Friends With Benefits
March Twenty-Third, Eight Years Ago
I sighed and peeled my eyes open, vowing to never drink again. My heart stopped for a moment as I propped myself up in the bed. The sheet draped across my decidedly naked body was not my crisp white one in my own bedroom, but a navy colored one. I clutched the offending sheet to my chest and slipped off the bed. As I took in the room, I realized quickly nothing was my own.
It was then that I noticed that I was not alone in the room.
All then I could see was a shock of dark brown hair and his tanned backside. I stared at him for a long moment before pulling my eyes away to look around the room for a clue as to who he was.
It didn't take long. My eyes settled on a picture with a very familiar face on it.
I looked between the bed and the picture for a minute before I jumped into action, grabbing my dress from the floor. I dropped the sheet to the ground and slipped my panties up my legs. I found one shoe by the door. I had to search the floor for the other one. When I finally came up with it, I threw my dress on over my head and slipped my feet into the black pumps. Grabbing my clutch from his bedside table, I made my way out the door and down the hall. My heels clacked noisily on my way down the stairs.
I could hear my heart pounding in my ears; I expected to get caught by his parents. And that would lead to a talk with my parents. And a very stern lecture from both of my brothers.
So when I walked out of the house and down the driveway without seeing anyone, I heaved a sigh of relief. But I knew I wasn't in the clear yet. He lived in the same gated community as I did, but there was still several blocks away from his to mine. Without a car, I couldn't escape the walk of shame.
I stepped out of my shoes and tiptoed up the stairs. I walked down the hallways, carefully making my way past my brothers' rooms.
When I reached my room, I pushed the door open just enough to shimmy through. I slipped out of my dress and padded into my bathroom, turning on the shower as I went. I picked up my brush, finally looking into the mirror hanging above the sink. I made a face at the wild hair and makeup leftover from the night before.
I set about running the brush through my tangles. Five minutes later, my hair was smooth and the mirror was steamed over. I pulled my panties down and into the laundry basket before stepping into the shower. I made quick work of washing my body and hair. Once I was done, I toweled off and slipped on a camisole and a new pair of panties.
Moving back into my bedroom, I opened the window next to my bed. I stood there for a minute, then walked over and slipped into bed.
"Dante? Are you planning on getting out of bed at all today?" my mom called through the door. I barely heard her as I flipped over on my back. I looked over at the space next to me on the bed and smiled.
She had been drunk the night before, so very drunk. It was the first time I'd seen her drunk before.
"Dante?" she called out again, slightly louder.
"I'm up," I grumbled. "I'm up, alright?"
I stared at the ceiling for several minutes before I slid off the bed and stretched. Scratching my stomach absentmindedly, I took a step and immediately felt something under my foot.
I looked down at my foot and grinned, bending over to grab the discarded bra. I tossed it on the bed as I continued on into the bathroom and into my closet.
I skipped a shower and threw on a pair of jeans an a tee. After running a comb through my short hair, I sprayed a little cologne before stepping into a pair of tennis shoes. My mom walked into the room as I grabbed my phone off its charger. I panicked for a moment as I reached across the bed, grabbing the bra and stuffing it into the back pocket of my jeans.
"What are you doing in here?" I growled before frowning at the sudden anger.
"I was just going to clean up in here. I assumed you were going out, was I wrong?" She didn't stop to wait for a response. "I need to get laundry done and most of it is on your floor." As if to prove her point, she leaned down to scoop up a pair of dirty jeans. "Did you think I was spying on you?" she questioned, walking into the bathroom. She came back out with a full laundry basket. "And you really should give that bra I saw you stick in your pocket back to Kennedy."
I watched her with a cautious look for a few minutes before shaking my head and walking towards the door. "How do you always know everything that happens here?" I asked, turning around to look at her.
"That girl has never been quiet in her life. But you put a little alcohol in her... I'm not going to judge you. You're are old enough to make your own decisions. Not the legal drinking age," she mentioned off-handedly, "but that is the least of my worries sometimes. I just hope that you are being safe. I'm much too young to be a grandma." She smiled, but I knew she was very serious. "And don't break her hear."
"You don't need to worry about that, Mom. We're not dating."
With one lifted shoulder, she went back to work on my room. The conversation was over.
I headed downstairs, making a stop in the kitchen. Passing my sister sitting at the breakfast bar, I grabbed the milk out of the refrigerator before taking the cap off and drinking straight out of the carton. When I pulled away and recapped the milk, I saw that her nose was wrinkled. "That was nasty and now it's yours."
"Thanks." I pressed a kiss on to the top of her head before I walked out of the kitchen and into the garage, getting into my car. I drove the few blocks it took to get to her house.
After parking in the driveway, I rang the doorbell and waited for an answer.
Her older brother threw the door open and grinned, allowing me past him before her shut the door.
"Where is everyone?" I asked, looking around.
"Kenny's in the kitchen, making lunch. Jeremiah ran to the store and my parents are out of town this weekend."
I followed him into the kitchen where she stood at the counter, placing a slice of bread on top of the rest of the sandwich to finish it off. She looked up and blush lightly. So lightly that if I hadn't been watching her so closely, I wouldn't have seen it. But I did. "If you want a sandwich, Dante, you're going to have to make your own," she stated, tucking her hair behind her ears.
"No problem," I replied, walking over to do just that. She was frozen as I stopped, standing right next to her. She handed her brother his sandwich, but made no move to leave.
Once Landon had left the room, I reached into my pocket and produced her bra. "I thought you might like this back."
"Why do you...oh. Thanks." She grabbed it and turned on her heel to walk up the stairs to her room.
"Next time, you should probably forgo the bra. It only gets in the way and you don't want to leave it behind again." I smirked as I pulled a couple pieces of bread out. I heard her walk right back up beside me. She was close enough that I could smell the scent of her coconut shampoo.
"Let's make one thing clear: there will not be a next time. Once was enough. Actually, once was too much! I'd appreciate if you'd just forget that it ever happened," she hissed into my ear.
"But I can't forget that. It was an amazing night. And there will be a next time. Believe me, you'll want another one."
Kennedy scoffed. "I wouldn't hold my breath for that!"
"You never forget your first." I glanced over at her. "Never."
She had a defiant look in her eyes. "I will. I was drunk and foolish. No one can expect me to remember any of that. Which I don't. I don't remember any of last night." I just shrugged as she turned away and walked off. I finished making my sandwich and walked into the family room.
"What took you so long?" Landon questioned.
"It had to be perfect," I spoke as I settled into the couch.
He took in the sloppily made sandwich and back up at me before turning to his own food. "Okay then."
This is the same story. Just fixing small problems and typos. If you still see a typo, feel free to let me know!