19. Hallie

Iconsider myself very lucky to have a best friend like Madeline Peters, but right now as she fusses over me after what happened downstairs, I am barely even listening to her. No, instead I am reeling from all the events of the last few hours. From the fight at the rink, to the run in with Joey, then the confrontation downstairs with Brianna. Yet all of those are overshadowed by the fact that he just almost kissed me. Josh Peters, my best friend since I was nine, and the boy I have loved ever since, almost kissed me.

He almost kissed me.

My gaze flicks from his sister to him, finding him still idling by his open bedroom door, not looking anywhere near as freaked out as I currently am. Why would he be freaked out? From the things those girls were saying, a barely not even happened kiss is probably nothing on his radar. My mind is swamped with the things Brianna and them were saying about what he likes, about his need for control and dominance to get off, and all I can do is compare it to how gently he just leaned down to kiss me.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to run and get you another top to wear?” Maddie asks, cutting into my thoughts, and my stare snaps back to her, already shaking my head.

“Mads, seriously I’m fine, it was just a drink.” I gesture to the shirt Josh gave me. “Besides I don’t exactly feel like going back downstairs after that,” I add, my skin still burning from the embarrassment and the feeling of the wet fabric clinging to me like a second skin.

In truth, it took everything in me not to react or show emotion, and if it wasn’t for Josh being at my back, then I think I would have broken down and cried in front of everyone.

“I can’t believe that bitch threw a drink on you,” Maddie snaps, and I can’t help but smile, as I flop down onto the end of Josh’s bed, with her following suit.

“I can’t believe you hit her,” I laugh, still surprised by the fact that my best friend threw down like that.

“You’re crazy if you think I was letting her get away with that,” she tosses back, flicking her hair effortlessly, and I think I surprise us both when I reach out and throw my arms around her neck.

“Thank you, Maddie, you’re a great friend,” I mutter into her hair, and it’s a few seconds before her arms finally return the hug.

When she pulls back she looks a little emotional, but she hides it with a smile. “Do you want to go home and eat ice cream while we watch some old Grey’s Anatomy?”

My eyes instantly flick to Josh who looks conflicted, and I find myself about to say yes, but then he beats me to it. “She’s sleeping here tonight,” he says with finality, and Maddie shifts her stare between the two of us now, as if she is finally sensing some of the tension she interrupted when she came up here.

“Okay,” she drags out with a weird smile, rising to her feet. “Then I guess Nova and I will have the house to ourselves tonight,” she tells me with a wink, as I follow her towards the door.

“Yeah, like that stops you, I can hear you guys through my damn ear defenders,” I toss back and she giggles, knowing full well I’m not joking.

“Okay, please get the fuck out,” Josh groans, still holding the door open for her, and it only makes me laugh right along with her.

That is until she bids us both goodbye and is gone in an instant, Josh shutting and locking the door behind her, until we are alone again. That’s when I realize the tension is still there, and not just that, but an awkwardness too, one we have never had between us before, and I already can’t stand it.

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” I rush out quickly, moving to snatch up my overnight bag and flooring it into his bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me.

Only then do I breathe fully for the first time since he almost kissed me, and still I almost choke on it. What the fuck am I going to do now? What is the protocol when your fake husband almost kisses you?

Not able to answer either of those questions, I just focus on getting ready for bed, stripping out of his shirt and my jeans, and then discarding my underwear, opting for a quick shower to erase the stench of Brianna’s cocktail. I don’t take my usual contemplate and cry shower, not wanting to freak Josh out with how long I am taking, and instead just wash my body as fast as I can, and then make quick work of getting dry.

By the time I have gotten dressed and brushed my teeth, I am so filled with anxiety and a nervous tension, that I almost wish I had taken Maddie up on her offer to go downstairs so I could have drank some more. Deciding that I am just being ridiculous, and that the almost kiss meant nothing, I fling open the door to find Josh lingering near his desk, and as soon as I step out of the way he mumbles something about a shower and slips into the bathroom, closing the door behind him before I can even say a word.

Well I guess that answers the question on how we are going to deal with this. Avoidance is key right?

I move towards the bed with the idea of just getting in it and going to sleep only to stop dead in my tracks, taking in some things that definitely weren’t here when I went into the bathroom. There is now a fan sitting on the nightstand, an eye mask with matching ear defenders placed neatly on my pillow, and even a stuffed penguin similar to Percy that I have never seen before.

My eyes scan the rest of the room, and I notice the closet door slightly ajar, and when I investigate I find discarded boxes for all the items that indicate they are all brand new. No, there is no way he bought these just for me, yet when I lean down I find a receipt on the floor, and when I read it I can see that he ordered all these items the day after we got married. The morning after I stayed here for the first time and complained about how hard I find it to go to sleep, and my heart beats wildly in my chest. That feeling is only intensified when I flick my eyes around the rest of the closet and they land on a stack of books up high on his shelf.

Even from here I can see they are heavily tabbed, and with my curiosity getting the better of me, I lean up on my tiptoes to grab them. When I glance down at the titles there is no hope left for my beating heart.

What is Autism?

Girls and Autism

The Autistic Mind

Again I could try and convince myself he didn’t get these for me, but as I flick open the first one, I find his name neatly scrawled across the first page.

Josh Peters, Age 11

The age he was when we met.

