A Iss Between Friends

His arms were tight around me and I held him close, my eyes closed and my face buried in his neck. We stood motionless, and time slipped away. The only sound I was aware of was the rhythmic beating of his heart. I could feel it against my chest as surely as he could feel mine. It was always like this, and I'm always too content at the time to go further. Afterwards I scold myself and dwell for hours as to why I didn't make a move. Then, in frustration, I wonder what it is that is holding him back.

I opened my eyes and lifted my face from his neck so I could look at his face. As always, his expression was warm and his smile put butterflies in my stomach. My heart began to pound uncontrollably and I knew he was as aware of it as I was but I tried to refrain from being embarrassed. Instead, I studied his expression. His eyes were locked into mine and his smile lit up his face. He was looking at me as if he loved me. He loves you, I told myself. He really loves you. I reached up with my right hand to pet the side of his face. Leaning into my hand, he sighed and closed his eyes. I told myself to kiss him. Do it, I prompted. He won't mind. A tranquil feeling enveloped me and I suddenly wasn't nervous anymore. I lifted my mouth to his and my heart didn't even skip a beat.

"I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. I can see all obstacles in my way. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind. It's gonna be a bright, bright sun-shiny day." The alarm on my phone sang, startling me out of my perfect dream. Startled, I opened my eyes, but then I closed them tightly, willing myself to go back to sleep and pick up from where I left off. The phone continued to sing and I buried my face into my soft pillow and groaned. As I blindly fumbled for my phone and turned the alarm off, I wondered why I didn't have the dream a few minutes sooner. I kicked myself for setting the alarm for six o'clock instead of a quarter after. Hell, I might have gone all the way with him if I'd had an extra fifteen minutes! That almost-kiss was going to be on my mind all day and I knew I would dwell on it to the point of near insanity. That was enough to inhibit a bright, sun-shiny day.

I went through the motions of the morning in a haze and it took me longer than usual to get ready. The dream played in my mind in the shower and I began to fantasize about him as I lathered myself with vanilla scented body wash. I began to imagine it was him getting me soapy while simultaneously replaying the dream in my mind. Sweet, innocent love mixed with my imaginary shower partner made my clitoris throb. I didn't really have time to relieve myself but I was too hot and bothered to ignore my desires. Normally when I pleasured myself while I bathed, I used the shower head and set it to high pressure mode. That gave me mind blowing orgasms. I weighed my choices. I could grab the shower head and use on myself, I could use my fingers or I could ignore the feeling between my legs. "Fuck it," I muttered, and I began to finger myself. As the hot water pounded on my body, I saw him naked in my mind, his cock erect and waiting for me. Soon he was on top of me and I rubbed my clitoris in time to his humping. I let out a huge gasp as my body shook when I climaxed. It had been too rushed to be considered a great orgasm, but it did feel good. I was able to concentrate and I no longer felt tense and I knew I made the right choice. Besides, I was a firm believer that life is too short to pass up a good orgasm.

Because of the delay in the shower, I only had time to down a cup of coffee before work. I grabbed a banana to eat on the way. I got into my silver Dodge Ram 2500, turned it on and the engine roared to life. Gosh I loved my truck. It was only a year old and it looked exactly the way it did the first day I brought it home. My previous vehicle had been a tiny car and I couldn't see a damn thing besides the rear end of the car in front of me. Now with my truck, I felt as if I were on top of the world.

Led Zeppelin was blasting so loud that I couldn't hear the rumble of the engine, and I did it on purpose. Music distracted me from being distracted from him. It was peaceful to have nothing in my head but a well loved song. I cheerfully sang "Whole Lotta Love" along with Robert Plant, keeping my voice slightly lower than his so I wouldn't ruin the song too much. I'm a horrible singer and I wouldn't be caught dead singing in front of a person, but when I drove alone I sang my heart out and nearly forgot about him. How nice it was to have a clear head!

I pulled into the parking lot at work and headed inside. I taught fitness classes at the gym near my house and I liked it. I taught yoga, aerobics and kick boxing. Getting paid to stay physically fit while training people in need of a lifestyle change and those who liked to keep in shape was incredibly rewarding.

