More Than Friends

Chapter 9: Brady

He slid his motorcycle into a parking spot near the bar’s entrance, yanked off his helmet, and walked inside. It smelled dank and yeasty, and his black boots crunched across peanut shells on the floor. He saw her sitting on her usual barstool, a drink in front of her. He sidled up next to her and sat down.

“Hey,” he said, running a hand through his shaggy hair.

“Hey yourself,” she said, looking at him with her wide blue eyes, taking in his rugged appearance, giving him a look of eager wanting.

He motioned to the bartender and ordered a shot of whiskey and a beer. She ordered another drink for herself. He shot the whiskey with a quick toss of his head and drained half his beer in a few swallows.

“Come here often?” he said in his gravelly voice.

She laughed and her golden curls rippled down her back, “Only every night.”

She slid her hand onto his leg, running it up the middle of his thigh, rubbing her hand up his zipper a few times. He ran his finger gently along her arm, up her shoulder to her mouth. He parted her lips with his finger, and she sucked it, never breaking eye contact. He glided his finger down her neck, slipping the strap of her tank top off her shoulder, exposing her n****e, and rubbing it between his fingers.

She inhaled a breath of air and let out a quiet moan. Turning her stool to face him, he pulled off her top and sucked her n*****s while she threw her head back. He stood up and picked her up underneath her shoulders, setting her on the bar in front of him. He snapped his fingers and the few patrons who were in the bar immediately left so they were alone. He shoved her skirt up around her legs, spread her wide in front of him, and ripped off her underwear.

He bent down and kissed her gently at first, then urgently, sucking her until she came in his mouth. Before she could catch her breath, his pants were down, and he was inside her. She wrapped her bare legs around his rough jeans, pulling him deeper inside her.

Brady woke up with a start, bathed in sweat, his erection straining painfully against his boxers. It took him a few seconds to realize that he was in his bed, alone, and that he’d had the dream again. His body screamed for release, and he pulled his boxers down, pulling his hard shaft into his hand, stroking up and own until he shuttered with relief.

He had some version of this dream several times a week and had for years… about seven years to be exact. It started, not surprisingly, right around the time that he met Charlotte.

At first, the dreams had been sweet and innocent. In one version, they were in her dorm room studying, their hands touched, and then one thing would lead to another and they would be making love atop her duvet. Or they’d be watching a movie and she would inch her hand closer to his until they were holding hands, then she would look up at him and he would kiss her, and then suddenly they’d be in each other’s arms.

As the years went on, the dreams ratcheted up a notch. They would be studying outside on the green when she would take off her top, lie on her stomach, and ask him for a massage; while he was rubbing her back, she would roll over, her breasts exposed, and he would keep the massage going until the inevitable happened right there in the middle of the quad. He even had a series of dreams where he would be sitting behind a desk and she would be crouched under it, giving him secret blow jobs while he tried to carry on conversations with people in his office.

For the past few years, as he learned more about the things that turned her on, his subconscious would cast himself in the roll of the sexy, bad boy who was endowed with tremendous s****l confidence and took her in any number of ways from bar tops to beaches to dance floors.

He didn’t need a therapist to tell him what these dreams meant but would really love someone to help them stop. No matter what the dreams consisted of each time he would wake up right before he orgasmed with a throbbing erection. It made him crazy because he could never help it or control them, so he ended up just feeling frustrated and sometimes they left him seething with a roiling, pent up anger.

He got up to clean himself off and splash water on his face. He had to find a way to stop wanting Charlotte in real life so that he could stop dreaming about her while he slept. Maybe Gigi could be the answer, perhaps she could offer him some relief, filling a void that his subconscious so desperately needed. She was beautiful, smart, funny, and she was clearly interested in him. He went back to bed and fell asleep with thoughts of Gigi swirling around his mind, excited to see her on Thursday.

When he got into the office around 8:30 the next morning, Charlotte’s things were at her desk, but she wasn’t there. He looked around, craning his head to see where she might be. He wandered up the hallway a little and spotted her through the window of Max’s office, sitting on his couch. Max was sitting in the chair opposite her, clearly deep in conversation. Brady stood there for a moment, an outsider looking in, reeling at the sight of Charlotte engaged in such a personal relationship with Max Blackwell.

Suddenly Max clapped his hands excitedly and said something that Brady couldn’t make out. He was obviously delighted about whatever Charlotte had said and Brady felt his stomach clench and drop, blood pulsing through his ears. He turned around quickly, before either of them could see him standing awkwardly, watching them. He wasn't sure why he had reacted so viscerally, it's not like he walked in on something inappropriate or fervent, an idea that, once hatched in his mind, made him feel physically ill. It seemed like a perfectly normal meeting, and Brady told himself that he was just overreacting.

