Friend Zoned (Barnett Bulldogs #2) (34 page)

Trust me, there is absolutely no fucking better feeling in the world than being buried balls deep inside her soft wet pussy.  Feeling her body pulsing and convulsing around me, milking my hard cock of every last drop.

The first time we had sex, it honestly felt like I was coming home.  There was just this sense of rightness to it.  Inevitability.  As if I had been waiting my entire damn life just too make love to this one woman.

A wave of coldness washes over me as I continue staring at her.

As our gazes lock, I realize that I’ve been unconsciously clinging to a little glimmer of hope that she was somehow innocent in all this.  But searching those beautiful almond shaped eyes, that hope is now fully extinguished.  Guilt and shame are written clear as day over every single feature of her expressive face.

The realization is all but soul crushing.

Like a kick in the balls.

This girl is the love of my life.  She’s always been the love of my life.  Even at fourteen years of age, I knew she was the only one for me.  In all the years I’ve been her friend and longed for more, never could I have imagined there would come a day when I wouldn’t want to be near her, wouldn’t want to breathe her in, wouldn’t want to reach out and stroke my fingers over her silky soft skin.  Wouldn’t want to bury myself deep within the warm cradle of her body. Or take refuge from the world in her arms.

But right now, that’s exactly how I feel.

Shards of bitterness and anger slice and swirl their way through me.  The pain cuts so deep that it’s a wonder I’m still able to suck in oxygen.  That I’m able to stand upright when all I want to do is crumble to the ground at her feet.

With remorse swimming around within her stunning chocolaty hued eyes, she drops them carefully from mine before jamming the key into the lock. Somewhere in the back of my brain I notice the way her fingers tremble as she pushes open the door.  Almost hesitantly she turns back to face me.  “Do you want to come in so we can talk?”

I jerk my head into a tight nod.  Now that I’m here, I’m not exactly sure what to say.  It’s clear from her reaction that she’s behind the photograph.  Honestly, I don’t even know if I want to stay and hear her explanation because it won’t change a damn thing.

Nothing will.

I wait for her to enter first before following silently behind her.  My hands are still shoved within my pockets.  I think we’re both thrown off by the way I keep them to myself.  Almost bleakly I watch her uneasy movements as she sets her bag down carefully on the couch in their small common area within the suite.

Even though Mia doesn’t seem to be around, we still head to the privacy of her bedroom.  Looking anxious, she slowly takes a seat on the edge of the bed before her eyes finally lift to mine.  Instead of sitting next to her, I pull out the chair to her desk, turning it around so I can face her.

The little spark of hope within her eyes instantly dims as I continue to keep my distance.  She may not realize it, but doing so very nearly kills me.  So badly do I want to hold her in my arms and just make all this go away.

“Sam,” her voice is scraped low, hollowed out with enough regret to leave me wincing, “I’m so sorry.”

Searching her eyes, I shake my head trying to wrap my mind around what could have possessed her to do something like this.  “You took that photograph?”  Even though I ask the question, I know damn well that she did.

“Yeah…”  Her soft voice trails off before she drags a huge gulp of air into her lungs before slowly forcing out the rest, “the morning after we first slept together.  I got up to use the bathroom.  It was early, you were still sleeping.  When I came back, you were just lying there uncovered and you looked…” her words falter, “you just looked so completely beautiful and all I could think about was trying to capture just a little sliver of that moment so I could hold onto it.  I just wanted to remember it forever.”  Her fingers begin twisting in her lap.  A telltale sign of the nerves that are eating away at her.

“I wasn’t thinking about the ramifications of what I was doing.  I just got my phone and snapped the shot.”  She glances away for a heartbeat before forcing her eyes back to mine.  “I’m so sorry about what happened.”

Pulling off the Barnett Bulldogs ball cap, I plow my fingers roughly through my hair.  Out of all the bullshit excuses I expected to hear, that wasn’t it.  My face screws up as I ask, “Did you post it?” Because somehow that image, the one she just made sound so meaningful, ended up online before being shared about a thousand or so times.

Her entire body goes taut.  Hurt bleeds through every nuance of her words as she whispers, “Of course not!  I would
never
do that.”  Shaking her head, she says a little more fiercely, “You have to know that!  That picture,” her face reddens, “it was just for me.  And… and I realize how wrong it was.  I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that.”

“If you didn’t post it, how did it end up all over the place, Vi?”  Again I plow my hands through my hair.  By this point, it’s probably standing on end.  “Do you know how many women shoved that photo in my face wanting me to sign it?”  What little color she had left in her cheeks drains away completely.  I know my voice is rising, that I’m frightening her.  I can tell by the way she shrinks from me.

Another fucking first for us.

Gulping in another breath, she rushes on to explain. “Last night, when all those girls from our floor were over eating pizza, I left my phone on the table when I went to use the bathroom.”  Again she glances down at her entwined fingers. “I didn’t even think to bring it with me.  When my phone rang, someone answered it-”

It slams into me that I’m the one who called.

“I guess she looked through some of my stuff after that.  Obviously she found the picture and forwarded it to herself before sharing it.”  Her shoulders fall.  “I’m guessing that it spread from there.”  Getting to her feet, she slowly, hesitantly closes the distance that separates us before dropping to her knees in front of me.  Her eyes never once relinquish mine as I stare down at her.  “You have to know that I would never intentionally hurt you.  I’m so sorry this happened.” She whispers fervently, “I shouldn’t have snapped that shot of you.”  She shakes her head before laying it gently in my lap.  “None of this would be happening if I hadn’t done that.”

As much as I long to thread my fingers through her beautiful blonde hair, I don’t.  I just can’t bring myself to touch her right now.  Everything within me feels conflicted.  A war of emotions, thoughts, and feelings.  And then there’s the sheer exhaustion from everything that’s occurred over the course of this fucked up day.

