Page 6 of Ripe & Ready (Friction Fiction #1)

I ’m exhausted.

I flew halfway across the world, woke up at the crack of dawn, watched gorillas eat bugs off each other, visited a tiny village in the middle of the Congo, and accidentally told my best friend I love him.

This place doesn’t mess around.

My body hurts, my brain’s barely functioning, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been sweating nonstop since the airport. But Derek? Derek’s still going. Still cheerful. Still acting like I didn’t unload a full emotional confession in the middle of an African supermarket.

He’s flipping through photos on his phone, humming to himself, completely unfazed. Meanwhile, I’m over here in the corner trying to remember how to exist.

Jesus Fuck. I just remembered there’s still only one bed.

Right as we reach the door to our cabin, Derek spins around, phone in hand.

“I forgot to show you this.”

It’s a photo of me. Caught in profile, staring up at Calliope, and the look on my face? God. I barely recognize it.

In the moment, I remember feeling anxious. Nervous. Unsteady. But in the photo, I look calm. Curious. Like I belong. Like I’m not waiting for the ground to give out beneath me.

“I love this one,” Derek says.

He hands me the phone and turns to unlock the door. I stay frozen for a second, eyes on the screen, the weight of it hitting me in full.

Maybe it’s the mess of feelings I’ve been carrying, but this doesn’t feel random. This isn’t just a picture. It’s the kind of photo that only someone who really sees you can take. Someone who knows what matters. Someone who knows you.

Suddenly his reaction back at the market doesn’t feel like dismissal at all. It’s insane to think, but it’s possible love doesn’t have to be a grand gesture or a big dramatic moment. Maybe it really is that easy between us.

Looking at the photo he quietly snapped when I wasn’t paying attention and seeing myself calm and content and seen in that way, I feel something I don’t usually let myself feel.

Brave.

Braver than I’ve ever felt, maybe. I let that carry me forward, across the wood plank walkway and through the door to our room. I shut it behind me with a soft click, and before I can stop myself, I let it go.

“I meant what I said.”

Derek shrugs off his shirt, muscles on full display, and drops it with a raised eyebrow.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” he laughs. “You’ve said a lot today.”

Fuck him.

Fuck him for being easy. For being sweet. For tossing out lines like that. Half tease, half truth that somehow still manage to make me tingle all over like I’m hearing a love song for the first time.

I’m losing my resolve, second-guessing everything, wondering if I’m about to make a complete fool of myself.

He slides off his shoes and ambles toward me, eyes searching.

“Spit it out, Andy.”

I swallow. “In the village… I said I love you and I guess I need you to know I meant it.”

He looks at me with a calm so complete it feels like a wall.

I start to panic. “Obviously I appreciate you, and I’m glad you’re my friend, and you make me feel... weirdly good just by being near me, which is honestly kind of rude, because some of us are trying to function like normal people.”

I huff out a nervous laugh, but it’s thin.

“But it’s also… it’s more than that. Like, I wanna kiss you. I wanna wake up next to you. I wanna see if there’s a version of this where I’m not quietly pining from the sidelines like some tragic gay background character.”

My throat tightens. My voice is wobbling now.

“I’ve always felt like I’m a few steps behind you, trailing after you like an idiot and I thought that maybe someday I’d catch up but I worry that if I don’t say something now you’re gonna find some adventure that’s far more exciting than me, so I have to tell you?—”

The look he gives me shuts me up instantly.

It’s all comfort and sunshine, warm enough to reach somewhere deep in my chest and maybe anyone could give me a smile like that. Some people are naturally bright, but when it’s him? It undoes me. Every time.

“What?” I snap, too fast, already spiraling. “I’m pouring my heart out and you don’t have anything to say?”

Because of course I can’t accept the smile like a normal person. No, I have to go full defense mode, questioning everything even when the answer is right in front of me.

He scoffs. Shakes his head. “I’ve been waiting on you, dummy.”

Then he kisses me.

Slow. Certain. His arms wrap around my neck and I gasp into him, breath hitching as every nerve lights up at once.

“All this time,” I whisper against his lips.

He pulls back enough to look at me in that way only he can manage when I’m clearly coming apart. His expression softens, and suddenly it’s obvious. The love was never hiding. I wasn’t ready to face it.

“I didn’t want to rush you,” he says, voice low. “I figured if you felt the same you’d come to me when you were ready.”

