Someone Borrowed Someone Blue Ch 04

Hi! Welcome back to the fourth and final chapter of Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue. If you're new to this story I strongly recommend you start at the beginning instead of diving in here but you do as you wish.

For returning readers once again allow me to thank you for both your patience and for kind words imparted through comments and DMs. As promised long ago the heat content will (finally) rise substantially. I truly appreciate your enthusiasm in following the (mis)adventures of Tish and Bear and hope you find this chapter to be a satisfying conclusion. I'm going to do a little housekeeping here, which you are welcome to skip:

- all characters are over 18 and fully in control of their choices

- all chapters of this story are the work of the person writing as Icestripes. Feel free to download and/or share it as you wish but if you can please refrain from posting it elsewhere. Thanks!

- the actual Most Outstanding Player of the 2008 NCAA Women's Softball Championship is Katie Burkhart, not Tish. Credit where credit is due!

- if you've enjoyed SBSB I humbly suggest you give my story The Task a try, as it too, at its core, is a romance.

Once again, thank you so much for reading and please leave a comment and/or a rating if you feel like it. It's been a pleasure creating this story for you.

- Icestripes

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There are definitely worse places in this world to be than at the dead center of one of Tish's hugs. Powerfully strong arms holding you against her ample bosom, the coconutty scent of her hair filling your nostrils, her breath warm against your ear... it's a nice situation to find yourself in.

I would be enjoying it more if it were the triumphant follow-up to our first kiss, the moment where we wrap ourselves in a tight embrace to share our excitement at having broached our attraction for one another, to revel in the first expression of our love (and lust) for one another, and to eagerly dive in again moments later.

I mean, there was a celebratory air to it, as I'd finally found the stones to make my move on Tish, resulting in a kiss that left me staggered and appeared to have had the same effect on her. But her jubilation was because the timing of it had tweaked the despised Theresa's nose, with Tish under the belief that my heretofore unrevealed Spidey-senses had alerted me to her approach. That wasn't the case, as the real motivation behind my choice to act was something much more simple - I was in love with my friend.

This needed to be sorted out, and fast. Maybe it wasn't too late to salvage this, to get her to understand the actual reason I'd kissed her. Her arms slackened their grip around me and I followed suit, both of us taking a small step back and disengaging. Her face filled my field of vision, eyes glittering over another wide smile. With a nothing-to-lose attitude I cleared my throat and gave my head a little shake. "So -"

"HEY YOU TWO, GET A ROOM!" The cry from behind me was followed by a chorus of whoops and hollers. Expecting to see Tish either seethe or cringe (my money was on the former), I was caught by surprise when she gave out a hearty bark of laughter instead.

Turning, I saw several of her old friends coming in our direction. While I was happy that this aspect of her return had likely gone better than expected, I was less than thrilled to see them at this particular moment. One of them - I think her name was Dianne - grabbed one of Tish's hands and gave a tug. "C'mon, we just threatened the DJ into playing a bunch of our locker room songs! Let's dance!"

Tish's eyes flicked to me, but Dianne wasn't to be dissuaded. "You two can jump each other later! Tish, we haven't seen you in *forever,* come dance with us for a while!" From the ballroom something by Beyonce started playing - I didn't know which song it was - and Dianne's excitement level kicked up a notch. "It's starting! Come on!"

I met Tish's gaze and gave a little shrug - it wasn't like I was going to be able to rectify this with half of a high school softball team around - before nodding. She started to head off with them before stopping and reaching up at my face. With a wry smile she rubbed her thumb along my lips. "Not saying my lipstick doesn't look good on you, but you don't need to give The World's Most Miserable Couple any free ammo." Satisfied with her clean-up efforts, she shot me a glittery wink and mouthed 'I won't be long,' before allowing herself to be carried along in the swell of enthusiastic dancers-to-be. I watched until she was swallowed up by the crowd before turning away with a sigh and attempting to sift through the carnage of the past few minutes.

Despite being decidedly unhappy about the unfortunate turn of events I found that brooding on a stone patio while unable to indulge in an adult beverage wasn't much fun, so after a few minutes I made my way back to our table. While one of the dates had enough faith in his footwork to venture out on the floor with the women, the others were clustered around the table and gladly added me into their fold. Their interest grew when they learned about my job, peppering me for behind-the-scenes info (no, there aren't mascots actually wandering around the office. C'mon, dude). It was the right kind of mindless chit chat to distract me from stewing in my stunned misery. Maybe, somehow, this was salvageable.

