“I’ve got one more box of stuff down in my car,” he told me, moving toward the door. “That closet should be perfect for my hockey gear. And I promise, I have enough air freshener things to keep it from overpowering the apartment.”

  “It’s all right if you don’t,” I said with a smile, and I hurried past him into the kitchen and pulled something from a plastic bag. “I got a bulk pack of these plug-in things, and there’s an outlet right there by the door. Should keep the hockey-boy smell under control.”

  “Perfect. I’ll be right back.”

  Fox

  * * *

  I leaned against the front door. I squeezed my eyes shut, but I kept seeing Sasha in those tight yoga pants. Maybe this was a mistake.

  I needed to get my shit together. I’d had to deal with random chub around Sasha since I’d hit puberty, so this was a familiar struggle. Usually I let my charm and my dick do the talking. But she was my only female friend. And she was important to me. I didn’t want things to change.

  Sasha developing her tits and ass when we were teenagers had caused me endless hours of torture. So many damn wet dreams. But I knew our friendship was special. Even I wasn’t dumb enough to fuck that up. But there were moments when she caught me unaware. Like I had been moments before… The curve of her ass and the subtle arching of her back… My dick throbbed in my jeans. Damn it. I needed to get this shit under control. I ran my hands through my hair.

  I stepped out into the parking lot, and the wave of humid air calmed the rush in my bloodstream. I would have to be more careful and guarded than I was used to being. It was so easy to let go of myself when I was around Sasha. I’d have to remember I couldn’t let go entirely.

  I would keep it together most of the time. But I couldn’t control my subconscious, so I knew there was no way around the dreams of her that occasionally crept in. The shower had been my undoing. The water soaking through that bra of hers so that her nipples stood out. The way the water streamed between her breasts, trickling down to her navel and into her wet panties— Fuck.

  Nope. I pushed the memory of her hands rubbing my bare chest and abdomen from my mind. I tried to focus on how pathetic I was, sitting in my soggy underwear, close to tears. Sasha had seen me through a lot, and I didn’t want to be just another guy who couldn’t appreciate her beyond her body. I didn’t want to be another guy who was only interested in getting between her legs. No matter how interested I truly was. We were going to stay friends. I knew I was a player. Thinking of the kind of girls I’d slept with reminded me that I needed to keep my mitts off Sasha. I didn’t deserve her.

  I needed to get laid. It was always easier to master the mind-over-matter thing when I’d hooked up with a girl. But most of the time, I’d been too focused on hockey to worry about my social life. I didn’t need a girlfriend, though, just a quick fuck and I’d be back in control of myself. And I wouldn’t keep looking at Sasha and thinking about how soft she was to touch and why the fuck she smelled so good.

  I glanced down at my dick to ascertain how noticeable my erection would be if I headed back upstairs. Ten minutes in the bathroom and I’d be all right until I could go out and get myself laid. I started running through the list of friends I could call to act as my wingman, but most of them were the guys who had pissed me off during our disastrous dinner at the restaurant.

  I shook my head and lifted the box. It was heavy, and the awkward stance I had to adopt to carry it was perfect for concealing my uncooperative dick. I’d figure something out after I had done a bit of unpacking.

  I had to see about the list of common courtesy rules Sasha had drawn up, but I had a feeling that bringing a girl home could be the perfect way to convey that I was serious about the two of us remaining friends and roommates, but nothing more. I was sure me and Sasha were on the same page as far as not wanting to do anything to jeopardize our friendship.

  I was unable to knock on the door with anything other than my forehead, earning me an amused eye roll from Sasha when she opened the door. My cock throbbed again as I pushed past her to dump the box of stuff in the corner of the living room.

  “So, hear me out. I know me moving in here and helping with the rent and food and stuff is going to help you out with paying for school while your internship is still a for-credit thing. But your job at the restaurant…do you really get enough hours to make enough in tips to cover everything else you need financially?” I asked.

