Be My One Regret

be my 1 regret / 1

~Now~

STILL FRIENDS AND LOVING IT, AT LEAST, MOST OF THE TIME......

A sarcastic laugh spills over my shoulder. "All that extra primping in the mirror makes me think that someone is hoping to go to pound-town tonight, am I right?"

Mid swoop thru my lashes, I tighten my grasp on the mascara wand in my hand to an abrupt stop and glare with annoyance at the other set of eyes staring back at me thru the shared mirror in my bathroom. Those eyes flicker at me with wickedness from my best friend. The only friend I've ever really had since junior high. But now I was rethinking that choice as those eyes dance playfully with pouty full lips. And even more so as the slow creep of a smirk begins to curl the corners of that said mouth. It's a defiant tease. A dare. And I should be pissed, but God love my bestie, I can't resist not smiling back.

"Seriously? Pound town? What are we sixteen?"

Planting a small kiss on my bare shoulder, Tanner Jones leans next to me in the large vanity mirror and fake primps his exquisitely man-scaped barely there beard. "Oh, my lovely, Miss Ophelia Savage. You know I'm too pretty to think of highly intellectual conversation quips for your amusement."

I huff thru a grin and bump his side with my hip. "Damn you, you so are too pretty.  Do you know what it's like to be next to you when we go out? It's humiliating to stand next to someone who is more gorgeous than you are."

His freshly waxed brows knit together tightly. "Whatever bullshit you need to tell yourself. But you know you exceed a 10 on the hot scale. If anyone feels inadequate when we're together, it's me."

Redirecting my focus away from his judgmental stare, I switch to apply more lip gloss and shrug. "Right. A five foot seven, heterosexual blonde with curves in a tight dress and heels has nothing on a well groomed, fit and fashionable, six foot three of drool worthy man candy that...." I hesitate the tip of my lip gloss over my teasing smile and arch a brow. "...what are you going by these days? Are you still riding the gay fence? Or are you slipping from your perch into a bi-friendly zone? Do tell, because honestly, I can't keep up with you. Gawd, I wish I could be more explorative like you. It must be so liberating to have your choice of any hot piece of ass that comes your way."

"Try exhausting." His dreamy grin reflects back at me that pierces with a slight sting to the heart. But I clamp that shit down as he heaves a sigh and flips around to lean against the counter facing me. With a flip of his luscious wavy auburn hair, he peruses over my appearance. "Why that dress?"

"What? What do you mean? What's wrong with it?" Insulted and somewhat hurt into immediate insecurity, I step back and smooth down the front of the shiny silver material of the extra short sheath that I had debated on for hours before giving in. It was on the tight side but it was still flattering in all the right places.

At least, I thought so....until now with fashion police judgement. What did he care anyway?

I grunt flicking a snarky gaze at my Abercrombie and Fitch modeled bff. "Seriously, Tanner, this dress looks hot af on me and you know it." My belly fires with more desire to taunt, and I lean into him and pat his cheek playfully. "Poor Tanner, are you worried you're gonna have some competition tonight?"

A quick snap of his hand and my wrist is caught into a firm but gentle grasp. His green eyes dart into mine as he tugs me between his parted legs. It's a familiar game. And I hate the swift rush of how it feels when he does things like this. It's the same ploy that he uses whenever he wants to because he knows he can. I'm unfortunately easy like that. And it was my fault for not drawing more definitive lines since I pathetically lived for the brief moments of the gray area to our damn friend zone code. But it also makes my belly churn with resentment for my idiocy, and I instantly run my defenses on high alert with a stoic non-caring expression.