It was a little chilly out and walking from my truck to the front doors made me shiver through my thin pants, but when I went inside I suddenly felt hot all over. There he was; the object of my romantic and lustful desires. It wasn't even a half hour ago that I had masturbated to a sex fantasy about the two of us and it made me feel slightly uneasy, as if he could see through me and read my dirty thoughts.

Oblivious, he smiled at the sight of me. "Hey, Amy."

"Hey," I said, returning the smile. I quickly looked him over. I saw him nearly every day, yet I never tired of checking him out. My eyes settled on his face, hopefully before he caught me checking him out. He had a killer body, as any personal trainer should, but it was his face that had initially enchanted me. He had a warm, inviting face and his cheeks looked round and adorable like a chipmunks' when he smiled. His blue eyes were mesmerizing and his teeth were perfect-straight and unstained. What I loved most though, was his dirty blonde hair. It was neatly brushed but it had somewhat of a disheveled look about it and it was just long enough to run your fingers through. It was perfect for me.

Patrick was my best friend and I loved him. That's common in a friendship between man and woman, but I was certain that my love for him exceeded what was typical. I was attracted to him and no one else, my thoughts never strayed far from him and he was the only person in the world that I couldn't get enough. Most important, I recognized his faults, accepted them and loved him anyway. In my experience that is rare. People who fall in love have a tendency to think the object of their affection can do no wrong, as time goes by realize that their loved ones are indeed, only human, then try to change them in hopes that their beloved can once again resemble the perfection they had fallen in love with. Patrick had many faults. In fact, sometimes he just about drove me crazy, but his downfalls were part of who he was and I didn't plan to change him.

I couldn't understand why he didn't want me. Yes, he was with someone else, but he was living the life of someone trapped in an unhappy marriage, except he wasn't married. He didn't even have kids to tie him down. I listened to him vent his frustrations several times a week and I felt like shaking him and yelling, "Replace her with me for Christ's sake!" But I didn't have the balls to do it. I couldn't risk making him uncomfortable in our friendship; he was too important for me to lose. Besides, nothing I could say would change anything.

Day after day I took the position of the caring and reliable friend and it was exhausting. The only love I received was me pleasuring myself as I fantasized about him. Well, I got a hug and a kiss on the cheek instead of just a verbal goodbye, but it wasn't quite satisfactory. Mind you, we did have a lot of fun times. We shared many laughs at work and we did plenty of activities outside the job, but it killed me to not be able to fall asleep and wake up in his arms daily. Instead he went home to someone who didn't love him. I spent countless hours speculating why he was with her and why I didn't just give up and try to find someone else, but I never came to a conclusion.

It was noon and we were on break, sitting at a small table in the back room of the gym when he mentioned, "I got Emily a bracelet for Valentine's Day. It's made of hearts linked together with white gold. I think it's really pretty...I hope she likes it."

We had been nibbling on sandwiches and I suddenly lost my appetite. I had forgotten that Valentine's Day was only two days away. It always killed me to hear him describe the sweet things he did for her, knowing she didn't appreciate him at all. I had seen for myself what a bitch she was and it made my blood boil. I couldn't help feeling jealous and I hoped it didn't show in my expression. I didn't have a poker face. No matter how hard I tried to hide my feelings, people rarely had trouble reading me. "It sounds beautiful," I managed to say. "I don't know how a girl wouldn't love it." I wish you were giving it to me.

"I never know what to get," he went on. "I think I tend to pick good things in the end, though. That's probably the only thing about me she doesn't really complain about," he said with a chuckle.

I didn't think it was too funny, but I continued to try to hide my contempt for her. The best way for me to do that was to try to change the subject indirectly. "I think you pick out great gifts. You never fail to get me something that I love." It was true. He always got me something nice every year for my birthday and Christmas.

He flashed me one of those million dollar smiles. "Yeah well, you're easy to buy for. People like her are rarely pleased by anything." His expression grew dark. "I don't know why I got involved with such a high maintenance girl. I guess I secretly hate myself."