  “Um…yeah, sure. I don’t hate it at the restaurant, but it’s not the kind of job I’ve dreamed of.” Sasha played along. “Not exactly a huge secret.”

  “It’s just that I was thinking about this thing Echo was talking about when she came for family dinner last week. She’s working on creating and establishing her clothing brand…line…” I paused as I sorted through a stack of DVDs to put in the empty space on the shelf with Sasha’s—there were several duplicates between the two of us, so I put my copies back into the box. “I’m not sure what the difference is?”

  “Was there a point to this?” Sasha bent over to open up a box of my stuff labeled ‘bathroom.’ Her oversized tank top dipped in the front as she bent at the waist, and I could see down the front of her shirt to where her breasts swelled, rising above the dark fabric of her bra as she pulled out my bath towels and carried them to the linen closet.

  “Uh…no, I mean yeah,” I cleared my throat. I snapped out of my daze before shifting into an awkward crouch by the electronics box, pulling out and sorting my games and books as well as the miscellaneous intertwined power cords.

  Peeking over my shoulder to be sure she hadn’t come back into the room, I dragged in deep breaths. I could do this. Mind over matter.

  “She needs models to work with, and I was thinking she might be interested in working with you. And I knew you could use the money so…what d’you think? Is it something you’d be interested in looking into?”

  Sasha shook her head. “C’mon Fox, modeling? I want to be taken seriously.”

  “What?”

  I watched the tilt of Sasha’s head shift from leaning toward the left to leaning toward the right. Her eyes narrowed and she jutted her jaw out a bit before clenching her teeth.

  “Look, I’m just thinking of what might help. I don’t even think of you that way. Like a piece of meat. I mean, I’m not even looking at you as a girl.”

  She blinked. “You don’t?” Sasha asked with a note of disbelief and something else…disappointment?

  Fuck. “I mean…it’s not like I don’t look at you and see that you’re gorgeous and…stuff.” My dick twitched. I turned and paced, hoping she couldn’t see just how I thought about her. “Let me try this again. Echo is looking for women she can work with while she’s developing her brand. She can’t afford, and doesn’t really want, traditional fashion models. It’s an athletic line, and she was complaining about how regular models’ proportions just…aren’t right for her…aesthetic…or something like that. She needs women, not models. And she wants women who can do more than just model. She needs…how did she put it? ‘Brand ambassadors,’ that was it.”

  I chanced a glance at Sasha to see if I’d successfully dug myself out of the hole I’d inadvertently stumbled into. Her brow was still furrowed with displeasure, but she no longer looked like she wanted to run my head through the drywall behind the sofa.

  “Just meet with her. Call her, have lunch or something. She’ll do a way better job of explaining it than I can, I promise you that,” I assured her. “And it’s not something where you’ll be prancing around in your bra and panties as some…male fantasy. You know Echo. Do you really think that’s the kind of branding she’s going for?”

  A hint of a smile played at the corners of Sasha’s mouth. “I’ll think about it. I mean, I have a schedule, and it might not fit anyway, so…it will all probably be moot. My work at the station takes priority. But we’ll see.”

  “That’s the spirit. And for the record, I don’t think it will hurt your chances of getting on camera if people are already familiar with who you are and are used to seeing you. I know you’re concerned, but I don’t think something like this would undermine your career as much as you think it will.”

  I shifted my position as I headed for the bathroom. I just needed a minute. I reached the door, but before closing it, I leaned my head into the hallway. The doorframe conveniently blocked her view. “You know. The guys who tell you how hot you are, I mean, you’re all right—” I grinned. That’s right, keep it casual “—but I think some of their compliments were strictly part of their attempts to undermine you so they’d find you less threatening. I, on the other hand, don’t find you threatening at all.”

