I Can See Clearly Now

Hello, gentle readers. This story is something I’m using to fill in the gap between other ongoing projects that are stalled or nowhere near complete. It was a spur-of-the-moment writing thing and is supposed to be a cute little tale, so hopefully it delivers.

As always, thank you to my dear friends for your comments and suggestions; they all made this a lot better. Any remaining errors are the result of me tinkering with it after their input. I just can’t leave well enough alone!

As always, I welcome all feedback whether good, bad, or indifferent. Thank you for reading and hope you enjoy!

#

SIMONE

Simone glanced up from open books and scattered sheets as he approached the table and her heart broke all over again, just like it did every time she saw him.

Michael Ritter stood just under five-ten. He was slender, though not in an athletic way, but more in the manner of someone possessed of a narrow frame and fast metabolism. He moved with the easy-going grace of a practiced musician or artist, and not the future lawyer he was. Michael’s dark brown hair flopped over his open, earnest face, which Simone always thought was a shame since those locks and his glasses conspired to hide from her the most brilliant blue eyes she had ever seen.

Those eyes were now locked on the object of Michael’s affection, seated to Simone’s left. His mouth formed in a shy smile. “Hi, Emma.”

Emma smiled back at him. “Hi, Michael. Jake and Gary texted and said they’ll be here in five.”

“That’s fine. I’ll grab the first pitcher.” Only when Emma gave him one last small smile and looked away did his gaze refocus on Simone. “Hey, Simone. How’s it hanging?”

“Longer than yours.”

“Don’t get mad ’cause you’re stuck in a chick body.”

“Still more of a man than you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckled and turned toward the bar.

Simone watched him go, a small smile on her lips. Their long-standing banter had always contained an element of snark. Despite the reactions people sometimes had to their mutual insults–including sometimes pulling one of them aside to ask if concerned voices if she and Michael were fighting–neither Simone nor Michael ever took offense or held it against the other. The good-natured teasing was simply a facet of their friendship.

For three years, Simone had been drawn to Michael. Ever since Simone and Emma had first sat next to the slender dark-haired boy in their Introductory to Criminal Science class of their freshman year, she’d been interested. His open, friendly smile had captured her attention right away and before the class had ended, they’d started talking. Before long, he’d joined Emma and Simone’s circle, along with a few others studying pre-law, until they were all a tight study unit, helping each other with projects and exam prep. But for Simone, what had started as mutual interest and friendship had developed to attraction until now, when, halfway through the first semester of their senior year, Simone knew she was madly in love with him. She’d dated other men off and on since she’d been in college but measured against the one who held her heart, she found them all wanting. He wasn’t the best-looking man Simone had ever seen but he was generous, honest, kind, and ethical.

All the qualities one would hope for in a lawyer, she thought, even if many of them don’t possess a single one. And it’s all wasted.

Her eyes flicked to the other woman at the table.

Simone had known Emma Miller since they were in elementary school, and for years, they’d been friends, then best friends, and for the last three years at university, roommates. As much as Simone thought she was plain, she knew Emma was beautiful. Emma had the creamy white unblemished skin of a supermodel. Her body was toned and trim from a youth spent playing basketball and field hockey, when compared to Simone’s shorter and stockier build. While Emma’s sense of clothing was stylish, Simone usually opted for loose cargo pants and baggy tee shirts. They both had developed crap eyesight growing up; Emma had parents who sprung for Lasik-type corrective surgery, while Simone still wore plain black -plastic-rimmed glasses.

She touched the frizzy black hair she’d bound in a clip to keep it from her face while eyeing the soft golden locks surrounding Emma’s head. Simone thought her own mother’s long lustrous black hair–a hallmark of her Caribbean heritage–was quite beautiful, as was her mom’s facial bone structure and dark skin tone. Her father’s handsome Germanic features were strong and proud, and he was a big, wide-bodied man. Simone often looked in the mirror and felt that she’d got the worst of both sides: a blended unhealthy-looking off-white pigmentation, the brown frizzy hair, mud-colored eyes, and the stout build. Not ugly but not beautiful either. Just… plain.

Despite their physical differences, Simone and Emma had always gotten along well. Simone’s quiet, calm personality meshed with Emma’s more brash and flamboyant one. Emma had always included Simone in her circle and never excluded her, even when some of Emma’s more “in-crowd” friends had huffed about it. When they were kids, Emma has always promised to keep Simone close, saying things like, “You’re my best girl, no matter what happens.” Simone knew that some hot girls like Emma would keep around a less-good-looking friend, to make sure there was less competition. Simone didn’t think Emma was like that.

Well… not too much, anyway.

Emma had always had attention from the male species; Simone, not so much. Emma was usually at the center of a whirlwind of jocks, rich kids, and even older men courting her for attention. Simone had always just shaken her head at her friend’s antics and been glad she’d been able to concentrate on her studies. Unlike Emma, whose family was very well-off, Simone’s scholarships were her lifeline; her parents could not afford to pay her tuition, especially with two kids still at home. Other than intermittent feelings of jealousy, men fawning over Emma never bothered Simone much.

Until Michael.

She sighed and lowered her eyes to her notes. Regardless of everything else, they all needed to pass this test. As soon as Jake and Gary–the other two members of their study group who were joining them–arrived, they could get started in earnest. She decided to focus on and concentrate on her work.

That resolve lasted as long as it took Michael to turn from the bar with a pitcher of frothy beer in one hand and some glasses in the other. She watched him wheel away from the brass rail and bump into an older woman carrying a drink. The woman’s beverage slopped over the side. He immediately placed the pitcher and glasses and began apologizing and summoning the bartender. A moment later, he’d paid to replace her drink. The woman, who was initially angry, now laughed along with him. Only once she was settled and on her way did Michael retrieve his order. The pleasant look never left his face.

Simone smiled at that. He was so considerate and kind. Always the first to look to help other people and the last to expect it himself. She watched him cross the floor and her grin faded. Eager anticipation filled his expression as his eyes settled on Emma again. Just seeing it made Simone’s soul ache for him. She began chewing one of her fingernails in frustration.

Michael, I’m sorry. For your sake, I wish it were otherwise. But she’s never going to want you.

#

MICHAEL

He approached the table, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Every time he saw Emma, Michael was overcome with something his mother would have certainly called, “puppy love.”

It’s more than that.