No, you're just a moron. Sometimes I offered him friendly advice when the opportune moment arrived. I was careful not to directly insult her as I knew I'd be heartbroken if he came to her defense. "Well, getting involved with her wasn't the problem. It's the fact that you continue to stay with her despite everything. You could leave her whenever you want but you stay put. Think about the present, Patrick, not the past." I silently applauded myself. Well said.

He slowly nodded. "You're right, Amy, as usual," he said, his voice sounding weary. I studied his face. He always looked weathered when he spoke about his problems with Emily and I couldn't help feeling bad for him. I didn't want to. After all, the situation was his own doing, but I still had a strong desire to fix his problems. I wanted to lean over the table and pet the side of his face. I wanted to cuddle my face close to his and kiss him gently on the cheek. I wanted him to feel loved.

I noticed the clock on the wall behind him. "It's getting late. We should get back to work." I noticed that his sandwich, like mine, had barely been touched. I giggled. "We're going to starve to death eating together." Sometimes when we went out to eat it took us about three hours to finish because we spent too much time talking and enjoying each other's company. I felt a pang of sadness at the thought as I closed my lunch up in the sandwich bag I had brought it in.

"Alright," he said as we were nearing the main part of the gym. "I'll see you after work."

"Okay." I turned to him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He smiled.

A few hours later we were in the back room again, finishing our sandwiches and talking when out of the blue he asked me a question that nearly made me choke.

"Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

Because I'm in love with you, obviously. I slowly swallowed the food in my mouth and wondered what I should say. Finally, "Do you have any theories?"

He shrugged. "No. I guess I just thought of it because Valentine's Day is coming up. It occurred to me that you're never with anybody. What's up with that?"

I began to calm down and I even found myself amused. "You've known me for a long time, Patrick. You only just realized that I'm always alone?"

"I don't know," he said. "I'm just so used to you being single that it almost seems natural for you. I think it would be weird if you had a boyfriend."

"That can be taken offensively, you know."

He patted my back. "You wouldn't take it offensively. You're too cool for that."

Yep, that's me. Totally cool. "To answer your question," I finally said, "Why don't you think of some answers and get back to me?"

"Okay, I will." He suddenly looked distracted and glanced at his watch. "I have to get going. I promised Emily I'd cook a real dinner tonight. She said she's sick of spaghetti."

I snickered. "Okay, Chef. You better go home before she gets the whip out."

He tried to look annoyed but he smiled despite himself. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, grabbing me and holding me tight for a moment. I relished in the feeling of our bodies close together and inhaled his sweet scent. I felt warm, at peace, and all too soon he let go.

"Goodbye," I said wistfully.

A cold, empty feeling hit me as I watched him leave. I felt that way every time we parted and the only thing that made me feel better, other than seeing him again, was not seeing him at all. I sometimes wondered if I should find a job elsewhere and cut off all contact with him. I would probably be happier in the long run. Call me a masochist, but I couldn't bring myself to do such a thing.

The next morning when I got to work I was disappointed to find that he wasn't there. "Where's Patrick?" I asked the manager, Carl.

"I dunno," he mumbled. "He called about a half hour ago and said he couldn't make it. Now I'm stuck calling his clients and cancelling his appointments. You'd think he would give some notice."

"Yeah," I said half-heartedly. I walked to the locker room to get ready for my class and thought about calling him to see what was going on. Then I remembered that it was seven in the morning and if he had gone back to sleep after calling, he wouldn't appreciate hearing from me. So I waited.

"Hey," I greeted his answering machine when I was on lunch break. "I wanted to see what was going on. You didn't tell me you weren't coming in today so I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Give me a call back. Bye."

I felt uneasy throughout the day as I always did when I didn't hear from him. I scurried into the locker room every chance I had to check my phone but he never called me back. By the end of the work day I wasn't sure if I should be worried about him or just annoyed. I contemplated my options as I drove home and by the time I pulled into my driveway I decided that I should be annoyed. He would probably be at work tomorrow and refuse to give me a decent reason for not calling me back.

Do I expect too much from him? I wondered as I walked inside. Would I be upset if any other friend didn't return my call in a timely manner? It was hard to tell. I wasn't really close with anybody else. I didn't know what to think. I went straight for the kitchen. I was hungry and eating might make me less irritable.

