Page 22 of Just Friends
She squeezed me even tighter, too, our bodies meeting from thigh to chest. Her round breasts smooshed against my chest with soft, jiggly awesomeness. What can I say? I’m a guy—tits rule, even if they do belong to a friend …bestfriend.
“Ahem.” I tapped on her shoulder. “Excuse me, miss.”
She looked up at me with innocent eyes. “Hm?”
I glanced down at her cleavage. “Your boobs are allup in my business.”
“Jax!” She wriggled her way out of my arms and gave me a playful shove. “Why’d you have to go there?”
“I waskidding,” I said with a laugh.
“Yeah, right.” She threw herself into the sofa with an eye roll and a groan. “It’s not like I can help it.” She folded her arms, hiding her chest. “My breasts are just there, you know? Where are theysupposedto go when I hug somebody?”
“I know, I know.” I laughed some more. “I’m sorry. I was only joking around—really, I didn’t mind it.”
Actually,the big, dumb, chest-thumping caveman inside me thought,I kinda liked it.
“Yeah? Well, too bad for you.” She turned her nose up. “Because now I’m never going to hug you again.”
“Hey, you don’t mean that.”
“Oh, I absolutely do. Because I’d hate to get my ‘boobs’ all up in your ‘business’ again,” she said, making the air quotes with her fingers.
I sat on the couch next to her and leaned my shoulder against hers. “I’m sorry,” I said, nudging her knee with mine. “Can we try a do-over?”
“You’re asking for another hug?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Nope. Sorry. You already ruined the first one.”
I moved closer and tried to steal a hug, but she stiff-armed me and tried to keep me away.
“No!” she squealed, laughing and struggling to fight me off. “Nooo!”
It didn’t take long before I overpowered her. She surrendered with a defeated sigh—“okay, fine”—letting me squeeze her with a good side-hug.
I held her tight until she finally leaned into me and hugged me back.
Then we both had a good laugh.
“You’re such a jerk sometimes,” she said.
“I know. Hey. Sorry I ruined your hug.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just bring me my biscuits and gravy, will you? I’m hungry.”
“Sure thing.”
I got up to fetch our plates from the dining room table. Once there, I paused and glanced at Paper from across the room. She stared into the distance, smiling and shaking her head. I was still smiling, too—until some part of me, deep down, began to wonder,
Why do I do that? Why do I always ruin those moments with her?
But another part of me quickly pushed that voice back down where it came from.
Whatever, it was just a joke.
7