“Derek, that could’ve taken years.”

He shrugs, effortless as ever. “You’re worth the wait.”

So I crash into him. Mouth on his. Heart on fire hoping to convey that I’m ready now and his patience was worth it.

I push him back toward the bed, this man who loved me so much he let me find my own way to him when I felt fearless enough to do it.

“Feelin’ aggressive there, Andy?” Derek laughs as I toss him back onto the bed.

“Well, apparently I’ve spent the last decade too scared to take advantage of something we should’ve been doing a long time ago,” I say, climbing on top of him. “I’ve got lost time to make up for.”

He barks out a laugh. “We’ve got time now. Plenty of it. Now that we know.”

“This feels too good to be true,” I mutter, searching his face. “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve known you for fifteen years. If I was gonna leave, I’d have done it already.”

That hits me harder than it should. “What if we don’t work?”

“Then I guess we figure it out.”

I blink. “Why is this so easy for you?”

He shrugs under me. “Because life’s already hard enough. I’m not gonna waste time overthinking something that feels simple.”

I groan and push him flat, his head hitting the pillow as I lower myself onto him, knees on either side of his hips, my ass brushing against his cock, already hard and straining at his zipper.

“You cannot say things like that,” I whisper, mouth inches from his.

“Why not?” he manages between kisses, breath catching.

“Because it makes me love you more.”

He grins, eyes half-lidded. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, already wrecked, as I pull away from his mouth and start kissing down his chest completely drunk on the taste of his skin.

“I probably stink,” he says, breathless. “Don’t you think we should shower?”

A wince slips out as my eyes flick up to meet his. He’s not wrong.

There’s literal dirt smudged across his jaw. We’ve been hiking through the jungle all day, sweating like sinners, and I don’t even want to think about what kind of musky nightmare I might unleash if I actually follow through on my current plan, which is to choke on his dick like it’s my last meal.

I read a lot of romance books and when the time comes they always dive right in. They get to business no matter how filthy the setting. And honestly? Sometimes the setting is absolutely telling you that dick stinks.

I sigh. “You’re right.”

“We can keep going in there, though.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “Let me… ya know, freshen up before your mouth is on me. I’m sure you’d want to do the same if I’m gonna eat your ass.”

I blink. “I… okay, that’s fair.”

“Exactly.” He kisses my cheek and hops up, rolling off the bed. “This is what mutual respect looks like.”

Hard to argue with that.

“Besides,” he adds, tugging off his pants, “after listening to you jerk off in the bathroom this morning, I’ve got a lot of pent-up energy to burn.”

My face goes up in flames, but he smiles as he pushes down his black briefs. He pauses on purpose. He knows I’m watching and he’s absolutely milking it.

Every shift of his body is calm and controlled. He kicks his briefs aside and stretches like he’s warming up for a workout, not standing naked in front of his best friend who happens to be visibly flustered and very much trying not to drool.

He’s gorgeous. All lean muscle and long limbs, that runner’s build that doesn’t scream gym rat so much as I do this for fun. His cock is already hard, bobbing slightly with each movement, resting in a neatly trimmed patch of dark hair.

His skin is golden, deepened by the sun, but the second my eyes trail lower, I see a distinct shift in tone around his hips, paler skin where a speedo has clearly done its job. His briefs tan is... pronounced.

Apparently that’s a kink I didn’t know I had until right now.

“You’re the worst,” I mutter, eyes refusing to look away.

There’s that grin again. Mischief wrapped in affection. “And yet, you’re still staring.”

Touché.

“You coming?” he throws back and it’s a dare and an invitation all at once, then he turns and heads to the bathroom his ass on full, devastating display.

Perfectly round. Fully unfair.

Yeah. I’m coming.

Probably twice.

More if I can help it.

I follow suit, stripping my clothes and trotting along after him.

For being, technically, a hut, it’s still the fanciest hut I’ve ever seen.

The shower is open air, with no roof overhead and a view that stretches into the trees. A lattice of thick stalks lines the perimeter, forming a natural screen between us and the rest of the jungle. It’s private, but only just. The air is warm, the sounds of the forest loud and alive all around us.

There’s a single rainfall shower head hanging from a wooden pipe overhead, dripping warm water onto a polished hardwood floor that slopes down toward the edge of the platform, letting everything drain right into the jungle.

Which feels both extremely cool and like a very real bug hazard, but sure. Vibes.