When I actually reached the kitchen though, food had escaped my mind. There was an elegant glass vase holding a dozen beautiful roses sitting in the middle of the table. Nobody had ever given me flowers before. I slowly approached the vase and gently reached out to stroke a ruby petal. The flowers were gorgeous. A note was attached to one of the roses' stems. "Go upstairs," it read. The note was typed, keeping me from recognizing the handwriting of my gift giver. That was when it occurred to me that somebody was in my house. Somebody had broken into my house and here I was getting excited about roses. There was probably a psychotic killer in my bedroom waiting to hack me to pieces. I didn't want to think that Patrick was up there waiting for me. I'd be setting myself up for disappointment.

I went upstairs and wondered how Patrick had broken into my house. Then I scolded myself for jumping to conclusions. I was excited, expecting to find Patrick in my bedroom, when I would find some creepy stalker instead. A creepy stalker who needed a calendar. Valentine's Day was tomorrow. I should have left the house and called the police. Patrick was home with that bitch, Emily, not in my bedroom waiting for me. I reached the top of the stairs and thought about turning around. My bedroom door was shut; not the way I left it that morning. I tried to remain calm but my pounding heart had other ideas. I opened the door.

The lights weren't on. Why wait for me in the dark? I reached for the light switch and cringed when I flicked the light on. Despite the situation I was amused at myself; being afraid of the light instead of the dark.

My room had been transformed. The white lightbulbs were replaced with red ones, making my white walls look pink. The unmade bed with blue sheets and a blue blanket was now neatly made with an inviting, pink blanket and fluffy, red heart shaped pillows. A white bear holding a red heart with "XO-XO-XO" written across it sat at the edge of the bed and taped to the heart was a plain, white card. I went to the bed and opened it. "I did some thinking," it read, this time in Patrick's handwriting.

I held the card, staring at it for an unusually long period of time, trying to keep myself from crying. Tears blurred my vision anyway so I placed it on the bed and wiped them away with my hands. "Happy Valentines Day Eve," I heard Patrick whisper into my ear from behind. His hot breath sent an excited shiver down my spine. "Tell me you love me."

I turned slowly. Our faces were inches apart. We kissed in unison, a long, tender kiss. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight while I ran my fingers down the sides of his face, kissed him again and relishing in the fact that he was finally mine. I had fantasized about it many times and the fantasies were dull compared. I felt weightless; carefree and filled with inexplicable joy.

"I love you, Patrick." We stood like that for a short while, I had my arms around him now and we held each other as if we would never let go. He lowered his head and began to kiss my neck. Feeling his lips and his tongue on my skin took my breath away. I closed my eyes and gripped him tighter.

He stopped after a little while and I opened my eyes. I wondered what was wrong. "Why didn't you ever say anything?" He asked.

"I didn't want to make things awkward between us...I assumed you didn't want me."

He kissed my forehead. "I would rather be with you than with Emily, or anybody else for that matter."

"You could have told me so."

He nodded and kissed me again.

"Let's not think of the past. We have the present to focus on," I said.

We undressed each other slowly, enjoying each other's bodies. We caressed each other where skin exposed as each garment slipped away. When we were completely naked I looked him up and down quickly. His perfect, solid body was breathtaking, but it was his huge, hard, throbbing penis that kept my gaze. I couldn't wait to have that thing inside of me.

In a fit of passion I jumped on him and wrapped my legs around his abdomen. Our lips met again as he blindly stumbled to the bed. He lay me down on my back and his mouth explored my body. To know that he enjoyed making love to me along with the feel of his mouth on my body was more pleasurable than any sex I had ever had in my life. It was intoxicating.

He gently kissed my inner thighs and spread my legs. When his warm tongue went inside me, I moaned shamelessly. I rubbed his head as he licked and sucked on me, wishing I could make him feel as good as he was making me feel. "Ahhh!" I screamed as my body exploded in an earth shattering orgasm. I had gripped his poor head, dug my fingers into his scalp, but he seemed to enjoy it because he worked at me more frantically and before I knew it another orgasm hit me and I responded the same way. I was hot, panting and shaking and dying to have him inside me. He knew. Before I could say anything he stopped, planted a kiss on my clitoris and sat up.