His gaze traced the soft curves of her face, delicate nose, and full pouty lips. He resisted the urge to let his gaze wander lower. Her shirt wasn’t low cut but just seeing the swell of her breasts was often enough to make his dick wake up and take notice.

She hadn’t looked at him since he had gone to the bar. Her eyes scanned the pages of the textbook as she scribbled in her notebook. Michael’s gaze never left Emma as he walked back to the table but she didn’t glance his way a single time. He was disappointed but used to it. He gently set the pitcher and two glasses in the center of the table. “I’ll grab some more glasses for the guys.”

Emma did look at him then and smiled again. “Would you mind grabbing me a Diet Coke too?”

He hesitated, then forced a smile himself. “Sure.”

He swiveled in place and headed back to the bar, ignoring Simone’s disapproving frown. His thoughts wandered as he weaved through the tables.

You poor sap. You’ve got it bad.

And he did. He’d wanted Emma since the first class they’d had together. From her natural beauty to her tinkling laugh that reminded him of tiny crystals rubbing together, everything about Emma pulled at Michael’s attention. She was easy to talk to, smart enough that she did well in class, had ambition and goals. Brains and beauty, she was the whole package.

And thus far for him, unattainable.

As long as he’d known her, Emma had always dated big men on campus–and some men not on campus. All her boyfriends shared two common characteristics. Physically, they were big, muscular, alpha-male types, successful in school, sports, or business. But more importantly, they never lasted very long. Emma might date one for a few weeks or a month and then she’d be on to the next one.

Michael didn’t understand. Those guys might be impressive but they never did anything for her. He’d heard, direct from Emma’s bitter mouth, when they stood her up, missed dates, or ignored her. Michael had done everything he could to contrast himself with them. He studied with Emma outside the group and had given her his class notes and crib sheets. He sat on the phone with her for an hour the night she cried over a boyfriend who had been cheating on her. He drove her home one weekend, to the far corner of Lincoln, when her car broke down. It was a ninety-minute round-trip in traffic but so what? He was helping a friend.

He paid for the soft drink and headed back to the table. A small voice in the back of his head–which had been growing increasingly louder over the last month–berated him for spending money on something that Emma herself could pay for. The voice screamed that it wasn’t the two dollars but the principle… the same principle that said Emma would never drive him on a ninety-minute round trip just because he asked her.

Michael sighed. The voice was right.

But the heart wants what it wants, right?

He reached the table and tried to keep his tone as pleasant as possible. “One Diet Coke.”

Emma took it and she gave him a sultry glance. “Thank you.”

Her honey-laden voice drove the nagging voice to the back of his head. He flushed in the glow of her attention. Looking for anything to divert his attention, Michael sat and focused on Simone. He reached out and pulled her hand away from her mouth. She let him. “Stop chewing your fingernails.”

“Yes, ‘Father.’ ”

He laughed. “How’ve you been, Simone?”

“Doing okay.” She pushed her slumping glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I spent all day filling out intern applications at law firms in Omaha for next summer.”

He cocked his head. “It’s only October.”

“Yeah, but if I wait until spring, all the best slots will be filled.”

“That’s just like you.”

She gazed at him. “What is?”

He smiled. “Always planning ahead. You’re really gonna do great out there.”

She blushed and lowered her eyes.

Michael liked Simone. She and Emma were best friends from high school right there in Lincoln and since all of them wanted to be lawyers, they’d all been in most of the same classes right from their freshman year. He’d always found Simone grounded, intelligent, and calm… and an absolute sweetheart.

He thought back to a few months earlier, right at the start of their senior year. He’d texted and had some group chats with both Emma and Simone over the summer as they discussed their move-in plans to their apartment on the northwest side. He’d been so excited to have them over to his new apartment downtown, the move-in of which had fallen right before his twenty-first birthday. He had offered to cook dinner for them both before they all went out so he could have his first “legal” drinks. Both Emma and Simone had promised to come eat with him.

Only Simone had shown up.

Michael had been hurt and disappointed. Simone had offered excuses for her friend but Michael could tell it was half-hearted. Simone, however, also brought a homemade cake and a silly card, and refused to let him wallow. After dinner, they had ended up going to multiple bars for his free birthday drinks, staggering back to his place, and passing out in his bed. They’d woken that next morning, hungover, and a little embarrassed at sleeping in the same bed, even clothed, but both had been able to laugh it off.

Despite Emma not showing up, Michael had enjoyed himself. Simone was fantastic to hang out with and he considered her a great friend. He examined her from the corner of his eye.

He knew Simone’s father was Caucasian and her mother from the Caribbean, and he somehow thought she had got the best features of both. She had the deepest brown eyes and beautiful wavy hair that Michael wished she would wear down more often, because it looked so nice when she did. Her flawless light brown skin absolutely glowed when she blushed. She wasn’t heavy but had feminine curves that even her normally-loose clothes couldn’t completely conceal. In short, Simone was a beautiful, wonderful girl. He wondered why some smart guy hadn’t snapped her up yet.

Michael knew Simone dated from time to time, as he did. She had always told him the guys were never a good fit. He understood; none of his girlfriends had ever measured up to his image of Emma. Their mutual dating failure was just one more area in which they commiserated as friends. Still, he wanted Simone to be happy and hoped she would find that special someone.

His mouth creased into a thin line at the thought and he glanced at Emma. If Simone started dating, at least two of us could be happy instead of just one: Simone with her guy and Emma with… all of hers. The thought brought another sigh; a sense of resignation flickered and he shook his head to fight it off.

Simone glanced past his shoulder and waved.

Michael glanced over his shoulder and saw Gary and Jake coming. He put aside his ruminations on Simone and obsession with Emma and unzipped his backpack. Time to get down to business.

“Michael?” Emma stuck her hand out. “Can I see your notes from the fifteenth?”

He sighed, flipped open his notebook to the right day, and handed it to her.

#

SIMONE

She shifted to another position but sleep would not come. Simone blinked her bleary eyes and gazed at the clock.

2:18. Jesus and Mary. She sighed. Maybe I should have gone and gotten drunk with them.

The morning had been hyper-tense for all of them but the moment they slouched out of the afternoon midterm, Emma had suggested they celebrate by going to the strip of bars a block off campus and getting tanked up. Michael had immediately jumped on that, as had Gary and Jake, but Simone had begged off, feigning a stress headache.

