CourtShip (Best Friends Book 1) Read online

  “It’s going to help by making me feel better about the whole thing, by giving me some encouragement. It won’t be that hard for you to do. You’ll just have to go out with me—maybe tomorrow night. You usually don’t mind hanging out with me.”

  “Of course I don’t mind hanging out with you, but I don’t really see the point of this. A... dress rehearsal for your date?”

  “Yes. I know it’s kind of silly, but it’s going to make me feel better. You really don’t want to do it?” Her eyes are big and blue and just a little hurt, like she can’t believe I’m not willing to do this little thing for her.

  Oh God. Make it stop.

  Make it stop.

  She’s fallen for someone at last.

  And that someone isn’t me.

  I’m going to lose her after all—even after I’ve tried so hard and done so much to make sure I never would.

  We’re never going to be able to remain friends the way we are if she’s in a serious relationship with someone else.

  Who the hell is this guy? And where did he come from? Why haven’t I known he exists?

  She’s been hiding him from me, and that might be what hurts most of all.

  But this is a huge step for her. The biggest step forward she’s ever taken. And I’ll always want the best for her even if the best takes her away from me.

  So I fight every instinct in my body and heart to say, “Okay. I’ll do it if you think it will help.”

  She reaches over to give me a one-armed squeeze. “Thank you, Shipley. I knew I could count on you.”

  “So you just want to go out tomorrow night?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to act like we’re on a date so I can kind of feel out how it should go. You don’t have to do anything but just show up and come along.”

  I swallow over the ache in my throat.

  If I think tonight is torture, I can’t imagine how terrible tomorrow is going to be.

  But Courtney is everything to me, and so I’m going to do it anyway.

  THE NEXT EVENING, I knock on Courtney’s apartment door at exactly seven. I’m wearing a good shirt and a decent pair of trousers, and I feel like I’m on my way to my funeral.

  I really can’t believe this is happening.

  I can’t believe I’m losing her after all this time.

  I’ve spent the day pulling myself together and preparing emotionally for tonight, so I’m in better shape than I was last night when the whole thing slammed into me out of the blue.

  I can do this for Courtney.

  She answers the door, wearing a little blue dress that has no sleeves and a deep neckline. It hugs her breasts, waist, and hips and flares out at her knees. She looks curvy and soft and touchable, and my body tightens immediately.

  “I’m almost ready,” she tells me with a sunny smile. “Come on in and wait.”

  I step inside and watch as she flits around, putting on a pair of earrings and a bracelet from a small pile of gold jewelry on the coffee table. Then she picks up a necklace and brings it over to me. “Can you hook this for me?”

  The necklace is the one I gave her on her last birthday, when she turned twenty-three. It’s a simple gold chain holding a small key-shaped pendant. It reminded me of the first night we met, her bemoaning how her key wouldn’t fit in the lock. That was the first year I had enough money to buy her something really nice for her birthday, and it took me forever to pick that necklace out.

  She wears it a lot, and it means something to me that she’s wearing it tonight.

  I take the necklace without a word and reach over to place it around her neck as she turns away from me. Her neck is smooth and pale and graceful. She holds her hair out of the way so I can hook it. She smells like vanilla almond. My hands are trembling as I close the tiny latch.

  I have to struggle not to press a kiss on the nape of her neck.

  “Okay,” she says, turning around and gazing up at me. “How do I look?”

  “You look beautiful.”

  Her cheeks turn pink. “You’re not just saying that to be nice, are you?”

  “No. I mean it. There’s never been anyone as beautiful as you.”

  I’m afraid I’ve said too much, but she doesn’t appear taken aback. She’s smiling as she picks up a little purse from the kitchen bar—one I’ve never seen before—and walks over to where I’m standing. “I’m all ready. Let’s see if I’m capable of going out on a real date.”

  She takes my arm as we leave her apartment.

  I’ve been stressing all day about the evening, worried that it will be torturous for me. But it isn’t. Courtney acts like her old self. Relaxed. Natural. Playful and sweet at the same time. She isn’t skittish or distanced at all, and she’s not slanting me those quick looks like she’s trying to figure out what I’m thinking.

  By the time we reach the restaurant, I’m having a good time. By the time we order, I’ve almost forgotten why we’re out on this pretend date to begin with. I don’t ask her about the guy she’s into, and she doesn’t bring him up at all—or even allude that tonight is supposed to be a dress rehearsal for what she really wants.

  She’s with me for real, and I can’t help but enjoy it.

  After dinner, we walk around the small downtown area, stopping for ice cream cones and then wandering over to the town park, where there’s a group gathered to hear a live band playing a collection of old mountain ballads.

  We stop on the far side of the park to finish our cones and listen away from the crowd. Courtney balls up her napkin, reaches for mine, and then throws them away in a nearby trash can. She’s smiling as she comes back to my side and leans against me.

  After a few minutes, when the band starts a new song, she says, “Dance with me, Shipley.”

  I blink. “What? You know I don’t dance.”

  “You don’t have to dance for real. This is a slow song. I want to dance with you.” She turns to face me, placing my hands on her waist and then winding her arms around my neck. “Why do you always tell me no?”

