Till There Was You

Till There Was You [ 1 ]

Whipped . . .

Truth be told, I've never like that word, but oddly enough, right now, being associated with such a term doesn't seem to bother me at all. So long as she is in my life, nothing else seems to matter.

"Do you think she'll like it?" I ask as thoughts of tonight's confession come to mind.

A few days ago, I told Claire about my plan. I didn't disclose all that there was to know; I just shared enough details to give her a good idea of everything that would take place. And it's because of this that I'm pretty sure she'll say—

"No."

No? I blink over and over again, dumbfounded. Did I hear her right? For my sake, I sure hope not. I'm already a big bundle of nerves as it is that the slightest doubt that she may not like any of it does nothing but make me want to give up and cut my losses before anything even begins—

"Whoa, easy there boy," I hear Claire say. "You're getting it all wrong."

But am I? Am I . . . really?

Standing up from the bed, she makes her way over to where I am and comes to a stop beside me. Her petite five-foot-four frame is instantly dwarfed by my lofty six-foot-two presence. "She'll love it," she goes on, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder and flashing me one of her trademark dimpled-beams.

"You really think so?"

She nods. "I know so."

Claire has always been like this: a good friend

Come to think of it, in all the years I've known her, not once has she ever not been here for me. Whether if it was with comforting hugs, encouraging words, innocent pecks on the cheek, or uh, you know, the occasional box of tissues when no one else was around to witness me at my lowest, Claire has always been by my side whenever I've needed her. And given our circumstances (the two of us living separate lives since graduating high school), such a feat is most definitely something out of the ordinary for people our age.

A blessing in disguise – that's what my mom likes to call my bond to Claire. At first, I didn't think much of it. But now, as I look back on the entire thing, I can't help but laugh. My mom was pretty much spot on about my best friend and me; having someone like Claire in my life has without a doubt been a blessing. So much so that I wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for her.

"Oh, Claire," I coo, tugging her to me with one hand and disheveling her dark hair with the other. "You're so sweet; you're going to give me cavities one day."

"야!" Claire shouts, struggling to break free from my hold. "Knock it off, Montoya!"

"Nah, I don't think I want to just yet," I tease.

She groans. "You know, just 'cause you have a dick doesn't mean you've got to act like one too."

"Sheesh, Claire. You sure do have a way with words . . ."

"Let go of me, nimrod!" she yells, attempting to jab an elbow into my stomach.

Fortunately, before she can land a good shot, I dodge to the side and she misses entirely. "Ask nicely," I tease.

She refuses at first, but eventually, she gives in, forcing out through gritting teeth a strained, "Please?"

I grin at her concession, but in spite of it all, I refuse to let up. "Your plea holds no value unless you mean it, small fry."

She glares up at me, her sights narrowing, her brows scrunching together. "Small fry?" she scoffs. "I used to be taller than you."

I snort. "Yeah, but that was like, what, back in middle school?"