Chapter 9 Tequila Shooters

Nine months ago...

Allie

I woke up slowly, head pounding, and struggled to focus my eyeballs long enough to figure out where the hell I was, and why the hell I wasn't in my own bed. After a nanosecond, I decided the where and the why weren't important, and concentrated instead on the who, because there was a heavy arm around my waist, soft snores in my ear, and if I wasn't mistaken, an erection poking into my right butt cheek. It had been years since I'd felt that sensation, but I was pretty sure that was morning wood back there.

I wiggled slightly. Yep, that was morning wood all right. As that startling realization sunk in, my sluggish brain kicked into overdrive. Memories of last night fought their way out of the dark recesses of my cerebral cortex. Nico's house...movies...margaritas...more movies...tequila shooters...snuggling on the sofa and...then it was all a blur after that.

OK, this was Nico's media room, so I must still be on his sofa. That meant the hard cock back there trying to make friends with my ass belonged to...Nico. Oh, fucking crap on a cracker, what have we done??? I quickly noted that I was still fully clothed, and wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed - I would have to examine that train of thought more closely later. OK, so we hadn't actually done anything. Probably. I couldn't remember for certain, but I was quite sure that if I'd had sexy times with Nico, I would have remembered it, drunk or not.

Nico mumbled something unintelligible and shifted slightly in his sleep. His cock pressed more firmly against me and felt like it was even bigger than it was a moment ago, and it had felt pretty damned impressive then! I tried to shift my lower body away from his, but he clasped me tighter and ground into me, moaning softly.

Well, this was going to get very awkward, very quickly. Either he was going to wake up on his own and be embarrassed, or I was going to start ripping my clothes off, and then he would wake up and be embarrassed. We were just friends for God's sake. We ate together, watched movies together, took Gracie out together. Hell, we'd taken vacations together.

I'd even helped him pick out his house, and then decorated it for him when he hadn't liked any of the ideas the interior designer came up with. We were the best of friends who did everything together - platonically - and he had never shown signs that he wanted anything more than that from me. No lingering glances, no heated stares, nothing at all to indicate he had any desire to grind his cock into my ass and moan the way he just did. Clearly, he was so used to having women in his bed that grinding and moaning was something he could literally do in his sleep. It didn't mean anything.

Aside from being embarrassed to find himself in this situation, the poor guy would be traumatized if he actually woke to find me naked. I was a lot more woman than he was used to. I was relatively happy in my own skin, but it was just a fact. Nico had a thing for tall, skinny chicks with perfectly perky tits and asses you could bounce a quarter off of. The fact that the tits and asses usually had surgical help to be so firm and perky was neither here nor there.

My tits were larger than those of the Silicone Slutpuppies he seemed to favor, and well, gravity was a bitch sometimes. Mine were still perky-ish. My stomach bore the evidence that I had birthed an eight-pound, three-ounce baby - there were a few stretch marks, and the skin wasn't quite taut. My love of desserts and my dislike of strenuous exercise added to the little pooch left behind after growing another human. My hips and ass were bigger than the norm for women in LA, but they balanced out the afore-mentioned big perky-ish tits. Objectively speaking, my curves were fine, and even desirable by many standards. I just knew Nico's standards were different. I was saggier, jigglier, bouncier, and more dimpled that he wanted or was used to, and I tried to make myself believe I was OK with that.

As it happened, none of those scenarios actually came to fruition. No one was embarrassed, no clothes came off, nobody was scarred for life. Instead, my cell phone rang, loudly, and scared the ever-lovin' shit out of me. I screamed and Nico jumped and bucked up as if he'd been goosed with a cattle prod. His forward momentum knocked me onto the floor, and I landed in an ungainly sprawl with my face smooshed against the plush area rug. Oh, sweet Jesus, my aching head!"

"Why the hell are you on the floor?" Nico asked loudly, then winced, grabbing the sides of his head as if the sound of his own voice made his brain try to leak out of his ears. If his head hurt anything like mine did, that was a distinct possibility. "What the fuck happened?"

I slowly sat up and looked at him for a long moment, trying to formulate a coherent response to explain the shit-show we were currently starring in.

"Tequila shooters happened," I whispered finally, deciding that was really all the explanation required. We both had hangovers that would kill a mule, so it should be pretty self-evident, really.

By this point, my cell phone had gone blessedly silent. The ring tone was the one assigned to my mother's number, so I knew she was most likely calling so my daughter could say good morning to me. Gracie had spent last night with my parents so I could have a little bit of a break. I had been stressed lately, which made me irritable with everyone, which made me feel guilty, which made me more stressed. It was a whole thing, and I'd hoped that last night would help me break that cycle. Instead, I had apparently added horniness to the mix, along with the knowledge that my best friend was definitely blessed in his nether regions.