In truth, she couldn’t stand to watch Michael fawning over Emma again.

Why not, stupid? It’s not like he’s ever going to be interested in your frumpy ass.

She sighed and flopped again, staring into the darkness.

Despite trying hard not to think about Michael, her mind flashed to just before the test, when they’d been loitering outside the classroom, waiting for the preceding class to get out. Simone had once again been nervously nibbling on her fingernails. Like he often did, Michael had reached out and moved her hand from her mouth. When she’d glared at him, he had only smiled. “Simone, stop worrying. You’re going to ace this.”

She remembered her heart beating faster as she’d replied, “You think so?”

Michael’s grin had almost split his face. His hand had squeezed hers; the contact and warmth of his skin had made her light-headed. Michael had said, “Absolutely. You’re the smartest one of all of us. You’re going to do great. Now let’s get in there and kick ass.”

I almost told him I loved him right then.

The words had been on the tip of her tongue but before she could, Emma had arrived, diverting Michael’s attention, and the moment was lost. In a way, Simone was grateful for her friend’s appearance; it stopped her from making a fool of herself.

Still, the simple memory of Michael holding her hand ignited a delicious warmth in the depths of her soul. Simone lay there for a moment, wondering what it would be like to kiss him, to feel the swirl of his tongue across her lips, his breath pouring into her lungs, the heat of his body pressing against hers, his hard cock lying against her belly–

Simone flinched and glanced at the clock. 2:23. God damn it.

Sighing, she peeled the blankets from her legs and swung her feet to the floor. There was a bottle of vodka in the fridge. Maybe a shot or two would help her sleep. She snickered at the thought; Michael would have told her to get a joint for that, and she’d be game, except that Emma was adamantly opposed to having pot in the apartment.

Speaking of Emma…

Simone didn’t know if her roommate had made it back. She had not heard Emma come in but it was possible that if she was drunk she had crashed somewhere else, like Michael’s couch–though Simone knew well enough that if that were the case, Michael would volunteer to give up his bed for Emma and take the couch himself. The thought was both distressing and irritating.

But if Emma had made it home, Simone wanted to be quiet enough that she didn’t wake her roommate. She cracked open the door, tiptoed past Emma’s door, and made to turn the corner of the living room into the kitchen.

A sharp groan caught her attention. Simone froze.

The lights in the living room were off, though the curtains to their balcony were open, allowing the pale glow from the streetlights in the apartment complex’s parking lot to filter inside, rendering the room hazy and ethereal.

Two naked figures writhed on the couch. Simone had never seen the guy before but he was big and athletic, like every other guy Emma dated. He sat low on the couch, legs extended, knees bent, and feet flat on the floor. Emma was on top of him, facing into the wall, her hands resting on the couch back. She’d spread her knees to either side of his hips. Her sculptured ass moved up and down on his hard dick which–even in the dim light–Simone could see was slick with their combined juices. Emma dangled her tits in his face. The guy’s hands clenched her slender waist and his mouth alternated mauling Emma’s breasts. Their combined grunts filled the room.

Simone gasped. I’m never sitting on that couch again.

Her exhalation must have been louder than she realized. The guy’s eyes flicked to her and he smiled. “Company.”

Emma glanced Simone’s way. “Oh, hey. Sorry, are we keeping you up?”

Simone recognized the minor slur in her friend’s voice right away. Emma was buzzed but not smashed. She was perfectly in control of her faculties. Simone ducked her eyes. “Sorry, I was coming out for a drink. I didn’t know you were out here.”

“No problem.” Emma kept right on riding the guy.

The guy eyed Simone. Just the act of him doing so made her skin crawl. He smiled in what he probably thought was an enticing manner but she only found it unnerving. He said, “You, uh, want in on this? I’ve got plenty to go around.”

Simone fled, slamming the bedroom door shut behind her. She wedged her desk chair under the knob. She had no idea who this guy was but between his tone, the lecherous way he looked at her, and who-knows-how-much alcohol he’d consumed, she had no idea if he might get it in his head to “sample the roommate too.” As she huddled on her bed and pulled the covers to her chin, Simone’s eyes fell on her phone on her nightstand. On impulse, she grabbed it and dialed. It rang.

Come on.

A groggy voice responded. “Hello? Simone?”

Relief at hearing him answer poured through her. “H-hi, Michael.”

“It’s two-thirty. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I… I just needed a friendly voice.”

“All right.” His confusion was plain but he asked, “Did something bad happen? You and Emma have a fight or something? Do you need me to come over?”

“No, Emma’s…” She trailed off.

I could tell him–tell him the woman he loves is out there in the living room bareback-fucking some creep who hit on me while he was still balls deep in her. That’s the love of his life. She’s so unworthy of him, she… she…

Simone closed her eyes. She’d just be hurting Michael if she did that. He already knew about Emma’s proclivities and he still felt the way he felt. She couldn’t do anything about it but she didn’t have to make him feel bad.

“Emma’s fine, she made it home but she passed out. We didn’t fight or anything. I just… had a nightmare. I got scared and wanted to hear someone that made me happy. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Oh, it’s fine.” He yawned. “Sorry you had a bad dream.”

She snuggled into her blankets. “Did you all have fun tonight?”

“I suppose so. I only had one beer.”

Simone caught the guarded hint in his words. “But?”

He sighed. “Gary and Jake both bailed early. Emma drank a lot. She was flirting with some linebacker on the football team. I kinda saw where things were headed and I didn’t want to stay and watch it.”

“I’m sorry, Michael.”

“You sure are. You’re one sorry, sad sack.”

She laughed. “Fuck you.”

“Promises, promises. I’ll be over tomorrow, so you’ll have a chance for more snappy comments.”

“For?”

“I told Emma I’d take her to get her car. She wanted to stay with Biff or Ox or whatever his name was, so she left it at campus after the test, and asked me if I would take her to pick it up tomorrow.”

Seriously? She goes off to fuck some douche bag and asks Michael to hang around on a Saturday so she can pick up her car? She knows damn well how he feels about her and exploits it every time she turns around! Exasperated, Simone’s exhale came out as a harsh snort. “Michael… you’re not a taxi service. Emma can pick up her own damn car.”

“No,” he said stubbornly, “I said I would take care of it, so I will. You know, doing that thing where I keep my word?”

Simone shook her head. Her irritation fled, replaced by mixed longing and sadness for the man on the other side of the line. Her voice was soft to her own ears. “Our freaking knight in shining armor. Always willing to help a damsel in distress.”

