Page 48 of Apparently, I’m A B!tch

“On you?” She took her hands from the wall and looked up at me while sitting on her knees. I had to close my eyes to keep from running my fingers along her lips.

“We both had our clothes on, but you were on top of me, grinding on me–”

“I dry humped you?”

I cringed at her shriek, holding in my laughter as I said, “Sort of. Your hands were still covered in sauce and you braced them against the wall while you were, uh…”

“What?”

“Coming.”

I knew how embarrassing this story must’ve been for her. But the thought of her throwing her head back, arching and trembling as she rode me was a memory that sustained my fantasies of her over the years. It never failed to drive me crazy.

“Tristan! You never told me!” She shot up from the ground. “How could you not tell me I did something like that to you? I violated you! That’s not okay! I’m… I’m disgusting! I’m a pervert! I’m a sex offender!”

Now I did laugh. “No, no Nikki. It wasn’t like that. We were fully clothed, and I was on my side. You were humping my thigh like a horny puppy.” At the look on her face I added, “I probably should’ve stopped you, but I was drunk too. Sorry.”

“You’re sorry for letting me dry hump you?”

“Well, no. I’m sorry I let us get drunk like that in the first place. When something like that finally happened between us, I…”

“What?”

“I got hopeful that we could be more. Then you walked in on Monday and acted like nothing happened.”

She stepped closer, her navy dress still stained with coffee and smeared with butter.

“I didn’t remember a thing, Tristan! I can’t believe you didn’t rub it in my face the minute you saw me next.” She threw her hands by her sides in exasperation. “It’s the shop and your art all over again. You’re always keeping things from me.”

My mouth slacked open. A handful of minutes ago, before Lilly interrupted us, she was begging me to fuck her. How she managed to morph back into my hurt and affronted best friend from five months ago was something I couldn’t understand just then.

“It didn’t seem like something I should just blurt out, Nikki. I can’t just come out and tell you things when they pop into my mind.”

“Why not?” With her hands on her hips, it was almost surreal.

I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to go back to Nikki and Tristan: Best Friends. I wanted what we were doing in here less than ten minutes ago. I wanted to hold her and know she was mine. I took hold of both her hands and pulled her closer.

“I’m sorry I never told you what happened, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the shop, and I’m sorry I took so long to show you my paintings. I never meant to keep things from you, Nikki.”

She looked up at me with a wariness mixed with hope, so I kept trying. “I’ll do my best to be as honest as you are from now on. I swear.”

“Really?”

I kept my gaze on her as I nodded. “I’ll do anything to make this happen between us, Nikki. Anything. If all you’re asking for is more honesty, it’s done.”

Her face softened with relief and her eyes shone. I gathered her close and kissed the top of her head as she muttered her thanks into my chest. Guilt squeezed me as the thought of Rochelle pushed itself into my brain. I just promised Nikki I’d be honest, and already I had something to keep from her.

This wasn’t the first time I’d done this. Over the years, I kept things like my feelings, my art and my ambitions from her, thinking it didn’t matter that she didn’t know. I believed it was always for the best. Not because I wanted to lie to her, but because I was raised with my mother’s beliefs. And, if I was honest, I was afraid of what she would think, of what she might say. I never wanted to disappoint or hurt her, I never wanted to upset her.

But this was different. I was keeping the truth about Rochelle from her, not bringing it up because she hadn’t. And if she had, I knew what I’d tell her: my relationship with Rochelle was strictly business–and it was. At least on my end. But what Rochelle intended was thrust into the open, and I had to face facts.

Nikki asked me for honesty, and already I was breaking my promise to give it to her. But I could fix it. I wouldn’t let Saturday come and go without telling Rochelle the truth. I was in love with Nikki, and I couldn’t pretend to date another woman for connections in the art world. Then I could tell Nikki after our art class and we could start again, with nothing keeping us apart.

Despite my resolve, I was desperate to get rid of my thoughts. I cleared my throat and asked, “How does your chest feel?”

She looked down at herself and back up at me sheepishly. “Oh, um, Shawn must’ve tried really hard not to overheat the milk this time. I don’t think it was hot enough to burn me.”

Her cheeks turned pink and I bit back a laugh. “So, I dug my fingers into a perfectly good container of butter for you, and you weren’t actually burned?”

Her smile was playful as she said, “I guess not, sorry. If it helps, I definitely enjoyed having you butter me up.”

Nikki’s naked breasts flashed in my mind’s eye and my fingers gripped her waist tighter. I fought the urge to throw her back down on my bed, and instead, decided to say, “Me too… but I think my butter remedy might’ve scarred Lilly for life. We’d better get back out there and apologize.”

She simultaneously stiffened, let out a laugh and groaned. We pried ourselves apart and left my studio apartment with Nikki still covered in stains, and my sexual frustration reaching new heights.