Harry
“Sarah, what are you doing?” I said as we walked into her apartment, she slid off her shoes and started prancing up and down.
“What do you mean, what am I doing?”
She danced around the room like a ballerina only she wasn’t graceful like a ballerina at the Met. She looked like a tipsy, drunken ballerina and I was surprised that she hadn’t fallen over yet. “Maybe you should stop the spinning. You have had a lot of alcohol tonight. You don’t want to throw up.”
“I’m going to be fine. Thank you very much, Harry Parker Huntington.”
“You do love saying my name a lot, don’t you?” I said as I undid my bow tie and slid it into the pocket of my pants.
“Do I?” she said with a small smile before walking up to me. She placed her hands against my chest. And the next thing I knew, she was undoing the buttons of my shirt.
“Sarah.”
“Yes, Harry?”
She said with a twinkle in her eyes. I realized in that moment that the feelings I had for Sarah were a lot more complicated and complex than I had allowed myself to believe before. I’d always loved her. She’d always be my best friend. I’d always thought about her in a caring and thoughtful way. But now, now it felt deeper than that. Now, I felt like her protector. It was weird. I’d never experienced a feeling like this before. I ran my hand over her hair. Loving the lush, soft, silky feeling of it. “Let’s go to the living room,” I said as I stepped back.
“But I’m undoing your shirt,” she pouted.
I looked at her pink juicy lips. I just wanted to suck on them. “Come on, let’s go and sit down.”
“Harry, are you scared of me?” She giggled.
“Why would I be scared of you, Sarah?”
“I don’t know. I just want to undo your shirt because I want to see your chest.”
“Why do you want to see my chest?” I grunt. As I led her to the living room.
“Because it’s sexy and I want to touch and I want to kiss it.”
“Okay.” Then I laughed, feeling a warm feeling inside of me. I could feel my cock stirring in my pants. She had this immediate effect on me. Anytime she touched me or spoke to me in a sexy manner. I wanted her. “So, Sarah.”
“Yes, Harry?”
“I was thinking.”
“All you seem to be doing these days is thinking. Why can’t you stop thinking? Why can’t we start acting?”
“I mean, what do you want me to do?” I said, as she ran her fingers down my chest. Her fingernails scratched my skin and I loved it. I love the feel of her against me. I wanted her to be rougher, to be harder. But it was too soon to get too hard and too rough. She was innocent to the ways of lovemaking. And I wanted to ensure that her first time was soft and sweet and gentle. Even though I want it to be anything but. I chewed on my lower lip. As I realized, I’d made a one night packed with her. I made a packed where we would only make love one night. I already knew without having touched her yet tonight, that one night was not going to be enough. When I slept with Sarah, I wanted one week, one month, one year. In my mind, I heard a voice whispering one eternity and I shut that voice down.
“What’s wrong, Harry?”
Sarah blinked at me.
“You seem upset?”
“I’m not upset. I was just thinking.”
“What did I just tell you about thinking?”
“I know, I know I do too much of it.”
“Yes, you do! Oh, and by the way.”
“Yeah?”
“I was wondering if Ethan would be coming early to your family Christmas party?”
“Why?”
“Because, I saw him at the catwalk show the other day and he asked me...”
“He asked you what?” I said brusquely. “Did he ask you out? I will kill him if he asked you out.”
“No need to kill him.” Mary chuckled. “Oh, my gosh. I’ve never seen this possessive, jealous side of you before,” she grunted. I kind of like it.
“Of course, you would kind of like it because you’re crazy, Sarah.”
“I’m not crazy. You’re crazy, Harry.”
“I’m not crazy. Anyway, what did Ethan want?”
“No. He was just telling me about a friend of his or something, that worked in London.”
“Okay and?”
“And I was wondering if maybe he could introduce us.”
“Why would you want to be introduced to some random friend he has that works in London?”
“I don’t know,” she said softly, looking away. “Maybe if I get a job in London.”
“What do you mean if you get a job in London?” My heart started racing. “Did you apply for a job in London?”
“Not yet.”
“What do you mean not yet?” My heart started thundering and I could feel myself getting slightly agitated. “Are you looking for jobs in London, Sarah?”
