Jisoo bombards me with questions the second I get into work.
I roll my eyes and walk past her to the back room, hanging up my coat and taking my apron off the hook before I head back out and begin making the few coffees already waiting for me by the machine. Luckily, there's a few more customers so I get to dodge the questions, giving me a little time to come up with some made up answers and gives me time to calm myself so I don't go into panic mode when she serves the last customer and fires more questions at me.
And it works, because after I make a venti skinny mocha with a shot of hazelnut and hand it over to the pretentious asshole who's talking on the phone about a piece of art he saw last night at a gallery showing, suddenly wishing I'd spat in his coffee as he just snarls at me and walks away without a thank you or a smile, I let out a long sigh and turn to my brunette best friend, starting a rapid fire exchange. She asks me about my family, my mom and cousins in particular, and then jokes about how hot Theo would find Rosé, and I just nod, trying not to seem to knowing about that topic.
The questions soon die out, and I do get a little suspicious toward the end because her voice suddenly gets a lot softer and she leans back against the counter, wiping over the whipped cream can in hand as she asks, "So it was a good weekend then?"
And it's not like Jisoo's not kind or anything because I know she'd ask me questions, but the way she's asking me is making something spike beneath my skin and blood rush to my face because I feel like I've been caught; even though there's no way she could know.
Though before I can even answer, the bell above the door chimes and I peer over the coffee machine to find bright brown eyes gleaming back on me as Rosé skips in, her ponytail swinging as she bounces through the store, not even bothering to wink at the guy she normally does. For a strange reason it makes me feel a little better─usually my stomach drops when she acknowledges that guy─so I just grin triumphantly and it's only when she's greeting Jisoo then throwing me a wink, out of Jisoo's sight of course, that I realize I still haven't answered my friend.
So I clear my throat, bringing my fist up to my mouth and knit my eyebrows together as my eyes flicker from left to right. "Yeah, it was pretty good," I finally reply, meeting hazel eyes again.
Jisoo studies me, her eyes narrowing further and further until she finally says, "Pretty good? Is that it?"
It's at that moment Rosé bounces in from the back room, her black polo tight around her torso, her grin bright and eyes sparkling as they meet mine, and I find myself not even bothering to use my filter, or even look back to Jisoo as I correct myself with, "Actually, it was incredible."
Rosé pauses from where she's stacking some paper cups and her eyes slide to mine, meeting them and filling my chest with warmth and happiness. I bite down on my lip, unable to hide my smile as my mind reels with memories of this weekend, of kissing her on the beach at sunset to falling asleep with her in my arms and her meeting my family and them falling in love with her to making love (because yeah, that's definitely what it was) to her in the dead of the night.
It was just amazing. All of it. And I have this tugging in the center of my chest that tells my, I want to go back and relive it again.
"Great," Jisoo finally speaks up and my face gets hot when I snap my gaze back to her, realizing Rosé and I were just staring at each other blatantly, but Jisoo seems none the wiser as she gets back to the counter and serves the next customer.
So I breathe out a sigh of relief, and for the rest of my shift, Rosé and I exchange bashful glances because I really can't think of anything that's wrong with my life.
***
A few days later, I get a text from Rosé asking me to come over, and seeing as I'm lounging around with papers spread around me, ones that I'm supposed to be reading but ones I just can't be bothered to read, I think why not and head on over.
(Not that I wouldn't if I hadn't had papers spread all around me, but I'm trying not to be so eager these days when Rosé asks me to come over because my feelings haven't changed and I'm not ignoring them, but I'm trying not to constantly think about them and it's kind of hard to do that when I'm leaping at the chance to see Rosé.)
So I take my time, casually strolling to her apartment instead of giving into the burning urge pulsing through my muscles to sprint there or get a taxi, and walk up the stairs instead of taking the elevator when I'm finally in her building. I'm cool, I don't lose my shit over anyone, no matter how I feel about them, and so I take in a few breaths before rapping my knuckles on Rosé's door and waiting patiently.
I really need to chill out and I know, preferably not fall even harder for her; I don't want to ruin my friendship with her.
Though the second she pulls open the door, I know that's not going to be possible. Every time I see her she somehow manages to take my breath away.
I offer a smile instead of a greeting, a smile that I know comes from the heart because I can feel my eyes beaming and she grins, a little dazed at me before reaching out, wrapping her hands around the lapels of my leather jacket and pulling my inside, kissing me before I can even say hello with words. It's slow, and gentle, and my hands drop to her hips, pulling her closer as she kicks the door shut and we both stumble a little further into her apartment, my tongue sliding into her mouth and producing the most arousing of noises from Rosé.
"Hi," she finally pants, heavy and hot against my mouth as she squashes our noses together.