If I didn't say a word, if I went along with her assumption about why our kiss happened, our friendship would survive. She wouldn't know how I really felt about her but also I wouldn't have screwed everything up by trying to try to ignite something with someone who was way, way out of my league. Besides, in a few weeks, maybe a month or two at most, she'd be gone. Maybe what we had would strengthen despite the difference, maybe it wouldn't, but trying to force something to happen despite all evidence to the contrary was a dumb option to take. With a rueful smile I mused to myself that I'd have plenty of stuff to talk about with whatever mental health professional I ended up with. That poor, poor person.

"Hey!" A somewhat sweaty - check that - a 'positively glowing' Tish had sashayed her way over to me, accompanied by the rest of her crew. With a start I realized the DJ had switched to something current - maybe Maroon 5? - and the dance floor had more or less cleared. A swell of chatter rose up around us as couples reunited. "How's it going?"

I shrugged as she grabbed a pitcher of water from the table and poured herself a glass. "It's fine. They're asking about the mascots."

She rolled her eyes as she made her drink vanish in a couple of gulps. "Of course they did. I can't believe after all this time you haven't come up with something ridiculous, like banging the Oregon Duck in a conference room."

"I mean, I'm sworn to secrecy by the NDA. HR was very specific about that. I'm worried they'll find out about the feather I kept, though."

Tish started laughing while she was refilling her glass, which had dire consequences for the tablecloth. "I don't even want to know if you're corkscrewed, Bear. Now shut up so I can pour this." She polished that one off just as quickly. "That was fun but my knee is calling me very bad things right now. You ready to go?"

My eyebrows rose in surprise. "Uhm, that's up to you. Don't want to stick around for the garter-slash-bouquet toss or the cake?"

"Pssht. Hell no, I'm good with skipping that weird-ass trash. Last wedding I went to the woman that caught the bouquet and the dude who grabbed the garter were cousins. The band started playing 'Dueling Banjos.'" She ran the glass along her forehead before holding it against her neck, while I did my best not to show how distracting that was. "Ah, that feels good. Anyway, it's up to you. I've checked all my boxes here and feel like it's tempting fate if we hang around. Theresa may spring a surprise attack out of one of the centerpieces or something."

I laughed. "I'm surprised she hasn't come at you yet."

"Oh, she tried the first time you got us drinks. I told her I wasn't interested in chatting with a hotel employee during a semi-formal affair." She put the glass back on the table. "I believe the best description would be 'outraged spluttering.'" Flashing a bright smile, Tish hooked a thumb towards the door. "Shall we?"

"We shall." It was difficult to stay down in Tish's presence, even with, if I can be melodramatic about it, a broken heart. Quick goodbyes were said and hugs exchanged before we headed for the door, moving against the crowd as the DJ called them over for the shared awkwardness of the Electric Slide. The Chicken Dance wouldn't be far behind. I was prepared for some sort of confrontation from Aaron and/or Theresa on our way out but they were far too busy being in what looked like a heated disagreement in a corner of the room. Maybe she saw the heat waves shimmering between him and the redhead? Whatever the reason, I was happy to avoid additional drama. This had already been Quite. The. Day.

Tish grabbed my hand as we escaped the ballroom, another broad smile in place. "I can't get over how well everything went!"

My assessment wasn't as rosy, of course, but I kept that to myself. "We ain't out of here yet, Tish. No gloating until we're off-property."

"Good point, good point." She still looked pretty pleased. "I'll give Theresa credit where credit is due. I thought the reception was pretty damn impressive."

"Best coconut shrimp I've ever had."

She gave my hand a squeeze. "Well, yes, but I meant overall - presentation, food, accessibility to booze... nice job." She sighed. "Still, that's wayyyy too much of a production for me."

"You don't want to spend 50k on a four-hour-long party?"

"Ha! Absolutely not. Myself and the groom, that's all I'd need. Have a big party with your friends later on." She shook her head. "I'd rather use the money as part of a down payment on a house as opposed to good coconut shrimp."

"REALLY good coconut shrimp."

Tish laughed. "Tell you what - I know a place in Key West that has coconut shrimp that'll make these taste like leftovers at the end of the night shift at Red Lobster. If I lose the Best Weekend Ever contest, I'll take you there."

