arm. He took my hand in his and kissed it.

“We’re here for you if you need us. I just want you to know that. Now get some rest. You don’t have to give us an answer now. Do you want me to stay with you until you go to sleep?”

A tear seeped out of the corner of my eye against my will. He brushed it away with his thumb. The ache in my chest opened up, the feeling of being wanted and cherished just gutting me. I put a hand over my mouth and stifled a sob. He pulled me into his arms like I had known he would. His arms were the safest thing I’d ever known. I’d never be able to resist that, the dangerous sensation of being cared for and wanted by either or both of these men.

“Ok,” I whispered, “I’ll stay. But you have to promise to kick me out if I stay too long or become a nuisance.”

“Never,” he said, “Leo gets on my nerves all the time, and I let him stay. You can sleep here tonight, and we’ll get a lock on that door and your stuff moved in tomorrow. I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s big and comfy.”

“No, I’m not kicking you out of your bed. You can sleep in here. I’ll take the couch,” I insisted, my eyes drifting shut as I leaned against him.

I promised myself as I fell asleep that I’d never do anything to hurt them. That I wouldn’t let a hint of my attraction spill out to cause trouble. They were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I would walk through fire before I came between them. I valued their friendship with me and with one another too deeply to ever risk that.

6

Rafe

She hadn’t lived with us for three weeks before I noticed that we were all staying home every night. Lexi had picked up Thai food after work. We ate it on the sectional in front of some stupid reality show she had us watching. We passed the cartons back and forth comfortably, eating out of each other’s containers. Her bare feet were on my leg. I set my carton down and rubbed her foot, massaging her slim ankle and under her heel until I felt the tension drain out of her. “Mmm,” she said, “that’s even better than these noodles. But now you have to go wash your hands because you touched my foot.” She wrinkled her nose. It was pretty damn cute.

I was so tempted to take her foot in my hands, raise it to my face and lick the arch in one luxuriant stroke just to feel her shiver. She would. A shudder would go through her whole body. I knew how sensitive she was to touch, how starved she was for it. Sometimes I had trouble not crossing that line. I wanted to make her feel good. At night I’d hear her get up to get a drink of water or something and have to make myself stay in my room. If I got up and found her inthe kitchen in some little white scrap of a nightgown—my palms itched with the thought of taking her in my hands and making her moan.

“When was the last time you went out, Leo?” I asked him as he stole a noodle from Lexi’s carton.

“I went out last Tuesday night with the guys at work. How about you?”

I shrugged, “Penny came by and asked me out this morning.”

“Who’s Penny?” Lexi said around a mouthful of noodles. “Do I need to set a place for her tomorrow night?”

“Nah. I told her we were making dinner. It was our Thursday thing.”

“Since when do we have a Thursday thing? Is it like our family tradition?” Leo teased.

“It’s my week to cook. You’re in charge of salad, Lexi’s doing dessert. Remember?”

“I remember she cooked for us the first week she lived here. God almighty, I haven’t had a roast like that since my abuela passed away. Where’d you learn to cook like that anyway?”

“Group home,” Lexi said. “We cooked on a rotating schedule. I had read in some magazine that one of the workers left there about a traditional family Sunday dinner. I figured none of us ever had that, so I always made Yankee pot roast. It was a nice change from the casserole with chips on top that most of them cooked. I liked to save recipes from the magazines I ran across.

“How long did you live in a group home?” I asked her.

“Six years. People only want to foster little cute kids. It’s hard to convince somebody that they should take in a teenager, especially when we’ve all had to struggle to survive and that creates some habits that are—not adorable,”she rolled her eyes. “So being a social worker, it’s a good fit for me because I can sort of coach up the kids on expected behaviors and explain to the families what they may be dealing with. I think of it like being a translator almost. Helping them understand each other.”

I hated to think of her feeling unwanted, of her combing through old magazines for some kind of food that would make them all feel like they had a family for one night. I scooped her up into a hug, noodles and all and she laughed.

“Wait till you taste the dessert I’ve got planned for tomorrow night. There’d be plenty for Penny if you want to invite her. I’m going to do this chocolate pudding with layers of Oreos and whipped cream in it. Girls love that stuff. You might get lucky,” she teased.

“Oh, with Penny, getting lucky is a sure thing,” Leo said. “Those two have been on and off for about a year. Mostly off, but she shows up here for breakfast every once in a while.”

“Shut up,” I muttered. I didn’t want Lexi thinking about me with Penny. Not that I thought Lexi had sexual thoughts about me or Leo. Just because I didn’t want her to have to consider finding some strange woman in the house one morning.

“Come to think of it, she hasn’t been around for a few months. Are you giving up on casual sex, bro?” Leo asked.

“Penny and I had fun for a while,” I said. “But it was never going to be long term.” I hoped that would explain enough of it, enough of the fact that when I was given the choice, I’d rather eat pot roast with my roommates than hook up with Penny again. I had a woman in my life, even if it was platonic, and it would feel weird to go out with some girl, have sex with some girl with Lexi in the next room.

“Don’t tell me you dumped her because of me. I do notwant to cock-block either of you. Just say the word and I’ll go to the library or stay in my room or something,” Lexi said.

She was cool about it. That just made it harder. Harder was a word that gave me problems—as in the more she draped her legs across my lap or hid her face in my shoulder during a scary movie, the harder I got.