  I can’t deny her anything. Not if it’s in my power to give her.

  I ease her body closer to mine and start to sway gently. She leans her cheek against my shoulder as we move together.

  Most of the people are on the other side of the park near the band. There are a few people strolling nearby us, but they’re not very close. It’s dark outside, lit only by the light posts and the almost-full moon. The air is still warm and humid from the heat of the day, but it isn’t unpleasant.

  I lean my face against her soft hair. The scent of her fills my senses. I love her so much there isn’t room for all the emotion in my chest.

  When the song ends, I feel her lifting her head, so I straighten up and meet her gaze. Her eyes are huge, and the blue has darkened. Her lips are slightly parted.

  I’m so close to kissing her that the need for it pulses in my veins with my blood.

  I catch myself just in time, taking a quick step backward and dropping my arms. “I think that’s as much dancing as I’m up for tonight.”

  I pray that my voice sounds normal to her.

  She giggles. “I guess that’s as much as I can hope for from you. You did pretty good.”

  We walk around for a little while longer before we head home.

  When we get to our building, I start to head for her apartment, but she stops in front of mine. “It’s still pretty early,” she says. “Let’s watch something.”

  I freeze, my key poised in front of the lock. It’s just after ten, and she’s right. We have plenty of time to hang out and find something on television to watch.

  But the way I’m feeling right now makes it dangerous.

  I have no idea what I might do if she comes inside with me.

  “Aren’t you tired?” I ask when I find my voice.

  “Not really. You’re not trying to get rid of me, are you?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  She frowns at my hesitation. “If this was a real date, would
you be dumping me at the door like this?”

  “I—”

  “This is supposed to be a dress rehearsal for me.”

  I smother a groan and let her in. Surely I can control myself for a little while longer.

  I’ve managed for years. I can manage a couple more hours.

  I putter around for a minute, going to the bathroom and then grabbing a couple of cans of sparkling water from the refrigerator. When I get to the couch, Courtney is already sitting in the middle of it, her legs tucked up under her and the remote in her hand.

  “What do you want to watch?” she asks.

  I sit down stiffly beside her. She’s way too close. Way too warm and lush and feminine. Even with my eyes focused on the television, I’m still brutally away of the crease and shadow of her cleavage, of the irresistible curve of her neck, of the line of her bare legs.

  I’m breathing raggedly. I’m breaking out in a sweat. I’m growing hard against the front of my trousers.

  She’s so close. It would take nothing for me to reach over. Slide my hand up her arm. Comb my fingers through her hair. Kiss her neck. Cup her breasts. Finally feel her moving beneath me.

  “Shipley? What do you want to watch?” She reaches over to put a hand on my thigh.

  I jerk away like I’ve been burned, jumping up and turning away from her. I’m almost fully erect now, and I’m not going to be able to hide it from her for long.

  “What on earth is the matter?” She’s standing up too.

  “Sorry. I’m just... in a mood or something. I don’t feel like watching TV. I think I might just go to bed early.”

  She looks at my back for a moment in silence. Then she says, “Okay. I’ll go home.” She sounds subdued, slightly hoarse.

  I’ve hurt her feelings.

  “I’m sorry, kid.” I say the last word intentionally to remind me of what our relationship is supposed to be. “We can hang out tomorrow.”

  It doesn’t help. I’m just as turned on as I was before I said it.

  I don’t turn around, and I don’t say anything else as she slips on her shoes, picks up her purse, and walks to the door. She says before she leaves, “Thanks for tonight, Shipley.”

  She’s closed the door behind her before I find the voice to respond.

  I lock the door. Then I stride to the bathroom, already taking off my shirt as I move. By the time I reach the shower, I’m almost naked. I turn on the water, yank off my underwear, and step under the spray.

  I jerk off quickly, coming to a fast climax, picturing her deep eyes, her lush body, the dimple at the corner of her mouth. When I’m still hard, I do it again, imagining what it would feel like if I’d kissed Courtney tonight, if I’d eased her onto her back on the couch, if I’d moved over her, if I’d taken her the way I wanted to.

  My body is sated but not satisfied when I finally get out of the shower. I pull on my old Darth Vader pajama pants since I was wearing them the morning after I met Courtney, and they still make me think of her.

  Then I go into the kitchen, return the unopened cans of sparkling water to the refrigerator, and pour myself a glass of flat water. I chug it down and refill the glass.

  I’m tired but too wired to sleep, so I collapse on the couch and click around for something to watch.

  I can’t find anything.

  I want to talk to Courtney.

  I want to tell her I’m sorry I hurt her feelings. I want to explain why I acted the way I did.

  I want to spill out everything I feel for her.

  I want her to know how wrong it is that she wants to be with someone else. I want to tell her that we were made for each other.

  But I made her a promise last year that I would never do that. I would never ruin our friendship by wanting more.

  Nothing that has happened since has made it okay for me to break that promise.

  I’m trapped.

  I have no idea what to do.

  I can’t do anything but want.

  I sit for almost two hours and stare at the screensaver on the TV, but the wanting won’t go away.