Tears burn in my eyes at the thought of him not only buying these, but also reading them enough to tab them, and when I continue to flick through the first one, the emotion thick at the back of my throat only increases.

Make sure to explain jokes if she doesn’t understand them.

Explain exactly what you mean when you talk.

Loves loud music.

Hates getting her clothes wet.

Crunchy foods are best.

Likes to reread books and rewatch movies.

Collects penguins.

Subtitles on when she is watching TV

There is tab after tab marking countless paragraphs, all with his own little notes added next to them, and it leaves me totally and utterly speechless. It’s then I hear the sound of the shower cutting off, and I rush to put the books back on the shelf in the same position as before, not wanting to be caught snooping. Then I pull the closet door back closed and rush back over to the bed.

I grab the eye mask and ear defenders and pull back the sheets, eyeing the wide open space, and it’s only then I remember the position we found ourselves in the morning after our wedding night. And it’s with that thought in mind that I grab his extra pillows and build a wall between both sides of the bed, until I am satisfied I won’t wake up rubbing all over his dick again.

Then I dive into bed with the new penguin, my mind still baffled about what I just saw in his closet. It’s not just his attention to detail with the things he bought to make it easier for me to sleep here, but everything else too. He has books on autism, on girls with autism, and he doesn’t just have them, he’s read them. He’s read them and tabbed them, and I can only presume it’s for no other reason than to really know and understand me.

We have a great friendship, and I nearly threw it all away by letting him kiss me. That’s the thought that is swimming in my mind when he opens the bathroom door and steps out, the steam surrounding his bare chest, as my eyes dip down to the V in his torso.

I don’t know what’s worse.

The fact he almost kissed me, or the fact I wish he would have.

He moves around the bed, not saying a thing about the additions he acquired, as he tosses his laundry in the basket, and then eyes the wall of pillows with a smirk. “Is that so you don’t violate your husband with your ass again?” he asks, cocking a brow at me.

“No, it’s so you don’t come onto my side of the bed again,” I snap, feeling grateful that we can just seamlessly fall back into our usual routine.

“I thought we established that both sides of the bed are mine,” he purrs, shutting off the light so there is only a soft glow from his lamp, as he climbs in beside me.

Ignoring his manly scent fresh from the shower, I keep my eyes firmly on the ceiling. “Carry on with your sass, and your wife will send you back to the floor with your sleeping bag.”

Josh turns on his side and I can feel his stare on my face from beyond the pillows. “You want me down there on my knees again then all you have to do is ask, Hals, I’ve told you this.”

A smirk threatens to burst across my face as I throw back, “Manwhore.”

“Brat,” he replies

“Asshole,” I toss back.

“Drama queen,” he adds, and I swear I can hear the lightness seeping back into his tone.

I shake my head in delight. “Goodnight, Mr. Peters.”

He reaches over and turns off the lamp as I pull down my mask before he replies, “Goodnight Mrs. Peters.”

And even the deep thump of the bass still blasting below us couldn’t stop me from falling asleep happily tonight.

Silence lingers for I’m not sure how long, but it’s long enough for either of us to fall asleep, until, “Hallie,” he whispers into the dark, and I wish I could pretend I am asleep and ignore him, but I can’t.

“Yeah, Joshua?” I whisper back in the blackness of his room, holding my breath for whatever he is about to say.

“I’m sorry I tried to kiss you,” he tells me earnestly, his apology like a knife to the gut, and I am grateful he waited until now to say it, so the lack of the light can hide my tears.

I take a few slow, quiet breaths, before I finally force lightness into my tone and ask, “You mean tonight, or that day on the rock when we were kids?”

My answer only makes him laugh, one of my favorite sounds in the entire world, as I feel him shrug, “Both, I guess.”

Tears stain my skin as I smile into my pillow, at the fact he is finally admitting trying to kiss me back then, and like an addict unable to quit their much needed fix, I snuggle into the new penguin he bought me and reply gently, “Then I guess I’m sorry for pushing you off that rock.”

He doesn’t respond, and I wait until I hear his breathing even out before I let myself drift off to sleep, and unsurprisingly it’s to dreams of almost kisses, and a boy who has always owned my heart.

When I wakeup the next morning, I feel slightly less disoriented than last time, but as I slip off my eye mask, I still have to remind myself where I am. Thankful to have not woken up giving my husband a lap dance, I flick my stare to his side of the bed and find it empty. The time on the clock on his nightstand reads a little after nine, and I can only assume he must have gotten up to grab a coffee or something.

I climb out of bed and head to the bathroom, ear defenders still in place, as I curl my fingers around the door handle, and push inside. Which is where I come face to face with my husband. My very naked and wet husband who has his head thrown back, his eyes closed, and his hand on his very erect cock. And like the slut I am, all I can do is stand and stare as he strokes his fist up and down his length in what is nothing short of a porno.

Water clings to his skin as the shower cascades over him, and he’s got one arm leaning on the wall, and the other wrapped around his dick as he thrusts into his fist again and again. I know I should leave, that this is a major invasion of privacy, and though my head is screaming at me to turn around and shut the door, it seems my feet aren’t getting the message.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, and it’s deep and guttural, as he strokes himself hard and fast, his hips rolling towards his hand like he is imagining anything but.

Every part of me is on fire, and I must make some sort of noise, because all of a sudden his eyes fly open, landing on me instantly, as my name rips from his throat in a moan.

“Hallie.”

Fuck. Busted.