“I try.”

“I probably should have come with you all. Then I could have brought her car home.”

He laughed. “I would have had more fun if you had.”

“You didn’t have anyone to pick on, is that it?”

“Well, there is that but no. Whether we’re jabbing each other or not, I love spending time with you. You’re awesome.”

“Why didn’t you say that, Michael? If you had, I would have come out in a heartbeat.”

“You wanted to go home and lie down, which I thought was a good idea, so you could rest and get rid of your headache. I wouldn’t want you to come out with us just to be miserable.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you have to take care of yourself.”

He was thinking of me and what I wanted. Simone’s breath caught in her throat. Her skin flushed and her heart beat so loud she was sure he could hear it. She wiped her misty eyes and whispered, “Thank you, Michael.”

“For what?”

“For being you.”

They fell silent. For a moment, she thought he might have drifted off to sleep before Michael said, “Simone?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you date anyone steadily?”

Boy, that’s the mother of all questions I don’t want to answer. She stalled. “What, you mean like a boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess the right person hasn’t asked me out yet.”

“You’ll never know if they’re the right person if you don’t ever let them stick around long enough.”

“I could ask you the same question,” she said. “You haven’t been out with any girl more than three times since I’ve known you.”

He didn’t answer for a second and when he did, his voice was resigned. “I know who the right person is, even if she hasn’t figured it out yet.”

“What if she never does? What are you going to do, wait forever?”

“I hope not.”

“Maybe she’s not the right person.”

“She…” He sighed. “I don’t know.”

They were silent again.

Simone’s thoughts screamed at her. Just tell him! She wanted to, so badly, but the fear of rejection–of wrecking their friendship dynamic–loomed large in her mind. She’d heard characters in books and movies say they’d rather have the person they loved in their life as a friend, even if they couldn’t have them as a lover. Better to have them a little than not at all, those characters said.

I’m calling bullshit on that. This isn’t better, this sucks.

“Simone? You still there?”

“Yeah.”

“You and Emma want to come over for breakfast in the morning? I’m going to make omelets. Say, around nine o’clock? I can take her to get her car afterward.”

For just a millisecond, Simone was tempted to go without even telling Emma about it. Michael was a great cook and had made them meals before. Not only did Emma not deserve it, but Simone also didn’t want to share it with her friend this time. She thought, I don’t have to tell her. I can just tell Michael she couldn’t make it. I… She slumped. No, I have to be honest. If I didn’t tell her and he found out, he wouldn’t trust me. She took a deep breath. “Nine sounds good. I’ll ask Emma in the morning but you know I’ll be there. Can we bring anything?”

“Just yourselves.”

“Okay.” Simone clutched the phone in both hands. “Michael, can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Can you just… talk to me until I fall asleep? I know that’s asking a lot but–”

His muffled laughs came through the line. “About what? Any particular topic?”

Not Emma! “No. Tell me a story?”

“For you? Sure.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“No problem. Did I ever tell you about the time my cousin and I were fishing and when he threw his rod back to cast, he hooked a bee’s nest, and we got chased across the field by a swarm?”

Simone let out a relieved chuckle.”No, but this sounds good.”

“I was ten or eleven at the time. We were visiting family in Alabama. My aunt and uncle’s place backs up to a pond that was stocked with a bunch of bluegill and other sunfish. So Bobby asks me to go down and fish with him, and I agree. It was a nice day…”

The rhythmic beat of Michael’s soothing voice faded to the edge of her awareness. Simone snuggled deeper into the blankets. She held the phone to her ear and closed her eyes.

Her last waking thought was that she would happily listen to him talk every single night of her life, before she fell asleep with a smile on her lips.

She woke to the daylight creeping through her window. A glance at the clock told her it was a little after seven. Simone stretched. Her fingers jarred against her cell phone, still in the bed with her. The thought made her grin.

She climbed out of bed and saw the chair under the door handle. The foggy events of a few hours past came rushing back. Her smile vanished. Simone wanted to take a shower but given the way Emma’s guy had looked at her, there was no way in hell she was doing that if he was still in the apartment. She removed the chair and cautiously opened the door.

The couch was vacant, though the coffee table was covered with empty beer cans and the now-empty bottle of vodka. Evidently, they’d kept right on drinking in between fuck sessions. The door to Emma’s bedroom was closed, so Simone approached and knocked. “Emma? You awake?” No answer. She knocked a little harder. “Emma?”

A gruff, half-asleep male voice drifted from the other side. “She’s sleeping, fuck off.”

Simone glowered at being barked at in her own apartment but left the door without another word.

She’d gotten what she wanted anyway.

#

MICHAEL

The knock at the front door brought him up short. He looked at the clock, placed the knife on the cutting board, and answered. “Hey, Simone, come on in.” He raised his eyebrows and peered past her as did. “No Emma?”

“Sorry, she’s sleeping in.”

“I… see.”

Michael did see. Simone hadn’t said it directly but he was sure Emma had taken that guy from the bar home to fuck his brains out and was probably sleeping off the excess of booze and sexual fervor. It pained him to imagine her writhing in the meaty grip of some asshole but he kept telling himself that she was her own woman and could be with who she wanted. He understood that but that understanding did not make it hurt any less.

It also brought a hint of irritation–irritation at himself for wasting his time pining for someone who didn’t return the feeling.

He met Simone’s eyes and could tell that she knew what he was thinking. He smiled then; Simone had always been so intuitive about his feelings toward Emma. Her consideration and empathy were two of the things that made him treasure her and their friendship.

You know what? Screw Emma. Simone and I can enjoy our breakfast. He said, “You’re a little early but it’s fine.”

“Yeah.” She had a soft bag slung over her shoulder. “Before we eat, I was actually hoping I could ask a favor of you.”

“Shoot.”

“Can I use your shower? The one in our place is…” She looked away. “… unavailable.”

He wondered if Emma’s guy had made her feel uneasy and while the thought of Emma and the meathead was annoying, Michael was surprised that he was actually angry on Simone’s behalf, that she was so uncomfortable in her own residence that she’d have to leave just to use a shower. He’d wanted to think Emma was more considerate than that.

This is just par for the course with Emma, if I’m honest about it. “Yeah, of course you can. I’m not quite ready to cook up everything yet anyway.”