To top off this shit sundae, I was now grappling with the teeniest, tiniest fear that I was maybe - possibly - falling for my best friend. At the very least, I was falling in lust. Holy shitballs. This was not good. This was not good at all.

Nico turned and very slowly, very carefully walked out of the room, mumbling quietly about getting some water. I scraped myself off the floor and escaped to the bathroom, hiding in there as long as I reasonably could. I splashed cold water on my face and grabbed the Tylenol from the medicine cabinet next to the sink. I took the bottle with me into the kitchen, knowing Nico would need some as well. He was standing by the kitchen sink, gazing out the window into the back yard. He heard me walk in and turned to me, handing me one of the two bottled waters he had gotten out of the refrigerator. I took it gratefully and held the bottle of Tylenol out toward him.

"You are a goddess," he said, as he eagerly took the bottle and shook the medicine out into his palm.

I smiled awkwardly and gulped my water. Yep, that's me. A goddess with perky-ish tits and a jiggly ass. Ugh, this sucks donkey balls.

I suddenly needed to be anywhere but where I was. I grabbed my phone, shot Mom a text that I would be leaving in a minute and would call Gracie from the car, then told Nico I had to go.

Nico texted me that afternoon to make sure I had recovered from my hangover. He texted a couple of hours later, asking how Gracie enjoyed her sleepover with my parents. He texted me thirty minutes after that, asking if I was OK. Since I had studiously ignored all of the texts, he called me ten minutes later. I answered, finally conceding the fact that he would keep calling until I did. He was persistent when he wanted something.

"Hey," he greeted, sounding relieved. "I was beginning to worry about you. I've been texting you all afternoon."

I instantly felt guilty. He wasn't to blame for the fact that I felt uncomfortable with my new-found knowledge of the size of his cock. "Sorry," I said. "I had my phone on the charger and didn't hear it go off until you called." The phone had been on the charger, so at least it wasn't a total lie.

"No problem, I just wanted to make sure you were feeling OK, Sunshine. You didn't look so hot when you left earlier."

"I'm fine now, thanks. The Tylenol took care of the hangover. How are you feeling"

He chuckled, "Well, I survived, so I guess that's something. Remind me to skip the tequila shooters next time, though."

"No worries. I don't want to even think about tequila ever again."

I heard Gracie call for me from the bathroom. We were almost successful with potty-training, but she still needed help with finishing up. "Oops, Gracie's calling for me. I'm needed for butt-wiping duty. Gotta go."

He laughed. "OK, give her a smooch from me. Goodnight, Sunshine."

The next morning, I prepared our normal Sunday morning breakfast of pancakes - Mickey Mouse shaped for Grace - with bacon and fruit. I put my hot tea in one of my very favorite mugs, the one that said "I fully intend to haunt people when I die. I have a list." I had my playlist pulled up on my phone, and we were rocking out to Queen's "We Will Rock You". Gracie was in her booster seat at the table, patiently waiting for syrup-covered Mickey to appear before her.

"We will, we will, wock you!", she sang at the top of her lungs, a good beat and a half behind Freddie Mercury and me.

I laughed, and danced over to her, stomping my feet in time to the music. "Sing it, Gracie-girl". I put the plate in front of her and danced my way to the refrigerator to grab the apple juice for her sippy cup. She decided Mickey was much more entertaining than Freddie, so I finished the concert on my own.

Since it was such a nice day, I decided we would walk to the park a few blocks way. I needed to get out of this house for a little while, and mindlessly pushing my daughter on the swings sounded like a surprisingly good plan. I hadn't changed much around the house in the two years since Alex had died, and it was too full of memories this morning. I was already on edge with my reaction to Nico yesterday and being surrounded by reminders of Alex was making it worse.

In the clear light of day, my mind no longer clouded with tequila and bad decisions, I knew that this infatuation, or whatever it was, could never amount to anything. It was completely one-sided and beyond ridiculous to even contemplate. I knew Nico would feel uncomfortable if he ever suspected that I had any sort of feelings for him, so I would have to find a way to act like he was nothing more to me than a dear friend. Fake it 'til you make it, and all that shit.

I also wondered if I was actually falling for Nico, or whether I had been alone so long that I was simply starving for affection and the feeling of connection to another human being. I had gone on a few dates last year while the band was on tour but hadn't gone out with anyone a second time. A hug and a kiss on the cheek was the extent of the physical interaction at the end of the night. If I was honest with myself, I hadn't been ready to date, but I was just so lonely with Nico and the other guys being gone. Maybe it was time to honor Alex's wishes and open myself up to the possibility of finding love again. Just not with Nico.