Danny raced around her bed, grabbed her gold earrings, and tried with great difficulty to put them on. “Max,” she called.
“Yeah,” he called back from the kitchen.
“Have you seen my black sandals? I can’t find them anywhere.”
Max lowered the heat of the stove and walked to her bedroom where she was rummaging through her cupboard. He couldn’t see her, but he did see flying tops, shoes and belts.
“I think I saw them in the—”
She stepped out from behind the cupboard and suddenly the words he was about to say disappeared. The little black number she chose to wear hung loosely over chest but ever so tight over her legs; hugging her hips, her waist.
Now when did that happen? She never had hips or an ass. She never had…curves. Maybe he was imagining things. He blinked twice.
Nope. Those curves were every bit as real as they were a second ago. His home-cooked meals had certainly filled her out in all the right places. Note to self. Strictly salads from now on.
“Hello? Anyone in there?” She waited for him to lift his wandering eyes to meet hers before she continued. “You were saying?”
“Uh…yeah…I think… I…uh…saw…” He looked away when he noticed that he was stuttering like an idiot. “Living… uh…yeah, living room…right next to…the c-coffee table.”
Quizzical eyebrows lifted his way. “Thanks.” She turned around, grasped her hair, and pulled it to the front of one shoulder. “Can you zip me up?”
Oh, yeah. Of course that would happen. How else would he know that God didn’t love him? The day she decides to wear the sexiest dress ever made just had to be the day that she wanted him to zip her up.
He felt the stirrings beneath his jeans and took a deep breath to subdue it. Taking hold of the zipper, he slowly pulled it up, his fingers gliding against the smooth skin of her back as he did so. He tried to swallow the nervous lump in his throat. “All done.”
She turned around and he had to step back before he did something stupid. She walked to the mirror and began applying her make-up. She generally didn’t wear make-up. And it was a Tuesday night. She never went out on a week night. What was the occasion? She hadn’t mentioned anything to him.
She fluffed her long, dark brown hair and turned around.
Fuck!
She was hot!
Her hair was bouncy enough to give her a just shagged look, but not so much to look untidy and the gold jewelry she adorned herself with made her caramel skin look extra soft, like Egyptian cotton kind of soft.
She pressed the dress against herself as she turned to get a side profile of herself. “Does this dress make my boobs look small?” she asked, pulling it tighter over her chest.
Oh, jeez! Like the tight dress and newly developed ass weren’t enough, he had to entertain questions like these. It was official. God didn’t love him.
This was the worst part about being the best friend. She would ask him questions like that and expect it not to affect him. She needed a reality check. He was in fact a hot-blooded, straight man who happened to like breasts and thighs and tight black dresses. And now, due to her well thought out question, he was forced to look at those perky little buds. She wasn’t the most well-endowed woman. Actually her breasts were rather small, but they were perfect.
The designer of that horrid dress had seemingly taken a lesson in less is more. Less material, more torture for poor, defenseless roommate. There was a huge V missing from the top half that exposed a generous amount of her cleavage yet still managed to leave enough to the imagination. And he was definitely imagining, imagining his hands running up her thighs, imagining how much better that dress would look on his bedroom floor. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. The troops were going to start heading south if he didn’t stop imagining things.
“Your…uh…your breasts…” He looked away from fear of losing his sanity. “Your breasts are…amazing,” he whispered.
Danny stopped admiring herself and abruptly turned to face him. She looked fairly shocked. A slight flush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks. Her gaze locked on his for a few seconds, and for those few seconds it seemed like the world stopped spinning.
“Oh, shit! I’m so late,” she said as she whizzed out of the room.
What a way to piss on the mood, Max thought. “Where are you going?”
“On a date,” she called from the living room.
He checked that his temporary negligence had not caused the food to burn, then walked to the living room. He found her sitting on the edge of the sofa, pulling on her black stiletto sandals and then without warning, she stood up and began tossing the throw cushions off the sofa. “Where is it?”
“Slow down. What are you looking for?”
“My cell phone. I know I left it in here.”
