Page 11 of Illicit Desires (The Deepest Desires 3)

Eventually, I pushed it into the back of my mind. Chalked it up to puberty and it being a confusing time. It wasn’t until later on in high school when I started noticing other guys, being sexually attracted to them, that I realized it probably wasn’t something I outgrew, and it wasn’t just puberty. I was bisexual and attracted to my best friend. That realization fucked me up. Anderson is straight, and he’s been my best friend my whole life. Our friendship is the most important thing in my life.

And so, my confusing, inappropriate feelings for Anderson were shoved down until they were nothing more than a faint memory because our friendship is more important than my crush. I barely even remember those times anymore, but every once in a while, something will happen—like this song playing—and it’ll all come crashing back, front and center in my mind. Reminding me what I could lose if he ever found out how I felt.

Cranking the volume up, the rest of the drive is spent getting lost in the music and doing my best to get my mind off the ugly demon in my mind telling me I’m not good enough, that Anderson’s going to come to his senses and leave me. It’s about six-thirty when I’m pulling up outside. It’s the first time I’ve been to their house, but I have been to Knox’s house, which is across the street.

The houses on this block all look very similar. Various shades of creams, yellows, and blues, all look to be two-stories. Some have picket fences surrounding, but this one doesn’t. It’s a soft yellow and has steep, concrete steps leading up to the wrap-around porch. The yard is well-maintained with healthy green grass. I’m assuming the landlords hire someone to do the lawn. The front of the house has two large arched windows and a screen door that’s currently propped open.

Knocking on the front door, a pretty brunette in an apron comes to greet me. From pictures on Instagram, I already know she’s his girlfriend. A warm, wide smile spreads on her face.Of fucking course, she has dimples and nice teeth.Bitch.

“Hi!” she says cheerfully, bringing me in for a hug. “You must be Crew. I’m Calina, Anderson’s girlfriend.” She smells like peach and her chipper voice is laced with a faint Russian accent.

“Uh, yeah. Hi. That’s me. Nice to meet you.”

“Come on in. The guys are in the living room watching the game. Dinner’s almost done.”

Why is she talking to me like she fucking lives here? Already don’t like her. Giving her a fake smile, I follow her into the house. The living room is to the left, off the entryway, and sure enough, Anderson, Knox, Aston, and even Weston are in there, eyes glued to the TV mounted on the wall.

“’Sup, fuckers,” I say, going to sit on the recliner next to the couch.

“Hey, bro. You made it,” Anderson says with a genuine smile on his face. “How was the drive?”

“Long as fuck, but aside from the 405 traffic, it wasn’t bad.”

“Hey, boys. Dinner will be ready in twenty.” Calina is standing in the doorway, housewife apron on and a spatula in her hand.Is she fucking serious?

“Thanks, baby girl.”

Baby girl?I just threw up in my mouth.

“Hey, can we go talk for a minute before dinner is ready?” One of the main reasons I wanted to come down here this weekend is to talk to Anderson. Shit’s been different with us lately and I don’t like it. We aren’t talking as much anymore, and I can’t help but feel like it’s because of something I did.

“Uh, yeah, sure. We can go up to my room.” Turning to the other guys in the room, he tells them, “Yo, we’ll be right back.”

The stairs are across from the living room, on the other side of the entryway. They’re carpeted and have a dark wooden banister, reminding me of a house out of some childhood sitcom. The entire upstairs is carpeted too.

Anderson’s room is the last door on the left, and as he twists the brass doorknob and the room comes into view, my senses are overwhelmed with a scent that is just so Anderson. A mix between the light, woodsy cologne he wears on occasion and freshly cleaned sheets. His queen-size bed is by the window with gray and white bedding, a single nightstand next to it, and a desk on the opposite side. It’s not a massive room, but it’s plenty spacious for all his stuff.

He goes to sit on his bed while I take the desk chair, swiveling it to face him. His leg is bouncing, and he’s biting the inside of his cheek. His forest green eyes connect with mine and he clears his throat. “So, what’s up? Everything okay?”

My mouth is suddenly dry as fuck, and my stomach does somersaults. I’m nervous as hell, but I don’t know why. It’s just Anderson. Probably because we’ve never had to have a talk like this before, and there’s not much else I hate more than allowing myself to be vulnerable.

“That’s, uh, kind of what I wanted to ask you.”

His brows draw together, cocking his head as a tattooed hand comes up and rubs the back of his neck. “What do you mean?”

My pulse kicks up, blood whooshing in my ears. I’m suddenly regretting this conversation. I’m going to sound so stupid to him. His pathetic fucking friend who’s too needy. It’s no wonder he’s pulled back from me.

Running my clammy palms down the front of my jeans, I focus my gaze on the bed beside him. Eye contact suddenly becoming impossible. “Well, uh, things between us have just felt… weird the last couple months. Did I, uh, do something?”

“What? No!” he exclaims, his head rearing back in my peripheral. “Look at me, Crew.”

Letting out a shaky breath, I shift my gaze over to him. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek again, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “You haven’t done anything, man. I’m sorry I’ve been weird lately. I’ve been stressed with school and shit, but I didn’t mean to push you away.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, barely above a whisper. I don’t trust my voice to not crack if I speak any louder. Why am I so fucking emotional about this?

“Positive. You’re my boy. Always will be. Sorry for making you think differently.”

Relief floods through me, my shoulders relaxing as I let out a shaky laugh. “Okay, cool. Really cool. I just—you’re my best friend, and I can’t lose you.”

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