  Sasha grabbed a small pillow off the sofa and lobbed it down the hall at my head with a frustrated smirk on her face. I pulled myself into the bathroom and closed and locked the door, leaning back against it as I dragged in deep breaths. In a flash, I had the shower on and my clothes off. Once I was under the water, I began stroking myself. Remembering the way Sasha’s touch felt as she’d trailed her fingers up and down my bare back…over my shoulder with the washcloth…her hand on my knee…then thigh…

  As the release snaked through me like lightning, I knew I’d be taking a lot of showers.

  Sasha

  * * *

  I refused to call Echo for several days. I spoke with my manager at the restaurant about my hours, trying to squeeze in as many as I could between classes and the internship. But even with Fox helping with the rent, I still had school expenses to pay for, and that bill… Well, there was no way I could make the payment before the deadline unless I took out another loan or found a better job.

  I was so close to graduating, but I already had more student loans than I wanted, thanks to my father’s refusal to pay for any of my school expenses.

  “I’m not taking the money out of your wedding fund,” he’d told me when I approached him on the subject.

  “You know most parents set those things up the other way around,” I’d argued, disgusted by the conversation. “Most parents make a college fund for their kids, and then if the kid doesn’t go they put it toward things like a car or a wedding. I don’t want to get married right now or anytime soon. I’m not even seeing anyone!”

  But he’d been adamant, and I was now staring at the large bill due in just a few weeks. I swallowed my pride and called Echo during a break between classes to see how much of what Fox had said was true. I had my principles, but at the same time, I did have bills to pay. I trusted Echo’s judgment and was confident that whatever she had in mind would be better than taking out another loan. I could stomach making money off my looks to support myself temporarily a little better than using my looks to marry rich, like my father wanted.

  “Fox told you about it?” Echo asked with evident surprise. “I didn’t think he was even paying attention.”

  “Oh, yeah. He does that a lot. Gets that blank look on his face, and you’re pretty sure he’s picturing himself in the net with about fifteen guys bearing down on him. And then three days later, whatever you were talking about comes up again and he winds up repeating word-for-word what you’d said before,” I laughed. “It’s creepy.”

  “Oh, my God, you’re right!” Echo admitted. “So, wait, you’re interested in working with me?”

  “He said something about maybe I’d be able to work with you instead of working at the restaurant, and that you didn’t want to shell out the big bucks for professional models. I’m hoping you might be willing to hire amateurs like me…” My voice trailed off. I prayed Echo would pick up on my hints about being paid without making me beg for money aloud.

  “Well, it sounds pretty perfect to me. I’m still getting used to the whole hiring people to work for me thing, and interviewing candidates for something like this is just…awkward. What do you say when you want to tell a woman no, and she’s a model?” Echo sighed. “But you’re definitely more the body type we need, and I’d be so much more comfortable working with you than some of these high-maintenance professionals.”

  “Great. Just…I don’t know…send me a schedule and the kinds of things you’d need me to do for…prep or whatever. I’ll try to work my internship around whatever you need,” I offered.

  “Perfect. I’ve got Jen coming in to help in a few days…Tuesday, actually. Will that work for you?”

  “I get out of class at eleven…” I hoped that wouldn’t be too late.

  “That’ll work! We can get together for lunch first and discuss things. It’s a business expense, so don’t worry, the meal will be on me. And then after that we can get you in the studio to try things on, take some demo shots, so I can make a few tweaks before setting up a formal shoot. And we’ll discuss compensation.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s amazing, Echo. Thank you so much for the opportunity. I’ll see you on Tuesday.” I hung up, breathing a sigh of relief. This was going to work. Having Fox around was already changing my life.

  Fox

  * * *

  Later that night, I hung with Sasha at the house. When was the last time we had done this? I lounged back on Sasha’s couch, a giant bowl of popcorn between the two of us. I glanced over at Sasha and grinned. This was the first time I had felt normal in weeks. Since the trials.

  My chest tightened every time I thought about the way I had blown it. The chance I’d had; it had slipped through my fingers like running water. It made me want to scream. I wasn’t going to think about that today, though. I was just going to enjoy veg time.