Oof. That hit a little too close to home. "I thought I would get to choose? Where are the officials? This is a clear-cut case of tampering."

"Fine, I'll take you there as an added bonus. Not that I'm going to lose, unless you bought off the judges." There was an odd note in her tone, one I couldn't quite place. I mulled it over as I handed my ticket to the valet, who ran off with far more vigor than the moment warranted. As hinted out by the patio it had turned into a truly lovely evening, a light breeze slowly banishing the lingering heat of the day. Releasing my hand, Tish fiddled with my tie for a moment.

"Let me tell you, my fancy fellow, my friends were quite impressed with the quality of my date. Debonair and quite charming, or so I was informed." Our gazes met for a moment but I couldn't hold the contact, feeling myself blushing almost immediately. I was provided an escape from stammering something embarrassing by the almost magically quick appearance of Tish's truck. One of the other valets had the passenger side door open before the vehicle had even stopped moving, and I slipped the guy who'd driven it a twenty as I got into the vehicle. Too much, maybe, but this whole thing had cost me zero dollars so far, so why not? Plus he'd turned the headlights on, saving me the humiliation of fumbling around trying to figure that out. Then again, maybe they went on by themselves? Whatever, as long as I could see.

I pulled out, the route back to the house easy enough to remember. The silence wasn't exactly awkward but I wanted to head it off before it went in that direction. "The bride looked very pretty. And happy."

Tish nodded. "She always was. Pretty, I mean. And the dress was flattering, if you're into blowing a ton of scratch on something you're always only going to wear once. She laced her fingers together and stretched arms toward the windshield, grunting at the apex. "Did you see the size of her diamond? Yeesh."

"I didn't notice. Nice?"

"I mean, if you like diamonds, I guess so. They always looked like chunks of glass to me." She waved a hand. "Give me something with a little color, a little style, a little panache. Do something unexpected but sublime for the proposal. Gaudy and attention-grabbing is not for this girl. On the jumbotron at Madison Square Garden?" Her face scrunched up as if she were smelling bad milk. "Hard pass. Also, not that you asked but since the spreading of wisdom is for the benefit of all mankind I'd rate coughing up a quarter of a year's salary for a shiny rock as pointless as the Big White Wedding. That's me, though. To each their own, right?"

I nodded absently as I turned onto our street. As we passed the bar on the corner someone lurched out the front door and engaged in a bit of instant improvisational street art. I feel you, buddy. I was an audience of one, though, as Tish had her eyes closed and was humming some song under her breath and no, of course that didn't make my heart ache just a little bit more.

Dammit.

She blinked a couple of times as we came to a stop in the driveway and I shut off the engine. "Ah, home sweet temporary home. Time for drinks on the lanai, my good sir. Sound good to you?"

Part of me was clamoring for a 'I have a headache, I'm just going to crash' approach but it was overruled by the 'make the best of what you've got' faction. "Sure," I said, opening my door. "I'm such a nice guy I won't even point out it's a deck and not a lanai. Change first?"

Tish shook her head as we met at the front of her truck. "Nah, let's be fancy for a little while longer. I mean, who wouldn't want to see more of me in this dress? Because I'm killing this dress, Bear."

I stifled a sigh at yet another straight line I couldn't touch with a ten-foot-pole, or the figurative equal still stirring in my pants. "That's true. Okay, we stay dressed up for a little while longer but I reserve the right to loosen my tie at any point." I grabbed the knot and yanked at it. "Like, now."

"Fine, you peasant." She made a beeline for the bathroom as we entered the house. "Meet you out there! Bring drinks, any will do."

I rummaged in the fridge as I pulled my tie a little looser and popped open my collar button. I swear, if I worked a job that required a suit every day I'd have lost it a long time ago. Tish had provided me with quite the array of boozy choices but once I spotted the Guinness cans the choice was pretty simple. The bitterness would be at home with my underlying mood while the numerous other notes would make merry with what I was trying to be. Not the sort of drink I'd opt for if I was planning on getting seriously bombed, as it was pretty filling, but super-drunk Ted was best avoided anyway. With the maelstrom in my head that would make for dangerous sailing. I had to poke through a few cabinets before I found suitable glasses, and then I got distracted thinking about making some sort of Black and Tan variant before deciding that straight Guinness was good enough. The last of the second can had just been poured when I heard Tish padding up behind me - fancy didn't require shoes, it seemed.

