CHAPTER 3

Micah

For the next two hours, Bash and I were sweating and grinding to the music together on the dance floor, getting lost in the intoxicating atmosphere of loud music, gyrating bodies, and the debauchery taking place all around us. Honestly, if parents knew the shit their kids got up to in college they'd lose their goddamn minds and lock up their spawn forever. Anywhere you looked in the hazy room there were people making out, groping each other over their clothes (some under their clothes like we all couldn't see them…), and some people dragging their partners upstairs for the horizontal mattress mambo. Not that I'd know what that was like…

My experiences were limited to some intense make-out sessions and hidden handjobs in the dark corners of whatever party house I happened to be at that weekend. I had given one sloppy blowjob to a hot guy from my Cognitive Psych class last semester, but when it was done and I had stumbled to my feet, he had kissed me on the cheek, winked at me, and said "Thanks for the blowie, babe," before he traipsed back into the party without so much as a glance back. That was the last time I had indulged in any casual encounters with guys because when it came down to it, they weren't the one person I actually wanted. And fuck, did I want him.

But I couldn't justify staying a virgin forever, waiting for a man who was never going to see me as anything but his friend. I hadn't found anyone worth having sex with yet, but the few hookups I had were some of the only times outside of masturbating that I could entertain the filthy, unrealistic fantasies I had of Bash. I know it's a shitty thing to do, imagining another man while you're with someone intimately, but that was truly one of the only ways I could find to get through it. I had no real interest in being with other guys, and as they kissed and touched me in such a carnal way, my eyes would close and all I could see in my mind was Bash. Bash and his breathtaking emerald eyes that captivated me, heart and soul. I'd keep my eyes closed and pretend it was his lips on mine, his hands caressing my body, his moans in my ear. I would do this each time, and it would work…until we both finished and I came back to the bleak reality staring me in the face. They weren't Bash. No matter how much I craved it and prayed for it, it would never be Bash.

As I struggled to control the depressing thoughts streaming through my head, no doubt brought on by the three cups of Vodka Tonic I had consumed, I tried to concentrate on the music surrounding me and the wonderful man dancing in front of me right now. The same one who understood me like no one else could ever hope to…and the same one who was pounding back the booze like a reincarnated Spencer Tracy.

As Bash tossed back his fifth cup of whatever the hell he was drinking, I shot him a concerned look. "Hey BB, don't you think you should slow down? We still have to make our way back to my dorm later," I asked.

Bash just gave me a dreamy, drunk smile and said a little too loudly, "Nah MM, it's all good. I promise I'm not drunk or anything. I've got a handle on it." Yeeeah, somehow I seriously doubt that, but whatever.

"Okay B, whatever you say," I said cautiously. Bash and I had been to several parties during his visits to campus, so I was used to seeing him drunk, but he rarely got himself as trashed as he appeared to be right now. It was like a switch had flipped in him ever since the uncomfortable run-in with Lex earlier, and he was determined to drown himself in whatever drink made its way into his hand. Even though part of what Bash had done was mortifying to me, the other part was sexy as fuck. Bash had essentially stepped in to defend my honor when Lex had tried to ram his tongue down my throat. Not that anything would have happened regardless of Bash's interference, but still.

Lex had whispered in my ear that there was a free room upstairs where we could go for some "extra fun", and when I had told him that wasn't my scene, he had just laughed it off and said he had a way to convince me. I was so floored by his audacity that it took me a good minute before I realized he was kissing me, and by that time Bash had come and shoved him off me.

If I had been as tipsy then as I am now, I might have convinced myself that Bash was actually jealous of Lex. I mean, it made a certain amount of sense until I rationally thought about it and realized that it was just Bash being protective and possessive of his time with me. You know…because I was his best friend, and there's no way in hell he would ever be jealous over me. Isn't life just a big box of melted, fucking chocolates?

I was just about to suggest to him that we head over to my place when the music changed and I heard the provocative voice of Sam Smith through the speakers blaring around us. Bash and I had a safe amount of space between us considering the amount of bodies in the room, but as "Unholy" played lasciviously in the background, Bash closed the distance and slipped his left arm low around my waist, while his other hand landed firmly on my hip.

I was shocked into silence, unable to process the fact that he was touching me like this. "Umm, Bash, what…," I began to stutter before he shushed me in my ear.

"Easy M, just go with it. I like this song. Dance with me," Bash softly slurred. Either he was one hundred percent plastered at this point, or…nope. That's what it had to be. There was no way Bash would do this if his blood alcohol level wasn't approaching critical levels.

My breath caught in my throat as Bash started swaying his hips with mine, moving us slowly to the beat, our chests pressed together and the side of his head gently touching mine. Hot damn, could this man dance. Bash had a fluidity to his movements that would make Baryshnikov jealous, and the way he circled his hips into mine was making my dick jerk in my pants. Fuck, this wasn't good.

ABORT! Abort mission! My brain screamed at me.

But here's the deal; I couldn't stop him if I tried. Blame it on the alcohol as Usher so wisely suggested, or my stupid deep feelings for him, but I couldn't find the strength to remove myself from his arms. Him touching me like this, like he actually wanted me, was everything my dirty, NC-17 dreams were made of. Nothing short of death could pry me from him at this moment.