I grin, a little dopey, and now I can feel her hand at the back of my neck, keeping our heads together. "Hey," I breathe out, unevenly.
She giggles and closes the space between us again quickly before stepping away and sliding her fingers through mine as she pulls me down the hallway toward the bedroom. It's only been a few days since we have been together alone, because I've had to study for an exam I've got coming up soon and Rosé's been covering Seokjin as he's off doing something boring with his hideous sweater vests, and so the only time we've seen each other was when we went over to Jisoo's for dinner or when we've shared a shift.
It's sucked because I haven't been able to kiss her in the way I wanted to for forty-eight hours, but I know that now is going to make up for it. Just by seeing Rosé and kissing her, it's already made up for it.
"I've missed you," I blurt out and Rosé blinks at me three times, processing the words before she reacts; her lips curving up and eyes sparkling.
"I've missed you, too," she replies and loops her arms around my neck, pulling me in as she ducks her head to kiss me.
We two kiss slowly, our lips just moving against each other until my hands begin stroking up and down her back, feeling her, touching her, moving over the curves I've memorized and worshiped, and then I realize that I haven't had Rosé in days; and it's not like I'm bursting from sexual frustration or anything, but it's really hard not to get worked up quickly when it's Rosé working me up.
I think she knows that too, because she doesn't jolt in the slightest when my hands slip down to her ass, pulling her hips into mine, instead she giggles into my mouth and goes with the movement. The sound is so infectious, so spine-chilling, but in the good way, that I kiss her a little deeper, my hands squeezing and repeating my previous movements until the giggles turn into breathy moans and her fingers are sliding through my hair and tugging at the roots — the tell-tale sign that she wants me and wants to get on with it.
And I go to do just that, crouching down just the slightest, with the intention of hooking my hands around her thighs and picking her up, allowing those long legs to wrap around my waist, but then she's smirking against my mouth and pushing lightly at my shoulders and I'm pulling back, the most confused expression face because I thought things were going that way. The bulge in my pants would certainly say that.
"What?" I ask breathlessly, knitting my eyebrows together and twisting my face as my eyes roam over hers. "I thought we were gonna..." I trail off, my head turning and vision flicking toward the bed.
"We are," Rosé nods and cups my neck, her fingers toying with the fine hairs at the back. "But first, I've got a surprise."
There's something seductive in her voice, and I feel it shoot straight to my groin until I can feel the physical ache, the physical need to get off hitting me hard in the gut. But I can't fight the curiosity that mixes in with the arousal because I like surprises. Especially when they're to do with beautiful blondes. No, scratch that, especially when they're to do with Rosé.
"A surprise?"
Rosé bites her bottom lip, smirking as she nods. "A surprise," she confirms through a breath and kisses me softly, sucking on my top lip. "So get comfortable and I'll be out in a second," she winks, trailing a finger down the side of my neck, along my collarbone and then through my cleavage, her eyes following the trail before she spins away and disappears into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door behind her.
I stand there for a few moments, your breathing hard and heavy and eyes wide because fuck, I am so turned on right now, but I finally kick myself into action and turn toward the bed, eying it. There's nothing special about it; there's no rose petals spread across it or candles lit up around the room, so I'm kind of relieved that I haven't forgotten anything—not that I have anything to forget like an anniversary because Rosé and I totally aren't together—but it's still perking my interest because I'm not sure what this surprise is.
Though I suppose staring at a bed isn't going to help figure it out, so I think about Rosé's words and how she told me to get comfortable and so I do just that; stripping myself down until I'm in my boxers and my bra. That's my kind of comfort, and I'm kind of getting the vibe from the way she kissed me and from the fact that we two haven't had sex since Sunday (and it's Wednesday) that this 'surprise' is where it's going to lead.
So I go ahead and climb on to the bed after switching off the lights. I rearrange the pillows against the headboard so I can lean against them, half-propped up and fold my hands across my stomach, letting them rest there as I glance around the room, waiting for her.
And it's only seconds later that the bathroom door's opening and a slither of light is beaming in, revealing and glorifying Rosé for all that she is; because she's standing there, white, silk robe hanging open, arm resting above her head on the door frame and the heel of her right foot pressed into the arch of the other, posing to show off what she's wearing.
Which holy fucking shit, is quite possibly the sexiest black lingerie set I've ever seen.
"Rosie," I breathe out, my mouth and throat running dry as I scoot toward the edge of the bed, throwing my legs off the side of it and balling the sheets in my fists, the need to hold her, to touch her, almost too strong. "Fuck."
It's the only word I can use to describe my feelings right now as my eyes roam over the body that must have been created by the Gods because I really don't know how to describe how I feel.