"Sorry I took so long."

I turned around and did my best to keep the sensation from my heart skipping a beat of two off my face. Her lips were shiny and blue from a reapplication while her braids swung free around her shoulders, released from the crazy hair cage she'd had on top of her head. Her beauty was raw and stunning, like jumping into a cold river on a hot day, and it took a degree of willpower to keep from turning into Cletus the Slack-jawed Yokel yet again. I resorted to holding her beer up high enough that it broke eye contact, which also had the added bonus of coaxing a giggle out of her.

"Do I take this from you and drink it, or hold still while you pour it over my head?"

My brow furrowed as I worried about what kind of vibe I was giving off. "What? No, it's for drinking." I smiled as I handed it over. "I'd use a much lower-quality beer to douse someone with."

She matched my grin. "Had enough practice with that to have tiers, eh? That bodes poorly for me." Tish punctuated that with an exaggerated wink. She brought her glass to her lips before pulling it away and shaking her head. "Wait! A toast! Apologies in advance as my loquaciousness seems linked to my level of inebriation, and that's a bit lower than one would expect it to be at this moment."

"Is that good or bad?" I almost drank, catching myself at the last moment.

"No, it's good, it's good. Getting wrecked would have likely been due to epic failures, so having a light buzz is optimal, I think." She gave me an appraising look before pointing her chin at the back door. "On the deck, I think."

I followed her out, my nose perking up at the scent of steak coming from the porch of the house next door. An older guy stood in front of the grille, giving us a salute with his tongs while a woman with short, white hair held up a tumbler with something amber in it. We returned the greeting with some awkward, mumbled words. Tish puttered around, using a lighter than had been on the table out here to light what I assumed (and hoped) to be citronella torches before sitting down in lounge chairs, our backs facing them. A little rude, maybe, but we weren't here to have mindless chit chat with people we didn't know. As soon as we settled in, Tish raised her glass in my direction.

"To you, Bear." She pursed her lips for a moment, as if not sure what she was going to say. "I did my best to downplay it but this was a homecoming fraught with a lot of bad memories and potential landmines. I like to think I was pretty calm about it but man, on the inside I was a great big old mess. I don't know if I could have done it alone." She tilted her head. "But I didn't have to, because you came with me. You kept me calm during the weeks leading up to this, and you distracted the hell out of me on the way out here with your tales of woe."

We both smiled at that. A single tear navigated its way down her cheek, and she sniffed. I felt a lump in my throat. "Anytime I looked at you today, you had a smile for me. I drew so much strength from you, Bear, just knowing that no matter what these people might do or say I had you in my corner. When I came back from talking to my father - from making sure I'd never have to interact with him ever again - I was not as cool and calm as I was projecting myself to be."

That drew a snort from me, almost spilling my beer. "You chugged a rum and coke."

"You mean a Cuba Libre, you boor. Okay, my arm is getting tired from holding this thing up. Here's to you, and us, and kicking ass this weekend. I couldn't have done it without you. Thanks." She clinked her glass against mine before pulling it back and taking a healthy gulp. I took a long pull as well, conflict roiling within me as I silently raged against the universe. Why couldn't 'we' be an 'us' instead? Why did I have to fall for my friend? Ugh. What a nightmare.

Tish eased back into her chair, setting her glass down on the table between us. "You were okay when I was with the girls, right? Not too boring? How thoughtful of me to ask long after the fact, right? I'm so compassionate and shit."

I took another drink from my glass, relishing the complexity of the stout, before putting it next to hers. "I mean, it was pretty horrible but you seemed to be having a good time, so I allowed myself to suffer in silence."

"Ain't too silent now, Bear."

"Harsh but true." I let my gaze stray from Tish, sliding out over the dark expanse of the lake. Lights twinkled up and down the shoreline, and the growl from the engine of someone brave enough to boat at night diminished as it moved away from us. I grabbed my glass for another swallow, picking out the stars that were making themselves known against the canvas of the sky. How many unrequited loves had they been witness to? Thousands? Millions? Hoo, boy. All aboard the express train to Ted's Pity Party! Woo woo! I gave my head a little shake, trying to break myself out of this internal back and forth I'd gotten myself into here. Dude. Take a deep breath and enjoy the time you have with this truly amazing person you're lucky enough to be friends with. It's not her fault you're not her type. "It's pretty out here."