  Before I knew it, a piece of popcorn bounced off my nose. “What the hell was that for?”

  “That’s for ignoring me when I asked you to pass me a soda.”

  I frowned. “You asked something? Sorry.”

  I reached to my side for the cooler and grabbed her a Diet Pepsi. I knew how much she hated Diet Coke. Before handing it to her, I wiped the condensation from the can.

  “Fox Coulter, at your service.”

  Sasha glanced over. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. “Well, as much as a guy who’s about to watch a romantic comedy can be.”

  “Oh, don’t pout. You lost the coin toss fair and square. I get to pick the genre.” She smirked. “Besides, I know you secretly love these.”

  The slight flush crept up my neck. See, that was the problem with living with your best friend. And when your best friend was a girl. She knew those things. Those embarrassing things. Things she would happily blurt out to some date you brought by.

  “I do not.”

  “Oh yes you do! I still remember you tearing up a little bit at the end of Love, Actually.”

  I groaned. “But that was a good movie. C’mon Sasha, he was in love with her. He was tortured. He knew he couldn’t have her, because she was his best friend’s girl.”

  Sasha laughed. “See, you love these.”

  “Fine,” I crossed my arms. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  As the movie started and the ridiculously-good-looking-but-funny Hugo fumbled his way into asking out the girl of his dreams, my gaze lingered over Sasha. She sat with her knees to her chest, occasionally dipping her hand into the popcorn. I noticed the tank top and short shorts that she had thrown on when she got home. The shorts were so short that I was pretty sure I’d see her ass any second. Not that I was complaining in the least. Her breasts bobbled every time she moved, giving me all sorts of ideas. Torture. Pure torture.

  Stop it, best friend. Remember, no more inappropriate thoughts about bestie, got it?

  I held onto that thought. I turned my head back to the screen just in time to see the hero and the heroine kissing, like really kissing. It was the kind of kiss that I sometimes wondered about giving Sasha.

  No. The kind of kiss you give your dates. You don’t kiss your best friend.

  What the hell was wrong with me? Before I’d moved in, my thoughts about Sasha were once in a blue moon. Now they happened daily. It had to be the proximity.

  Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

  Next to me, Sasha groaned. “On second thought, maybe this movie wasn’t the best idea.”

  I shrugged. “It’s not so bad. I was kind of getting into it.”

  “No, it’s great. I actually love this movie. It just reminds me that I haven’t had an orgasm in, what, five months? Even longer since I’ve been kissed like that.”

  I coughed. “What the hell?” She couldn’t be serious.

  She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, tell me about it.” She turned her whole body toward me as she explained. “I mean the kissing thing is almost worse, because at least with Battery Operated Boyfriend I can get an orgasm. But the kissing...man, I miss that. You know that kind of kiss that you sink into. The ones you take your time with, even though you aren’t sure if the person likes you or not. There’s a little bit of anxiety and anticipation, but you want the kiss to last forever.” She took a breath. “You know, the kind that makes your toes curl and your senses singe with heat. I miss those. Ryan didn’t like to kiss.”

  I threw up my hands. “Who doesn’t like to kiss?”

  “Apparently, Ryan. He said that French kissing weirded him out. That it was unsanitary.”

  I glared at her. “Are you fucking serious? I mean, the orgasms, the dude should be shot for that alone. I mean, how do you have a girl like you and not give her constant orgasms. But the kissing thing, that should be criminal. How long has it been since you’ve been kissed?”

  Sasha blushed and darted her eyes down to the bowl of popcorn. “Let’s see, we started dating about thirteen months ago. So yeah, thirteen months.”

  I gawked. My eyes were wide, mouth open, the whole bit. “You’re telling me he never kissed you? You’re Sasha Tenison. I know guys to this day that would give their left nut to kiss you. I’d be damned if I had you and didn't kiss you.”