“I’m not looking for jobs in London, per se. I’m just looking for jobs generally. But you know, as someone who is a history buff and he started the tutors, I feel like maybe the best place for me to be right now would be in England. You know, maybe I could get a job at the British Museum or...”
“You want to get a job at the British Museum?” I frowned. “But what about…” My voice trailed off.
“What about what?”
I said nothing. I let out a deep breath and stood up. “I’m going to get a beer. Do you want anything?”
“Maybe some water.”
“Okay. Hold on.” I walked to the kitchen and opened her fridge door. Just standing there thinking for a few seconds. What would I do if Sarah lived in another country that was unfathomable to me? Why would she move? Why would she want to break us up like that? Break what up, Harry? I said under my breath, you’re just friends. Even as I spoke to myself, I knew that wasn’t true. We’d crossed the line from friends no matter what either one of us had said.
I didn’t want her to leave. And yet, I couldn’t tell her not to leave. And the pure and simple fact of it was, she didn’t even have a job there yet. There was no actual leaving that was going to take place, but I didn’t even want her to apply. I didn’t want her making friends in London. I didn’t want her getting a job in London. I didn’t want her going anywhere. I didn’t want anything to change. I liked our life together. I like being able to see her every day. I liked spending weekends with her, and I liked the way that our friendship was heading. I liked kissing her. I liked sleeping with her. I like going to lunch with her. I like teasing her. I liked telling her my most intimate and personal thoughts. I like sharing with her what I did at my job. I liked hearing about her and what she did and how much she loved history and going to boring, crazy museums. And I wanted more than that. I wanted to be with her. I wanted, I want to love her.
I groaned. This was all turning out wrong. We hadn’t even had sex yet. And already I was finding myself emotionally connected to her in a way that I’d never been before. Already I was panicked and acting crazy and thinking crazy. And this was exactly the reason why I didn’t do relationships. This was exactly the reason why I didn’t want to get emotionally involved with anyone. I didn’t want my life to be turned upside down by someone else. I wanted my life to be carefree and easy and full of laughter and joy. And that’s what we’d had. That’s what we could still have. I knew in that moment that I couldn’t sleep with her. I knew that if I did, we’d be crossing the line, crossing a line that neither one of us could come back from.
And in that moment, it wasn’t her that I was worried about. It wasn’t her that I was worried would develop feelings that were too deep for me. It was me. I was worried that once I sunk into her, once I had her that I’d never be able to let her go. That she would be all-consuming in my mind. She’d be all-consuming in my life. And I couldn’t have that. I couldn’t lose my sanity. I couldn’t lose my sense of being. Not even for her. Not even if I wanted to. I needed to go home.
I closed the fridge door and walked toward the living room. “Hey Sarah,” I said. She was lying on the couch now. Her eyes were closed. I walked over and looked down to see that she was breathing softly. “Are you sleeping?” I said.
“No,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering open. And she yawns. “You’re tired. You should go to bed.”
“I’m okay. I can suck your cock still,” she said with a yawn and a laugh.
I stared down at my beautiful best friend and I laughed. “You’re such a goof, Sarah."
“No, I’m not.” She said blinking up at me.
“I was thinking I should go,” I said softly.
“I don’t want you to go. I want you to hold me, please?” she whispered, her eyes closing again.
“Okay.” I bent down and picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. I laid her down on the bed, pulled off her shoes and started to undo her dress.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Harry?”
She said with another loud yawn. “No. I’m just trying to get you comfortable for bed.”
“Okay,” she said. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I said. As I pulled off her dress and dropped it onto the ground, I pulled down the sheets and then tugged them over her and kissed her on the side of the cheek. Within a few minutes, she was snoring lightly. I sat at the edge of the bed and just looked at her. My beautiful, wonderful Sarah. My hilarious best friend.
I took off my shoes and pulled down my pants before taking off my shirt completely and getting into the bed and lying next to her. I could feel my heart pounding. I looked out of the window, but not at the night sky. I could see the lights on the street flickering. And all I could think about was the light in her eyes. And the way she looked at me. I pulled her into my arms and pressed her head against my chest. Her arm wrapped around my waist and she cuddled into me. We weren’t even being sexual. And it was still the most amazing feeling I’d ever had in my life. I rubbed her back lightly and I could feel myself falling to sleep as well. I was already in too deep, and I had no idea what I was going to do about it.