On one hand I know I'm fully hard and I'd like nothing more than to grab Rosé, rip the lingerie from her body and the boxers from my own and bury myself hilt deep within her to show her how she makes me feel; but on the other hand, I just want to stare and admire her because she's just so fucking perfect. I want to run my fingertips over her body, remember every freckle, every dimple, every twitch of her stomach and how her skin feels when I kiss it, how warm she feels beneath me; and I'm so torn between choosing that I just end up sitting there, mouth almost as wide as my eyes as I stare at her.
It's only when I hear a low, sultry chuckle that I snap back to reality and find Rosé coming toward me, her long legs winding in and out with grace as she saunters across her room, hanging her arms back and letting the silk robe slip from her skin and pool at her heels. Her eyes are dark and focused, and I gulp loudly as my gaze moves down her body again, taking in the sexy underwear that covers Rosé's most intimate places. And I know I'm staring, but I really don't care; not when she's stopping in front of me, presenting herself and letting my eyes do another trail of her body.
Except when I do it again, I take my time, starting from her feet and follow the line of her legs, taking in soft, pale skin and toned calf and thigh muscles. I move up, my eyes lingering on the small, silk panel covering the front of her and I ache to reach out and touch her. But she's so marvelous, so perfect that I fear if I press my fingertips to the silk, to the black lace that connects the back of her panties to the front, she'll disappear and wither away, because she's so beautiful she must be a dream.
So instead I just stare in awe until I can't stare anymore, and my hands are lifting and settling on her hips so lightly that later, I'm sure I'll wonder if I ever touched her, and my fingertips are stroking over her skin, smoothing around until I find a small, triangular silk piece covering the top of Rosé's ass, just like the front silk piece covers the front.
And it's a thing of beauty, it really is, because even though I've seen Rosé naked a hundred times over, there's something about seeing her in underwear that makes my groin tingle and toes curl; because I'm the only one to see these parts that are hidden.
They're mine, and okay, maybe they're not officially mine but neither of us have slept with anyone else for four months and that's enough to say that I'm the only one who sees behind these small pieces of silk.
Rosé smiles at me secretly, her breath just as swift and heavy as mine but I'm too busy finishing my trail, moving my gaze up the dip in her abs, between her cleavage and to the bra, which much like her thong, has silk panels covering the most intimate parts. Pieces of the fabric acts as the cup, covering the lower half of Rosé's breasts and her nipples, but it's strapless and the band that swoops around to connect it fully is black lace; but I honestly think it wouldn't matter what material it was or what it looked like... Rosé makes anything look amazing.
(Though I’m really appreciating this lingerie.)
Hands come down to settle over mine, keeping them where they linger around Rosé's hips and it urges my eyesight up until I'm staring up through my lashes at piercing, brown eyes. It makes me gasp, because she's staring at me with that intensity again, the one I saw right before we made love and it makes something lodge in my throat. It's going to take some time to get used to that.
"It's for you," is all that she whispers, but her voice is quivering with nerves and I watch the anxiousness flash across her features.
I pull myself to my feet, only realizing now how shaky my limbs are and breathe out unsteadily when I come face to face, a reassuring smile coming across my face as my hand pushes back a lock of her hair. I want to tell her that it's okay, but I'm feeling equally as nervous as she is and so instead of using words, I let my eyes drop to trail over her body one more time, taking her in, before I come back to her eyes, study the way her lips quirk like she wants to smile and then I bring our mouths together with a hand at the back of her neck and kiss her.
And just like that, all the nerves disappear and I walk her back to the bed, smiling against her mouth as I land on top of her.
***
When I'm taking off her thong a little while later, dusting kisses up her leg and watching her chest heave and eyes bore down at me from the top of the bed, her words come back to me and my lips still against the inside of her thigh.
It's for me.
I don't know why, and I have no evidence to show that it was what I’m thinking, but it just felt like she was telling me more, that she was giving me more than just her body and that very sexy (and most likely very expensive) set of lingerie. It felt like she was trying to tell me something without words; like the nerves she felt, the way her hands were quaking as they were settled over mine, weren't because she was standing there, showing something that was purposely bought for me; but rather because she was trying to show and give me something more.
Though my thoughts are swiftly interrupted when hands grab at my shoulders and tug me up, my body draping back over Rosé's. I look down at her, her lips swollen, hair tousled, skin flushed and it rips the breath straight from my lungs because I want what I'm thinking to be true. I want Rosé to tell me that she's for me; not just the lingerie, or her body, but that she's giving me her.
But before I can even process my thoughts, there's a hand winding around my neck, tugging me down to kiss and a hand making its way down my stomach and beneath the waistband of my boxers, fingers wrapping around my hard cock, stroking languidly.
