Page 4 of The Four Leaf

Naturally, Adrian caught me and had me pinned with nowhere to go, but still, I tried to duck away. He allowed me the brief courtesy of diving under his arms, but then snatched me around the waist and twirled me around. We ended up on the ground and began wrestling, not uncommon for us on a Tuesday. But somehow, I managed the delightfully rare scenario of ending up on top of him like Nala in the Lion King.

I yelled out my victory in time to be tossed on my back with him hovering over me like a predator about to rip their prey to shreds. But even with the thought of possibly being devoured, I never felt so alive. My heart was pounding, my nerves were on fire, and the excitement between us was palpable.

But then he ruined everything. His eyes did the thing you’d see in movies before a guy kissed the girl, and for a second–the sweetest second–my crush wasn’t one-sided.

I closed my eyes and puckered. I freakingpuckered.

Luckily, Adrian has always been a nice guy, even in fifth grade, and let me down easy. He rolled to the side, and suddenly aware of what was happening, I moved too, only right into the mud. I drenched myself in both filth and humiliation that day.

He helped me up, but gave me the name Stinky Sam, permanently etching in stone that we would never be more than friends. We’ve never talked about or even passively brought it up. So I guess there’s that.

“Acting like what, Sam?” Adrian’s voice is closer now, plucking me from my thoughts and into the realization he is only a few inches from me.

His broad frame blocks the bathroom light, casting us in a dark shadow. Just like when we were kids, his lids are lowered, his face titled, as if he plans to close the distance. My heart hammers in my chest, and a heaviness blooms low in my core, only this time, I don’t make the same idiotic mistake.

Instead, I push out a breath and my words. “You know like what.”

“I don’t think I do.” His tone is low, and husky.

I’m pretty sure at this point he can see the vein pulsing in my neck, but still, I’m able to steel my voice as I say what we’ve ignored for over fifteen years. “Like you were going to kiss me.”

Adrian’s eyes flash to my lips, then back up. “Would you have let me?”

“What?” I’m not sure the words are audible until he shifts his weight and moves forward.

“I’m curious. Would you have let me?”

Adrian isn’t the one to play wicked games, not when it comes to people’s feelings, so the notion he’s asking, with his lips three inches from mine, almost feels like a dream. Or a nightmare waiting to rear its head.

“Of course not. Why do you ask?”

His lips pull down in the corners, and he shrugs, backing away casually as if he wasn’t just suffocating me with want. “Only wondering, Bambi.”

Adrian snatches the shirt from the counter before gesturing to the sink again. “Now, have a look so you can buy me that drink.”

My Stinky Sam.

Most people don’t know this, but fear can be smelled as easily as it can be seen. It seeps into the pheromones and releases through sweat. It triggers a heightened response in the brain of those that smell it, and my Bambi smells fucking delicious.

The heavy arousal and excitement that flows from her anytime we’re around each other is both intoxicating and addicting. So much so, in fact, that Ialmost slipped up. Almost gave in to the powerful urges I always have to fight against.

Hell, if she would have said yes when I asked her if she’d let me kiss her back then, I don’t think anything could have stopped me from giving in and taking her now.

And I want to. So. Fucking. Bad.

Have for so long, I don’t remember a time I didn’t. Unfortunately, it isn’t just the fact I’m nervous we’d mess up our friendship if we pursued what obviously streams between us. Though in all honestly, I think we’re perfect for one another.

We share many commonalities while challenging each other when we can. Our conversations flow easily, and we usually don’t go long without laughing. We fit in all ways two people can, except perhaps one.

It’s my… rough nature, I’m worried about.

My needs and desires to be dominant and give in to very primitive and carnal urges are something I don’t think my sweet Bambi would like.

Any man I’ve seen her date is generally softer in nature, the suit type, and doesn’t know which direction north is without a phone.

I’m much different from that. I’m all hard edges and only wear suits when our team is required to attend a dinner. I thrive in nature, both physically, and well, sexually. I’m not sure when it happened. When a game of tag became a need to hunt. When finding Sam felt like catching prey. Or when the adrenaline turned into exhilaration and arousal.

But now, it’s part of who I am–a part I need. And not knowing if Sam will accept that is enough to make me keep her at arm’s length.

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