Yet I was an idiot, so I couldn't help but make sure he was truly okay with this and started to ask him. "Bash? Is this…"

"M, it's okay. I've got you," Bash whispered low to me. Just like in the kitchen when I felt his breath along my ear, I shuttered and goosebumps sprang to life across my body. God, was there anything he did that wouldn't light me up like a fucking Christmas tree?

I prayed that Bash hadn't noticed my reaction to him, but that hope was dashed to hell with his next words. "You okay, M? Are you feeling alright?" Bash asked softly.

"I…I…," I stammered, but Bash yet again cut me off, asking, "Or is it because of me? Are you shivering because of me, baby?"

RECORD. SCRATCH. What the fuck did he just call me?

As was becoming the standard of the night, I was stunned and no words came to the surface. It had to be the drinks at this point because there was no realm in which that made sense to me. Bash calling me baby? Was I having a psychotic break? Did I finally need to go on anti-psychotics as my thoughts of him progressed into full on delusions? That would be par for the course for me, so it tracked.

Bash must have taken my silence wrong because he quickly pulled back from me, a worried look marring his features. "Shit, I'm sorry, M," Bash anxiously said. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Fuck, I guess I'm way more sloshed than I thought I was. It's probably time for us to call it a night."

In the blink of an eye, the perfect moment we had was shattered. Though I knew it was impossible for Bash to really mean anything he just said or did to me as we danced, my foolish brain latched onto the memory of his hands on my body and the way he called me "baby". If there was any progress I had made in banishing my love for Bash, it was all blown up on impact by that single devastating, wonderful word.

"Uh, yeah…yeah, I guess it's a good idea for us to go," I reluctantly agreed. Bash gave me a tight smile, and grabbed my hand to drag me through the house to the front door. Once we were on the way back to my dorm, a tense silence descended on us. That shit was unusual in and of itself because I couldn't remember a time where a silence between us was anything more than comfortable and peaceful.

Holy fuckballs, I didn't screw anything up with us, did I?...

I surreptitiously looked over at Bash to see if I could tell what he was thinking. It wasn't hard for me to read him most days, but it must have been his inebriated state that kept me from figuring out how he was feeling. "Bash, you doing okay over there?"

He swung his head toward me and his eyes seemed conflicted and distracted. "Yeah, MM, everything's good," he assured me. Okay, so why didn't I believe him? I wanted to ask about his comment to me while we were dancing, but I was a coward and didn't think I could take it if he voiced what I already knew. I knew that he was just in the moment with the booze, dancing and music, but it still would have hurt on a different level if he were to put it to words.

In the dorm elevator, the small space seemed to amplify the tension building between us, and when we finally made it back to my room, I felt like I had ants crawling under my skin.

"Bash, did I do something wrong? You've been quiet since we left the party, and things feel…weird as fuck right now. Are you sure we're okay?"

God, I don't think I could handle it if I screwed things up between us by allowing him to dance with me like that. Then of course there was my frozen shock that probably convinced him I took offense to that lovely, troublesome term of endearment. I had this sinking feeling deep down in my gut that this was not going to end well, and that thought alone made me nauseous.

Bash had started peeling off his socks and shoes, and clumsily stumbled over to the small couch we had in the middle of the shared common room. He dropped onto the seat and slumped forward so I couldn't see his eyes. "Nothing's wrong, M. I'm just…fuck, I don't know. I think I'm just tired and all the stress of the last couple of months is hitting me all at once."

"Umm, that's the bullshittiest bullshit I've ever heard. Bash, you weren't tired twenty minutes ago at the party, and you haven't mentioned being stressed once in the last two months. Why the fuck won't you give me a straight answer?" I said sharply.

Bash's head snapped up, his green eyes flaring with annoyance and was that…maybe fear? "I'm not bullshitting you, Micah. I'm honestly just tired. Why the third degree?" he retorted.

I was dumbfounded. "Since when do you call me Micah? And I'm not trying to give you the third degree! I just want to know why my friend is suddenly acting like he wants to be nowhere near me right now."

"M, seriously, leave it alone," Bash growled.

"Leave what alone? Does this have to do with what you called me on the dance floor? Are you having some sort of straight dude freak-out because you called another guy baby?"

"I'm not freaking out…," he murmured, again not making eye contact with me.

"Then why can't you look me in the eye and give me a real answer, B?" I snapped, my voice raising slightly. Bash just groaned and sunk his head into his hands.

I thought that would be where we ended it, our first real fight. This was putting me on edge like nothing else. Bash and I didn't fight! This wasn't like him. Nothing good could possibly come of this, and I was growing more anxious by the second. Then Bash took a deep breath and slowly raised his head until his eyes met mine. We stared at each other for several heart-stopping moments and I waited with baited breath to see what would happen next.

"Goddammit…," Bash muttered almost under his breath before jumping off the couch and charging toward me. I didn't know what to expect from the sudden movement until Bash grabbed my face and slammed his lips on mine.

And in the space of a heartbeat, my world flipped completely on its axis and I was burning alive. But Bash seemed intent on burning with me, and what a way to go.