She smiled. “Great, I only need about fifteen minutes.”

Michael found her a towel, left her to it, and returned to the kitchen. He mentally gauged the portions of ingredients he’d chopped and bagged up a third of it for the freezer.

I should have known Emma would be a no-show. I mean, when is she in my life except when she wants something? She’s made her feelings pretty clear, Mikey old-boy, and she thinks of you as just a friend, if even that. Not a damn thing I do is going to make her think otherwise. So, why do I do this to myself? I’d be much better off chasing someone who wanted me back.

At that thought, Simone’s face came to mind. Michael frowned at that, wondering why. He sighed and resumed chopping. He’d been at it about ten minutes when Simone reappeared in the kitchen. He did a double-take, stopped what he was doing, and stared at her.

She’d clearly been through the shower, since her dark hair was wet. Instead of keeping it clipped to the back of her head, where only a few stray strands could escape, she’d left the wavy mass hanging down, to frame her face and tumble across her shoulders. She’d eschewed her standard baggy shirts and cargo pants for a tight tank top and pair of bicycle shorts, revealing miles of leg covered with smooth brown skin. Her breasts stood out, high and proud and in a flash, Michael realized that because she always dressed in loose clothes that hid her body, he’d never recognized that Simone was far bigger in the chest than Emma. Her cleavage-bearing top made that fact apparent enough. Sure, she was curvier than her friend, with wider hips and thicker legs, but in no way would he consider her less appealing. Simone grinned at him, twirling her glasses by one arm.

He stammered, “Uh, that’s a different style for you.”

“Yeah, since we’re just hanging out, I wanted to be comfortable. You got a problem with it?”

“A little cold for the streets of Lincoln in October, isn’t it? You’re going to freeze your tits off out there.” He noticed her trembling. “Are you cold right now?”

“Let me worry about my tits. I’ll put on my sweats and coat before I go back out–and no, I’m fine.” She gave him a shaky smile and slid her glasses up over her nose. “And if I get too cold, you’ll keep me warm, right?”

Michael swallowed hard.

They made small talk while he prepped their omelets, with Simone hovering at his elbow–or rather, Michael tried to make small talk, when he could tear his attention away from her. She’d used some flowery body wash that invaded his nostrils and tickled his desire. Michael knew he’d never smell that scent again without thinking of her. He did his best to avoid staring down her low-cut shirt, though with her being right under his nose, it was difficult. At least once, he could tell she caught him ogling. Oddly enough, she didn’t seem mad. Instead, she’d looked rather pleased.

Stop it! he yelled at himself. This is Simone. You’re friends and that’s all. Right?

Even as he asked himself the question, Michael knew there was no easy answer. He looked at her again and his feelings of attraction grew. He fished for something–anything–to distract himself. “So… big plans for the rest of the weekend?”

“Well, I plan on starting by having a great breakfast with some chump.” She beamed a smile at him. “I’m sure at some point today, I’ll have to drag my oldest and dearest’s dumb ass to her car.”

“I said I would do that.”

“Nah.” Simone patted his arm. “You don’t need to sit around waiting for her to get through her hangover. Let me do that for you, okay? It’s the least I could do in exchange for breakfast.”

She aimed another toothy smile at him and all Michael could do was nod in dumb fascination.

Simone picked out the fillings she wanted for her omelet. Michael put the skillet on the burner to warm up. He finished the last of his coffee, only to be surprised when she poured him a fresh cup, mixed sweetener and cream, and offered it to him. He took a cautious sip. It was prepared exactly as he liked it.

She raised an eyebrow. “Did I get it right?”

“Yes, it’s perfect. How, uh, did you know?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been watching you drink coffee for years. I just knew.” Her eyes lingered on his.

Michael tore his gaze away and focused on his skillet. A few minutes later, he had two omelets ready, which he served with a flourish. “Your meal, madame.”

Simone giggled. “Thank you.”

They chatted about inconsequential things while they ate: school, news, local gossip. Simone told him about her dad’s promotion to regional director at his business and about how proud all her family was for him. Michael watched her with a small smile on his lips. Simone was animated and alive. Her eyes sparkled and her joy and enthusiasm were evident. He realized he was happy just watching her be happy. He even reached out and took her fingers from her mouth again, saving her fingernails. The action had become so automatic between them that neither of them acknowledged it–the thought of which made Michael smile.

She really is awesome. We get along so well and I love our time together.

Simone caught his gaze and stopped. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m just enjoying watching you.”

She blushed and looked away. The rosy tint made her cheeks absolutely glow. One of her hands moved to shield her cleavage, though it was such a subtle reaction, Michael thought it was more automated modesty than real discomfort. She murmured, “Well, stop it.”

He laughed. “Okay.”

Simone stood with her plate. “That was delicious, Michael. Thank you again.”

“Of course.” She reached for his plate but he shook his head. He said, “I can get it.”

“No, let me.”

“I–”

His hand fell over hers as they both reached for his dish. Simone froze, like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

Michael could not tear his gaze from hers. They stared at each other for several seconds.

At last, Simone lowered her eyes. She moved to the dishwasher with her plate and silverware.

Michael stayed where he was. He passed one shaking hand over his brows. Wow. That was intense.

He was still there a few minutes later when Simone threw on her outer layers of clothes, said her hurried goodbyes, and left. He paced around his apartment. In the space of a few moments, the atmosphere had somehow gone from feeling vibrant and pleasant to empty and lifeless, as if the joy had been drained from the room.

He sat on the couch and tried to figure out what had just happened.

#

SIMONE

She climbed into her car, shut the door, and gripped the steering wheel in taut fingers.

I wonder if Michael knows how close he came to me jumping him just now.

She’d emerged from the bathroom dressed in the skimpiest clothes she owned–basically what she wore to bed. Her frayed nerves had made her so nauseous that Simone had thought for a moment she was going to be sick. She’d had no idea what Michael would do or say when he saw her. The idea that he might chastise her appearance–or worse, ignore her–filled her with terror.

His reaction had been everything she had wanted.

His eyes had gotten big and she’d caught his gaze running up and down her body, taking it all in. Normally, such attention would have made Simone’s skin crawl but coming from Michael, she’d felt nothing but warmth, joy, and excitement.