And it's kind of hard to really think about anything else when she's doing that to me, but I know that right now, this is what I want.
I don't want anyone else touching me.
I don't want anyone else touching her.
I just want Rosé. All of her. Just her. For as long as time will allow.
And as I tilt my hips, slick heat encompassing me and covering my entire shaft as I push inside of her, and as I watch in awe as her head snaps back against the pillow, pleasure taking over her features, I realize I've got to make her mine as soon as possible.
But not tonight.
Tonight, I’m going to make love to her.
(What's the harm in waiting, right?)
***
I'm rudely awoken to the sound of my phone vibrating loudly on Rosé's bedside table.
I whine quietly, the grogginess tugging at my eyelids and I’m so fucking tempted to just leave it because I'm tired, I have work tomorrow and I've got Rosé pressed into my front so I'm more than good right now, but then I open my eyes and find that it's still pitch black and immediately I wonder who the hell it could be. And why would they be ringing me in the middle of the night?
So reluctantly, I wiggle my arm out from where it's trapped beneath Rosé's, slung over her waist and holding her against me, and pull back my hips, goosebumps immediately spreading across my bare body, to roll on to my back and grab at my phone. The light from the screen immediately blinds me, and I cover one of my eyes, thinking that'd help so I can focus on the caller ID and I swear this better be fucking good because otherwise I'm going to go ape shit.
But then I find Vernon's name flashing up on screen, and something seizes in my chest because I have a funny feeling I already know what's going on.
"Vernon?" I breathe, picking up the phone. "Vernon, what's wrong?"
"It's happening," he says and I blink. Shit. I was right. "It's happening, Lisa!"
He sounds all kinds of tired, but I can hear the underlying tone of excitement there and immediately bolt up right, completely untangling myself from Rosé as I process what's going on.
"She's in labor?" I squeak and I hear Vernon chuckle down the line, affirming my suspicions. "Holy shit!"
"She wants the gang here," he tells me and I see in my peripheral vision as Rosé stirs and rolls, her arm sliding across my lap and face nuzzling into the protrusion of my hipbone. "I know it's early, but can you come down here?"
I'm still a little groggy, but now my heart's racing a mile a minute because I have to admit, I've been waiting for this moment. Sure, I'm not exactly best buddies with Somi, but she's the first out of the gang to have a kid and that's a pretty big thing. I still can't believe the months have gone so quickly, but that's neither here nor there.
"Of course," I agree and stroke my free hand over Rosé's face, hoping to wake her a little. Although I do get a little distracted by how beautiful and peaceful she looks in her sleep and take a beat too long to answer. Damn it. "We'll be there as soon as possible."
Vernon thanks me, missing my little slip up of 'we', and we both say goodbye before I hang up. I throw my phone back on to the side table and shimmy my way back down on the bed, lying down and tugging Rosé's arm so she lies half on top of me. I know I should be getting up and getting dressed, but it's really hard to do that when Rosé's nudging her nose against my jaw, pressing a pacifying kiss to the underside and asking me in the cutest, sleepiest tone who was on the phone.
"It was Vernon," I whisper, stroking her hair with my left hand and smoothing my right hand up and down her arm which is draped across my chest. "Somi's going into labor."
In a split second, Rosé's jumping up, her hair tangled and eyes wide, and the sheet drops from her chest, revealing her in all her glory and I gasp, a little shocked by the sudden movement but prop myself up on my elbows, taking in the sight of all that pale skin. What I wouldn't do for another round right now.
"SHE'S IN LABOR!?" Rosé screeches, whipping her head around.
I chuckle, a little thrown off by the reaction but reach for her arm. "Yeah, babe," I blurt out the term of endearment without even realizing. "But calm down."
"SHOULDN'T WE BE GOING?" She continues, looking all kinds of distressed and I frown. Damn. She ain't the one having the baby.
"Yeah, but I didn't want to startle you with the news," I try to calm her down by pulling her back down and she sinks into my arms, cuddling up and staring up at me again as I lean over her. "But apparently that didn't work," I add, kissing her lightly on the nose.
She giggles and lifts her head as I back away to suck at my bottom lip for a few seconds. "We really should get going," she mumbles against my mouth before dropping her head back against the pillow with a sad smile.
I know, and so I roll my eyes and lean back down, kissing her once before completely pulling away and climbing off the bed to get dressed hastily.
And even though I would've preferred to just spend the rest of the night getting my cuddle on (and not necessarily in the sexy way) instead of going to the hospital at two o'clock in the morning, when Rosé beams an excited smile my way, I figure that okay, as long as I'm with her, I guess it's not that bad.
So we get dressed and leave, hand in hand as we head off to the hospital together.
(I don't even think about how we're going to explain why we turned up together.)