Christ… it seems almost unfathomable that twenty-four short hours ago, my life felt pretty damn perfect.  And now it’s falling apart at the seams.  I can’t even bring myself to reach out and touch the one person who means more to me than life itself.

When I don’t immediately respond, she whispers brokenly, “Sam?  Please talk to me.  Please say something.”

All I can do is stare blankly at her.  I don’t have the words.  Because, in the end, there’s nothing I can say to make this situation better.  She shouldn’t have snapped the picture.  It was beyond careless.  And you certainly don’t leave those kinds of images on your phone either.  You’re just asking for trouble.

And here we are.

Fucking waist deep in it.

“I should have told you about the picture.  I should have showed it to you that morning.”

For the first time I wonder if it would have made a difference.

Would I have had enough sense to tell her to delete it?

I… I don’t know.  Unfortunately, hindsight is twenty-twenty. Once again pain flares back to life behind my eyes.  A headache that has been eleven hours in the making.

“Do your parents know?”

“Yeah.”  I don’t even want to delve into that right now.  What a fucking mess.  Another wave of exhaustion hits me like a Mack truck.  I just want to be done with this god forsaken day.  I want to forget that it ever happened.  I want to hit rewind or delete or something to get us back to where we were twenty-four short hours ago.

Slowly picking up her head, she once again meets my eyes.  Hers are shining brightly with unshed tears.  They look even more luminous than usual.  “I’m sorry,” she whispers brokenly, “so sorry this is happening to you.  I wish there were something I could do to make it better.”

I wish there were something I could do to make the whole damn thing go away.  But that’s wishful thinking and we both know it.  “There’s not.  It just has to blow over.”  Dragging in a ragged breath, I finally mutter, “I should head back to my place.  There’s still some work I need to finish up.”  Although how the hell I’m going to concentrate is beyond me.

Looking completely miserable, she nods her head.  “Um, yeah, okay…”

I can tell she wants to say something more but ends up holding it back.  Which is probably for the best.  At least right now it is, because at the moment I don’t have any answers.  I just need to get through this.  I need to see what happens and then maybe...

Maybe we can move past it.

But I need some time.

And space.

Violet scrambles to her feet as I head for the door to her bedroom.  It’s quiet and dark in the common area which means that we’re still alone.

“Sam?”

Glancing over at her, I hesitate before reaching for the doorknob.  It doesn’t really feel like we have anything more to say tonight.  And that’s just another kick in the balls as far as I’m concerned.

Her voice is very small, almost fragile sounding, when she finally asks, “Are we going to be okay?”  The oxygen in the room seems to disappear as I hold her wide frightened eyes. 

What can I really say to that?

I guess the truth…

Reluctantly I admit, “I don’t know.”

Instead of pleading or even arguing with me, Violet simply nods her head in acceptance.  As I close the door gently behind me, I hear a soft sob escape from her lips.  As much as it breaks my heart, I just keep walking.

Chapter Thirty

We’re fifteen minutes into Rickets’ class and Sam has barely said more than four words to me.  Actually, more like three.  Without really looking at me, he dropped down onto his usual seat and said-
hey, what’s up?
  I responded with-
not much
and that was it.

I’m not quite sure what I expected when shit hit the fan over that photograph, but this wasn’t it.

I’d thought he would eventually come around to understand that I made a mistake.  That I had a massive lapse in judgement.  But that hasn’t happened.  Our relationship has shifted so dramatically within the course of a week that it’s now barely recognizable.

And I have no one to blame but myself.

The loss of his friendship has been the most brutal part of it all.  I never realized, even before we started going out, just how intertwined our lives were.  Okay, yes I did… but it’s even more than I suspected.

I miss him on so many levels.  I feel empty and lonely without him.  He’s been such a huge part of my life for the last eight years.  Right after I lost my parents and my sister, Sam came into my life.  He didn’t fill the void they left behind, but instead carved out a little niche all his own.  He became important to me.

One of the most important people in my life.

And now I don’t have that.  I don’t have him.

But what can I do?  How can I possibly change it?  At this point, I’d simply be thankful to have my friend back.

I’ve sent him a few texts but haven’t gotten much back in the way of responses.  More like
yes
or
no
and that’s it.  At least he’s not totally ignoring me.  It’s a small consolation.  And I’ve been too scared to push for more interaction.

Once our ninety minute class is over, I pack up my things just wanting to get out of there as fast as I can.  Normally Sam and I walk out together, his arm slung across my shoulders, pulling me towards that big body of his. But I don’t bother waiting for him.  It hurts too much to sit so close to him and yet feel miles apart.  And there’s absolutely nothing I can do to make it better either, because I’ve asked and the response is always the same-
nothing
.

Sliding past him, I mumble goodbye before hightailing it out of the classroom.  If I have any hopes that he’ll stop me, maybe suggest that we finally sit down and talk things out, those hopes are quickly crushed as I disappear silently through the door.  My heart aches as I leave the building behind.

I can’t help but wonder if Sam and I will be able to mend our fractured relationship.  Every day that quietly slips by, leaves my hopes plummeting even further.  It’s nearly impossible to imagine my life without Sam filling it.  I’ve cried more this week than I have in a long time.  Not since my parents died…

It’s not like I don’t understand that he’s embarrassed, that his family is angry with him.  I get it.  I shouldn’t have taken the photograph.  I wanted to capture something beautiful and all it did was kill our relationship.

The sharp ringing of my phone knocks me out of those depressing thoughts.  Which is probably for the best.  It’s always hard when I come from seeing him because it’s nothing more than a stark reminder of the friendship I’ve lost.