Breakfast had been awesome. Michael had not been able to take his eyes off her; his attention never left what she was doing or saying, right up until the time their hands had touched when she tried to collect his plate. Staring into each other’s eyes had done nothing but ignite her lust. Simone had, with some dismay, felt herself getting wetter with every second of contact, She’d broken away, quickly thrown on her clothes, thanked Michael for breakfast, and hurried out.

She took a deep breath.

God, I want him so bad. This is just not fair.

The thought brought a bitter laugh. Her mother had always told her that life wasn’t fair. How right she’d been.

Simone drove home on instinct; her mind drifted, unable to focus on anything other than her memory of the look on Michael’s face when she entered the kitchen. Before she knew it, she was back at her place. She got out and pulled her bulky jacket closed. If Emma’s boy-toy was still there, Simone didn’t really want him scoping her out any more than he had the night before. Steeling herself, she went up to her apartment.

Emma and her “friend” sat at their tiny two-person kitchen table. She wore a tee shirt and flannel pajama bottoms; him, jeans and a polo shirt. Emma slumped, resting her elbows on the table surface and holding her head in her hands. A steaming cup of coffee sat before each of them.

“Hey,” Simone said as she shut the door. She caught the guy’s eyes on her and despite her shower, she instantly felt dirty again. “How’d you sleep?”

“Okay,” Emma croaked. “Hungover. You go out?”

“Brilliant deduction, Einstein.”

“Don’t be a smartass, please. Sarcasm hurts my head at the moment. Where’d you go?”

“Michael asked us over for breakfast.”

Emma frowned and glared at her. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

She avoided looking at their guest. “I knocked on your door and was told to fuck off.”

The guy scowled but to Simone’s satisfaction, Emma winced and lowered her eyes. After a second, she sighed. “Okay, sorry about that.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, apologize to Michael when you see him. I got a fantastic meal out of it.” Simone knew she was twisting the knife but she couldn’t help it. “He’d done a lot of prep work for us and was a little upset that you weren’t there. It’s fine, he and I had a great time anyway.”

“Okay, I get it.” She hesitated. “Did you tell him why I wasn’t there?”

“I just said you were sleeping in.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Let me know when you’re ready. I’ll take you to pick up your car.”

“Michael said he would do that.”

“I told him I’d handle it for him since he made me breakfast.”

Emma sighed again. “Let me finish this cup of coffee and get my bearings. Half hour?”

“Take your time.”

Simone retreated to her room and shut the door. She heard raised voices, followed a few minutes later by the slam of the front door. She assumed their guest had just gotten himself ejected but realized she didn’t much care either way. She shed her coat and flopped on her mattress. Visions of Michael crawling into bed alongside her made Simone shiver. On impulse, she grabbed her cell and dialed him.

Her heartbeat sped up when his voice came over the line. “Hey. Did you forget something? You tore out of here in a hurry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Her cheeks reddened. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong at all. You were perfect. I just wanted to thank you again for breakfast, and for listening to me carry on.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Simone. It’s what friends do for each other.”

“You’re more than just a friend to me, Michael. You know that, don’t you?”

“I am?”

“Of course. You’re…” Simone’s breath caught in her throat. She stammered, “You’re very special to me.”

“You’re special to me too.” He chuckled. “You’re probably my best friend.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah. I love our time together. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not even for Emma.” He paused. “Simone, are you alright?”

Tears blurred her vision. She clenched her eyes shut but not before tears trickled down her cheeks. She fought to control the quiver in her words. “Yeah, Michael. Sure. Can I call you back a little later?”

“You know you can.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Simone had just enough time to disconnect before she lost it. As soon as the call was ended she buried her face in her pillow and cried. After a few moments, her sobs tapered off. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Emma would want to get her car soon. Desiring to do anything but, Simone hoisted herself to her feet and tried to get herself together.

By the time she returned to the kitchen, Emma had also dressed, in a sweatshirt, black leggings, and ankle boots. She’d tied her hair back in a quick ponytail and she looked a good deal more awake than she had before.

Simone gazed at her friend in mounting dismay. God, she doesn’t even try. She throws on plain clothes and without makeup or doing her hair, she’s still gorgeous. Why would Michael even notice me?

Emma hefted a metal travel cup. “Coffee to go. You want one?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You left your hair down,” Emma said. “It looks nice.”

“Thanks.”

They rode to campus in silence. Emma made a few attempts at conversation but after Simone responded with cold one-syllable answers, she stopped.

For her part, Simone kept her eyes focused on her windshield. All she could think of was Michael.

She pulled into the campus parking lot where her roommate had parked the day before. “All right, I guess I’ll see you back at our place.”

Emma looked at her. “What are you doing today?”

“I don’t know, why?”

“I thought maybe we could hang out–go shopping or go grab an early dinner or something.” Emma raised an eyebrow. “You know, have some girl time.”

“I think I just want to go hole up in my room.”

“Are you mad at me, Simone?”

She sighed. “No.”

“Is this about Brandon? Look, I know he was an asshole last night, and then again this morning. He’s history. I am sorry, though. I should have thrown him out right then and there, when he made that pass at you.”

“It’s fine, Emma. I don’t have any say over your fuck buddies.”

“Don’t be like that. Talk to me.” She touched Simone’s shoulder. “I mean, you’re still my best girl, no matter what happens–my best friend. You know that, right? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I said.”

“Is this about Michael? Did he say something that upset you?”

“No, he didn’t upset me. I just hate…” Simone clamped her mouth shut.

“Hate what?”

“I hate the way he kisses your ass, Emma.” The words spilled out faster than she could stop them. “I hate that you take advantage of him, for drinks and favors and errands and everything else. He deserves better than that!”

To her credit, Emma looked away. “I know how Michael feels and I like him, just not that way. I can’t help that.”

“You don’t have to lead him on, either.”

“I probably shouldn’t. But I like that he does nice stuff for me. That sounds awful, doesn’t it?”

“It is awful!” Simone’s fingers clenched the steering wheel with both hands. “It’s fucking horrible!”

“I know, it’s selfish. I’m probably taking him for granted.” Emma closed her eyes for a second. “But it’s not like I’m the only one. You let him do stuff for you too.”

“I know that, Emma. There are two differences. One, I almost never ask him to do anything for me. I treasure what he does because he offers and I’m grateful.”

“I am grateful, I just–”

Simone fought to control her volume. “Two, I do stuff for him too. I cleaned his car that week he sprained his knee and was laid up. On his birthday, I bought him a card and made a cake. What do you do? With all the stuff Michael does for us, what do you do for him? It’s not a one-way friendship for me. I’m actually his friend.”