  Six

  Today

  IT’S AFTER MIDNIGHT when there’s a knock on my door, breaking me out of my stupor.

  There’s only one person it can possibly be.

  I make myself move so I can answer the knock, but before I reach the door, she’s already unlocked it and is swinging it open.

  She’s changed out of her nice clothes just as I have. She’s wearing a tank top and a little pair of cotton sleep shorts. She’s barefoot, and her hair is rumpled. She looks like she just got out of bed.

  “Oh,” she says, jerking when she sees me. “I thought you must already be in bed.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  We stare at each other for a minute.

  Courtney pushes the door closed behind her and then turns the lock with a soft click.

  I know I need to say something, but there’s no way for me to shape a single word.

  My throat is tight. My chest is tight. My groin is tightening again.

  And there’s nothing in the world except Courtney and how desperately I love her.

  She makes a little sound in her throat. Her face twists strangely. Then she’s moving toward me, so quickly I brace myself for when she reaches me. She surges toward me, reaching for my head with both hands and pulling me down into a kiss.

  I have no idea what’s happening here, but I can’t help but kiss her back.

  The kiss is deep and sloppy and openmouthed. My nose bumps against hers as I move hungrily, and she’s sucking my tongue into her mouth. I gather her small body against me, cupping her round little ass and easing her up until she’s wrapping her legs around my waist.

  We hold on to each other as we kiss. Hot. Urgent. Naked in our need.

  This is Courtney.

  And I finally have her in my arms all the way.

  I’m not about to let her go.

  My arousal is throbbing with the pounding of my heart as I find the coordination to move my legs. I carry her through my living room and into my bedroom. We’re still kissing when we reach the bed, and we fall when my shins hit the bed frame. In the tumble, Courtney ends up on top of me. Her eyes are hot and hungry as she straddles me, running her palms up my sides to my shoulders and then even higher. She fists her fingers in my hair as she leans down to kiss me again.

  This one is just as clumsy and ravenous as our first one—with the added pleasure of her soft weight pressing into me. I stroke up and down her body, feeling her long hair, the dip of her back, the soft curve of her butt, the bare skin on the back of her thighs. She pulls on my hair and gives a soft moan into my mouth as my fingers get more intrusive, feeling their way up to the hem of her shorts and then slipping beneath the fabric.

  I’m rocking my hips up into her weight. There’s no way I can hold myself still.

  She breaks the kiss eventually, smiling with that sweet playfulness that’s so much a part of who she is. She braces her weight on her hands and starts to mouth her way along my jaw, her lips making a scratchy sound against my bristles. Then she keeps kissing a line down my throat, pausing to suck on my pulse so hard I’m sure it will bruise.

  I jerk with the surge of pleasure and grip the soft flesh just below her ass.

  She’s still smiling when she reaches my chest. She straightens up and moves her hand so she can run her palms down the length of my abdomen. I have some hair on my chest but not a lot. She slides her hands up to play with it for a few seconds before she caresses her way down to my waistband.

  My stomach is shuddering visibly. I’ve grabbed ahold of the covers beneath me. I watch her in a heated daze as her eyes lower to my groin.

  The spark that’s always been inside her has ignited again, and it burns brighter than I’ve ever seen it. I can see the fire in her eyes, in her face, in every move she makes.

  I’m all the way erect, and it’s obvious beneath the flannel of my pants. Her fingers are tucked under the elastic. />
  “These are my favorite,” she says, the first words we’ve said since she kissed me.

  “The pants?” I don’t sound anything like my normal self.

  “Yes. You were wearing them on the morning after we met.” She carefully lifts the waistband away from my belly and pulls it down over my erection. She stares at me, and I see her eyes darken. “But this right here might be a favorite too.”

  I huff and rock up my pelvis. She leans over to kiss just over my belly button. She’s still smiling as her mouth moves even lower.

  She’s got so much hair, and it’s falling down around her face, brushing against my bare skin. I gather it up and hold it in one hand so I can see her as she nuzzles my pubic hair.

  I’m really glad I took a shower just a little while ago. I hold on tight to the covers with one hand and her hair with the other as she licks a line up the length of my erection.

  Then I arch my neck and gasp as her mouth closes around the head.

  She squeezes the base with one hand and applies delicious suction with her mouth. And I’m terrified I’m going to lose it, come right into her mouth.

  I make a helpless sound in my throat and move restlessly until, just in time, she lets me slip out of her mouth. She pulls my pants all the way off my legs while I breathe slowly and try to control myself again.

  I’m completely naked as she straddles me while she still has her pajamas on.

  It hits me then.

  This is happening.

  I’m having sex with Courtney. After so long.

  I’m still myself, and she’s still herself.

  And it’s better than anything I could have imagined.

  “Courtney,” I say on a taken breath.

  Her smile transforms into something softer and fonder as she gazes down at me. “Yeah. This is happening.”

  She might as well have just read my mind.

  She pulls her tank top over her head, baring her breasts to my view. They’re full and firm and rosy-tipped, and I gape at them like a horny teenager. She giggles as she wiggles out of her shorts and underwear. She has to get off me in the process, and I turn on my side and prop up on one arm.