He returned to his desk in time to see Madison setting her stuff down.

“Morning, B-man,” she said. And then added playfully, “Guess who texted me last night?”

“No idea,” he said, still distracted by the conversation between Charlotte and Max.

He wasn’t sure why it bothered him, whether it was simply the fact that she was getting an opportunity he had longed for or the way that Max’s face had lit up when he was talking to her. He’d never see Max like that, he’d never seen him give so much as a half-smile, let alone express true delight. He recognized the feeling as jealousy, he just wasn't sure what he was jealous of.

“Gigi texted me, you i***t,” Madison said, smacking him on the arm. “She’s super excited for your date on Thursday!”

“Oh—right… of course!” he said, trying to push the image of Max’s face out of his mind. “That’s awesome… I am too.”

“What’s wrong with you?” she said, looking at him intently. “You seem distracted—do you not like her?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he said, knowing that he didn’t sound convincing. And added a little more roughly than he meant to, “Of course I like her. I’m going out with her, aren’t I?”

“Okaaay?” she said, drawing out the second syllable of the word and narrowing her eyes. “If you say so. But something’s going on with you. So, spill it.”

“Spill what?” Steph said, coming in just in time to hear Madison. She looked back and forth between the two of them expectantly, like she was watching a tennis match.

“I don’t know,” said Madison, putting her hands on her hips. “But something’s off with B-man here, and he's just about to tell us what it is.”

Steph settled her dark brown eyes on Brady and crossed her arms, “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Jesus—you guys look like a pair of amateur detectives,” Brady laughed, more annoyed than humored, but finally giving up. “It’s really nothing, just that I saw Charlotte in Max’s office this morning and he seemed really interested in what she had to say. I’m happy for her—it just threw me off for a second. He’s not really the kind of guy to be super animated, ya know?”

Madison and Steph both immediately started for the hallway toward Max’s office.

Brady grabbed them each by the arm, saying, “You can’t both go walking down there and stare at them from the hallway. They’re in a meeting! Do you want Max to catch you sneaking around outside his office?”

Both women stopped. “Good point,” Madison said. “What did it look like? Could you tell what they were saying?”

“No— sorry, I can’t read lips,” Brady said with a look on his face that was anything but sorry. “But it looked like he was really interested and excited, so I’d say she’s killing it.”

“Well good for her,” Madison said an unconvincing tone. Then added, “I just don’t see why he picked her over any of us.”

“I think it’s awesome,” Steph chirped. “I’m genuinely excited for her! If it was any one of us, she would be happy for us.”

Madison gave her a look that said are you kidding me?

“Okay, okay, she might be a little jealous,” Steph relented. “But I’m choosing to be excited for her.” She turned around and sat down at her desk, turning on her computer.

Brady picked up the thread of his earlier conversation with Madison, mostly to stop the one they were currently having, and said, “I really am looking forward to seeing Gigi on Thursday. It should be really fun.”

Madison c****d her head and raised an eyebrow, “She’s a great girl, B-man, don’t mess this up and do not hurt her.”

“I know and I won’t,” he said, raising one hand in front of him. “Scout’s honor.”

As he lowered his hand, he hoped he wasn’t making an empty promise. He was still reeling slightly from his dream last night and he couldn’t get Max’s delighted face out of his mind.

"Look, I realize that your feelings for Charlotte aren't just going to evaporate overnight," Madison said, lowering her voice and intensifying her gaze. "If you need to get over her with a hook up or a one-night stand, find someone else. Get on Tinder or pick up some rando at a bar. But don't work out your unresolved s**t with Gigi. That's not fair to her. Only get involved with her if you're sure you won't be using her to get over Charlotte. Nothing good will come from it and someone is just going to get hurt."

He felt as if Madison could see right through him and wondered if she was just really good at this or if he was that obvious. He wasn't sure he wanted an answer. He didn't want to hurt Gigi and didn't want to use her as a way to get over Charlotte. He knew that wasn't fair and he knew from past experiences that it didn't work. He felt like Gigi could be special, like she might be more than just a distraction, he wanted a future with her. He didn't know if it would be forever, but he was willing to find out.

"I hear you, Maddie," Brady said. "The truth is, I think Gigi is great. If she's great for me remains to be seen, but I promise that I'll treat her well and that I won't hurt her."

That seemed to satisfy Madison and he just prayed that what he would be able to keep his promise.