Emma’s face crumbled. “Simone…”

“It is so sad. He’s so hung on you that he can’t even see what else is out there.” Tears filled Simone’s eyes and she made a savage swipe with the back of her hand. “You know what else? I’m tired, Emma. I am so fucking tired of being everyone’s best friend.”

Her friend’s lower lip trembled. “What is wrong with you?”

“Everything,” Simone snapped. “Just get out, Emma. Run back to your perfect life, where every guy on the planet trips over themselves to get your attention, you throw them some pussy, and move on to the next one. I’d just like to have one guy to myself and I can’t even have that!”

“But–”

“Just get the fuck out of my car!”

Emma hurried out, glaring back at Simone. “I don’t know what crawled up your ass and died but you’re being a complete jerk.” She slammed the door of the car, climbed in her own, and drove away.

Simone watched her friend drive away. The anger drained out of her until there was only despair and sadness left. She already regretted her words but they were out and feelings had been hurt.

I hurt my oldest friend with my anger. I hurt Michael by running away this morning. I hurt myself by wallowing in what I can’t have. Three for three. Simone sighed. Nice going, asshole.

She put her car in gear and headed for their apartment.

#

MICHAEL

He flopped in the stiff seat of the lecture hall, glancing back to the entrance as he did. He didn’t see Simone or Emma. A grimace lit his lips, as he wondered which one he was more anxious to see.

Michael had not been able to get his mind off Simone’s visit and spent most of Saturday afternoon and Sunday pondering what it meant. He kept recalling how happy she was and how much he enjoyed their time together. He realized that for the first time in a while, he hadn’t thought about Emma very much. That realization was striking, as was the next that he decided he was more excited to see Simone this Monday morning.

Of course I like her, she’s great but… but… He shook his head, trying to keep the walls up, trying to fence away his friendship from any other thoughts he was having. Since Saturday, it had been an ongoing battle between his head and his heart–his head telling him he was nuts and his heart open to exploring the possibility.

For the first time, it was not a battle his head was winning.

Michael glanced to the rear of the lecture hall again. Five minutes until class started and neither had arrived, which wasn’t like them. He palmed his cell, wondering if he should call.

Even as he had the thought, Emma appeared at the end of the aisle, turned, and strode toward him. Just as he did every time he saw her, his gaze started at the top and worked its way down her bouncy blonde hair, the smooth skin of her face, her–

He frowned. Emma’s eyes were distraught and her lips pressed together in a thin line. Everything about her clipped steps and the rigid set of her shoulders spoke of tension and upset. Michael looked past her but did not see Simone.

She sank into the set next to him without a word.

“Hey, Emma.”

“Hi.”

“Where’s Simone?”

She sighed and waved her hand at the back of the class. “She wanted to sit back there today.”

He looked over his shoulder and spotted Simone huddled at the top row in the back of the room. Though Michael would have been shocked to see her dressed as she had in his apartment, a part of him was still disappointed to see that she had reverted to her loose shirt and pants, and returned her hair to its clipped position behind her head. “Why is she sitting back there?”

Emma didn’t answer.

“Are you two all right?”

“She yelled at me Saturday. We barely talked since.”

He glanced back again. Misery painted Simone’s face. “That doesn’t sound like Simone.”

“No,” Emma said, “it’s not like her. She’s really mad at me and I’m not sure why. She said…” Her words trailed off and she stared at Michael as if seeing him for the first time. Her mouth fell open.

Michael raised his eyebrows. “She said what?”

“Oh my God.” Emma’s voice was soft but full of disbelief. “I must be fucking blind.” She faced the front of the class and covered her mouth with her hand.

“Emma, what the hell is going on?” She looked at him again and Michael was shocked to see her eyes watering with tears. “What’s wrong?”

“Michael…” She wiped her eyes and looked at the floor a moment. When she met his gaze again, he saw disappointment but also resolute purpose. ‘I… I think you should go get Simone and get out of here. She loves…” Emma bit her lip. “She loves spending time with you. Maybe you can pick up her spirits.”

He frowned and flicked his eyes back to where Simone sat.

Emma patted his hand. “I’ll give you the class notes afterward.”

He snickered. “You will?”

“Yes. I’m not helpless, Michael. Besides, don’t I owe you for all the times you’ve helped me?”

Her words made sense. Michael looked at Simone one more time, huddled along in her obvious unhappiness. He wavered.

Emma’s voice hardened. “Go, Michael. I don’t need you. Simone does.”

Annoyance at her tone boiled up, as did revelation. “You never did need me, did you? Or want me? And you probably never will. Right?”

Emma looked away, biting her lip again. “Right.”

He stared at her for a moment. Emma was as physically attractive as she had been two minutes before but to Michael’s eyes she was somehow lessened by her statement, as if a final verbal acknowledgment of her lack of interest had severed a rope holding his boat to her pier and he was now set adrift. As much as he might have expected otherwise, being cut loose did not hurt very much.

Michael grabbed his notebook and backpack, and stood. He ascended the steps, walked along the top row, and sat next to Simone. “Hey. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

He touched her hand and she flinched. “Emma says you two had a fight.”

“Yeah. I said some things Saturday that I shouldn’t have. I apologized but there are still bad feelings in the air.”

“Well, I can’t imagine you did anything she can’t forgive you for.” He smiled at her. “You’ve been friends forever.”

“It’s not her, it’s…”

“What?”

She sighed. “Nothing.”

He glanced at the front of the classroom. Professor Dorter had yet to enter. Michael considered Emma’s words and made a judgment call. “You want to get out of here?”

Simone stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “Huh?”

“You want to skip class this once, go chill out? We can get the lecture notes from someone so we don’t get behind.”

Her eyes moved to Emma.

He grinned. “She offered for once, so I’m going to let her try. Yeah, I know she sucks at taking notes but it’s fine. Paul Fezzari owes me one a week of notes from when he was out sick. If I need to, I’ll go grovel to Dorter. Come on, you look like you could use cheering up.”

A tentative smile crept over her face. “Okay.”

They gathered up their stuff and slipped out the back just as their professor reached the lectern and called the class to order. Michael stopped her outside the lecture hall. “You want to get a drink or something?”

She stared at him with such intensity that he grew uneasy. “Simone?”