“No, you didn’t. It’s in the kitchen.”
She bent over and hurriedly picked up the discarded pillows, tossing them back onto the sofa; the short, black dress riding up further as she did so. God, she had great legs, the type of legs that he couldn’t help but wonder how they would feel wrapped around his waist.
Oh, damn! The troops were on the move again. He shut his eyes and tried to think of something mundane. Butterflies and daisies! Butterflies and daisies!
Exhaling a steady breath, he opened his eyes just in time to see her rush into the kitchen on unsteady heels.
“So who are you going on this big date with anyway?”
“With Richard, of course.”
“Oh,” was all he said, not even attempting to disguise the disappointment in his voice.
Danny stepped out of the kitchen and dropped her cell phone into her purse. “Max, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” he replied before the question had fully left her mouth. He lowered his head, slowly nipping his bottom lip. “It’s nothing.”
“I know you for six years, Max, and I know that every time you bite your lip, you’re lying. So what’s up?”
“It’s nothing, really…” The warning look she shot him told him that it was better to tell the truth than ignite her violent streak. “It’s just…I made your favorite, you know. Your meeting…it went well…and I just…I just thought we’d…” He pulled his lips in. “Just forget it.”
Her face flinched as if she was upset with herself. “I’m really sorry, Max, but I have to go. I’m dying to see Richard and I don’t know how long he’s going to be in town.”
“You don’t have to go, Danny. The guy rotates you on his schedule. He just snaps his fingers and you go rushing off to him.”
“That’s not true. I had the same conversation with Lauren a few days ago. Why can’t you guys give him a break? You know Richard does his best. He just has a really demanding job.”
“Oh, his job?” Max asked sardonically. “Tell me something, Danny. You’ve been living with me for almost three weeks and does Richard even know about it?”
She slowly shook her head.
“No. Of course, he doesn’t. And do you wanna know why? Because you haven’t even heard from him in over a month!”
He was shouting now, his temper threatening to spiral out of control.
“Okay, Max,” she said calmly. “I don’t wanna fight about this again. I’m really sorry about dinner, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
He tried his hardest not to sneer. A trail of broken promises always preceded a date with Richard. Charlie’s words came back to bite him. She was never going to see him as anything more than a friend. She had a choice right now to either spend the evening with him or with Richard and it had taken her not even a nanosecond to make that choice, the wrong choice. He did make her his whole world, which always made moments like this harder to endure.
He gritted his teeth and forced a smile. “Okay. You two have fun.”
“I will,” she responded softly. “I won’t be too late.” She walked towards him and kissed him on the cheek. His hand moved around her waist onto the small of her back. He heard her inhale a deep breath, but then she quickly pulled away and glanced at him awkwardly.
“I am sorry, Max,” she whispered.
He simply nodded, silently letting her know that it was okay but it wasn’t really okay. Nodding back, she slowly began walking to the door. He grabbed her wrist and she turned to face him again.
“You…uh…” Searching for courage, he broke eye contact for a moment or two before he looked at her again. “You look really pretty tonight.”
A shy smile curved on her lips and she glanced at the floor to hide her flushed cheeks. “Thank you.” She remained frozen even after he released her wrist. “I’ll see you later.” And with that she made a hasty escape from the apartment.
Max watched her close the door and slumped back against the wall. He hit his head against it, trying to rid himself of his thoughts. Why couldn’t he just forget? Why couldn’t he just wake up one morning and forget everything he felt for her? It would make life so much easier. It would make the ache he was feeling in his chest right now a whole lot less painful.
If he could just forget about the happiness he felt every time he saw her smile, he could simultaneously forget about how much it hurt every time Richard made her cry. If he could just forget about how good her lips felt against his cheek, he could forget about the grating jealousy he felt knowing that those lips would be pressed against Richard’s before the end of the night. If he could just forget about the fact that he was so completely in love with her, he could forget about the lump that formed in his throat every time she claimed to love a man who wasn’t worthy of that love. If he could just forget about the dreams of them becoming more than friends, he could forget the pain of knowing that those dreams would never come true.