“Can we just hang out at your place?”

“Sure. You don’t have any more classes today, right?” A shake of the head was his answer. “Okay, me neither. Maybe we can order pizza or something.”

Michael’s apartment building was only a few blocks off campus, in the midst of downtown Lincoln. They walked in quiet, though he could not help but catch her soft brown eyes watching him every time he turned his attention from her. It made him nervous but at the same time, he didn’t mind. Fifteen minutes later, they reached his place and went in.

“Something to drink?”

“A beer?”

“Sure.” He popped the top off two bottles and offered her one. She took it. “So… you want to tell me what’s going on with you and Emma?”

Simone stared at the surface of his coffee table. “I told you. We had a fight.”

“Simone, I’ve known you both for three years and you’ve never had a fight. It must have been something serious.”

“No.” She took a drink, though her eyes never rose. “I lost my temper and said some things that hurt her feelings. Emma didn’t do anything wrong–I mean, at least not to me, she didn’t. It was more about me being frustrated and upset over… some things I can’t control.”

“So you just need some time to let it blow over, right?” He sat next to her and patted her knee. “It’ll be fine. Emma loves you, she won’t stay mad forever. In a few days, it will be like this never happened.”

She smiled. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

He grinned. “I try.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

Simone rotated her body until she faced him. Her luminous eyes fixed on his. “Do you love me too?”

“You know I do. You’re one of the most important people in my life.”

“More than Emma?” She stared at him, her lower lip quivering, as if his silence had given the answer she did not want to hear.

He thought of how caring and generous she was, how her laugh put him at ease, at how much they enjoyed each other’s company, and just how much he looked forward to seeing her every day. She was his friend–his best friend. They got each other and meshed like two puzzle pieces cut to fit together. He took in the smooth curve of her skin, the tenderness in her eyes, and the open vulnerability she had laid bare before him–and he was both amazed to discover what had been right there before him the whole time, and appalled that he overlooked it for so long.

If I had to give up one of them forever… it wouldn’t be Simone.

He faced Simone and touched her cheek, marveling at how warm her flesh was beneath his fingers. “Yes, Simone. More than I love Emma.”

Their lips met. Simone’s tongue poked into Michael’s mouth. Her hand found his neck and held him close.

Fireworks burst behind his eyelids and his heart hammered against his ribcage. Simone’s lips were soft and warm. Desire flooded his mind and his cock responded.

A second later, Simone gently separated her lips from his. A small smile crept onto her face. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to do that?”

“How long?”

“Three years.”

“Simone, I–”

She laid a finger over his mouth. “Don’t talk for now.”

“But–”

“Shhh. Just let this happen today, okay? Please?”

He nodded and kissed her again.

Simone’s hands crept around his head, twining into his hair. He walked his mouth down her chin and the soft skin of her neck. She held him close. Her hot, excited breath beat against his forehead. His hands drifted around her back.

She pressed her mouth to his ear. “I think we should move this to the bedroom.”

Michael blinked. A kiss was one thing but she was suggesting… He hesitated, asking himself if he was just looking to bust a nut. He gazed at his friend’s face. No. I adore her. I want this. “Simone, where is this coming from? This isn’t like you and–”

“No, it is. Trust me.” She stood and took his hand. “Come on.”

His knees trembling, Michael stood and followed.

#

SIMONE

The lights in Michael’s bedroom were out, leaving the room lit only by the afternoon light filtering through the thick curtains. Simone trembled but her exultant heart soared.

Oh God, I do, I want this so much.

Michael scuffed his foot on the carpet. “Simone, are you sure this is what you want?”

“I have no idea to tell you how much I want this, Michael. Please don’t think. This doesn’t have to change anything. Just for this afternoon, be mine. Not Emma’s or anyone else’s. Just mine.”

“I can do that.”

She kissed him again. With them now standing, she wrapped her arms around his head and held him close. She rubbed her breasts against Michael’s chest. Her nipples twinged at the contact, sending a sharp ripple of pleasure bouncing through her body.

Michael found the hem of her sweatshirt and lifted. She raised her arms so he could peel it from her torso. As soon as it was free, he reached for her tee shirt and tugged it from her, leaving her in her plain white bra. Despite her fevered skin, she shivered. Michael stepped back and raked his eyes up and down her body. She smiled. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Like I will ever forget this image.”

She chuckled. From the moment they kissed, her anxiety had vanished, as if the recognition that Michael would not reject her had freed her. The clouds of apprehension and self-doubt pulled back, allowing her so-long-suppressed desire to shine through. I have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow but for the moment, this is exactly what I want.

Simone placed her glasses on Michael’s dresser. She unclipped her hair and shook her head, swishing it back and forth to shake it free. The strands tickled her bare shoulders. She smiled at Michael and sought his lips with hers. Her busy fingers worked his shirt loose from his belt, undid the buttons one by one, and all but shoved it off his shoulders. He laughed, which turned to a startled gasp as she shoved him to the bed on his back. “Hey, take it easy.”

“This is no time for easy.” She leaped atop him, pinning his hand to the bed with hers. Heat rushed through her; she knew he could break her hold if he wanted but he simply gazed at her with anticipation. Simone lowered her face and brushed her mouth over his lips and chin, then down his neck. She rained light kisses on his chest and belly.

For his part, Michael held still. As she moved down and released his hands, he ran his fingers through her hair. For one nervous moment, she was afraid he was going to shove her face at his crotch but he only stroked and caressed her head, which banished her fear. She slid between his legs, undid his belt buckle, and worked his pants down. He wiggled down the bed until his knees were at the edge of the mattress and his feet were on the floor. The outline of his hard cock straining against his boxers made her breath short. She tried to pull his pants loose but grimaced when they snagged on his tennis shoes. “Why the hell couldn’t you wear sandals, like every other day?”

“Too cold outside!”

Lust and impatience filled her snarl. “Kick ’em off and hurry up!”

Laughing, he did, along with his jeans.

Simone grabbed the hem of his boxers and yanked them halfway down his thighs. His erection popped loose. She snared it one hand, leaned over, and slurped it into her mouth with one smooth motion.

Michael went rigid. A groan escaped his lips.

Turgid flesh glided across her tongue and teeth. Simone paused, savoring the heat and musky taste, before dragging her lips up to the tip, puckering as it popped free. She rubbed the head against her chin and said, “Not laughing now, are you?”