We were laughing so hard it took us forever to get the door opened. I don’t even remember what set us off, most likely something about my stumbling up the steps to the apartment in those ridiculous heels I was wearing. God, why did men do this to themselves? No wonder we wizened up and let women take over the wearing of the fancy heeled shoes. Although, our hilarity could have stemmed from some comment that Torrie had made about Elijah in his Tarzan costume. Yeah, Elijah went as Tarzan to the costume party. That’s funny in itself but the fact that Torrie kept calling him Jungle Boy to the point that everyone else at the party was doing the same thing by the end of the night and Elijah pouted. And he’s adorable when he pouts. S’okay. I’m sure Becca took care of him.

There was a lot of champagne. I discovered early on that champagne went straight to Torrie’s head. She was a complete freak by the time I dragged her out of there. I wasn’t much better but at least I wasn’t attempting to dance like Madonna on the bar. Fuck. I can’t remember the last time I had laughed that hard. Oh yeah, we won the costume contest too. Go us. I really didn’t see how we couldn’t have – Torrie was positively stunning in her Maria Antoinette gown. She went all out – big white wig, crazy pale green satin gown with silver lace and this corset that pushed her boobs up to her neck I swear and half the guys at the party were taking bets as to when they would fall out. They never did, dammit. I think she glued them in. She bitched a lot about how expensive the get-up was as well and the first person to spill their drink on her would have to sell their Porsche to pay for it. No drinks were spilled. Well, at least not on her gown.

I lost my stupid wig somewhere early in the evening. At some point I think I saw Dracula wearing it. Or maybe it was Gandalf. Shit. There were a load of ‘Rings’ characters there. Some really bad Legolas’ too. I caught Torrie dancing with one of them early on – can’t remember who the bloke was – but I had to ream her about her bad taste in Elves.

“Get this goddamned gown off of me!” Torrie was hollering from the living room.

I had barely made it past the door yet. Kicked off those stupid shoes and followed the sounds of her grumbling to find she had half the skirt over her head, lost in yards of fabric, and I laughed as I walked over to help her. “Ya dumb bitch, ya gotta undo the laces before you can pull it off.”

“Oh bite me!”

I chuckled, doing as she bid and biting her on the shoulder as I untied the laces at the back of the gown. She squealed and wriggled under my hands – she’d been hyper all night. We spent the next five minutes trying to get the gown over the pannier before realizing it would be easier to just pull it over her head. Duh. Both of our capacities for thought were badly wanting that evening. Once the gown was dispensed of, I released the fastening on the side hoops and Torrie stepped out of those with a grateful sigh. I found myself just staring at her then, dressed as she was in corset, chemise and bloomers, all of which seemed to cling to her shapely figure. With the wig still on and her skin dusted in pale powder, it was like having some sick fantasy of being with an 18th century courtesan come to life. God, I hoped I hadn’t said that out loud.

I must not have because she didn’t seem to pay me any attention as she wandered her way into the kitchen, not quite walking a straight line, which made me smile as I dropped down onto the couch.

“Wanna drink?” I heard her call from the kitchen.

“Haven’t you had enough?” I replied, shrugging out of the long black velvet coat of my costume.

“No, dad. I haven’t.” She reentered the living room, tossed me a beer and crawled up onto the couch beside me, wine cooler in hand. “What’s on TV?”

“Who gives a fuck?”

“I do.” She dug around between the cushions for the remote, squealing with glee when she found it, then flicked on the television while I nursed my beer.

Looney Tunes are best watched drunk. They’re damn funny then. Torrie seemed to think so too. Daffy kept sending her into peels of laughter and he didn’t even have to speak to do so. I settled back against the arm of the couch and just watched her. My eyes kept straying to that goddamned corset and the way the tops of her breasts spilled over it. Her skin was surprisingly pale for as much time as she spent in the sun but then with the amount of sunblock she used, she had permanently tinged her skin with the scent of coconut. It was amazing what those corsets could do to waistlines. I figured I could probably span hers with my hands right then, but I have long fingers so maybe it didn’t mean much. Is it just me or are collarbones incredibly sexy?

Fuck. That was the alcohol talking. I turned my gaze back to the TV and took another swig of beer. I wasn’t making that mistake again. No way in hell. Torrie had already made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t attracted to me in that way. Though why she did find Elijah good enough to sleep with I was still trying to figure out. Oh yeah, if I thought about it too long, that whole situation still pissed me off to no end. It shouldn’t have. It had nothing to do with me. Which may be why it pissed me off so badly.

I really had to stop lusting after my best friend. I was as hard as fucking granite for God’s sake.

At some point the television got turned off and the CD player came on and we started talking, still drinking, still in those silly clothes, still on the couch. I was relaxed back against the arm, my arm behind my head and Torrie was at the other end, her legs tucked under her, the long curl from her wig draped over her shoulder. Yeah, just one more thing to pull my gaze where it shouldn’t have been going. It was about two in the morning, we were drunk, the music added background noise and as usually happens the conversation became contemplative and deep. Because, only those who are drunk or stoned can have truly brilliant philosophical conversations. I don’t know why. But that’s the rule.

I was fast becoming downright morose. I had a tendency to do that when I got too drunk. Suddenly my life would look all fucked up to me and I would wonder what I was doing with it. I lamented about unsuccessful relationships and the sudden fame that I knew wouldn’t last because it never does, not when it comes out of nowhere the way it did for me. And then I started in about my relationship with Julie and from there to my fans, which I still had trouble grasping the fact that I had any and that according to my agent they were sending me pictures and underwear and stuff like that. It was scary and I didn’t understand it and completely feared that someday I was going to start believing the hype. Someday I would believe those things that the magazines would write about how gorgeous and sexy I was.

And I stopped when I realized that Torrie was suddenly laughing at me. That made me mad. “What the fuck?” I snapped.

She stopped instantly and turned her gaze to me. “Nothing.”

I frowned. “Don’t nothing me. You had a comment to make. Make it.”

Torrie shook her head, faster than usual. Probably due to that fifth wine cooler in her hand. She sighed. “Orli, the only reason they write those things is because that is how they see you. Your fans see you. Hell, any woman in creation sees you.” She paused. “Probably a lot of men, too.”

“Don’t give me that shit. You’re drunk.”

“Drunk, yes. Blind, no.” She set the empty bottle down on the coffee table and looked at me once more. “Surely you hear it enough from Julie, how just looking at you makes a woman want to put her hands all over you?”

I grimaced. Fact of the matter was, I was beginning to wonder if Julie found me attractive at all. I told her constantly how beautiful she was. She seemed to expect it from me. I think maybe twice she had told me I was cute. Cute. Like a puppy or something. I sat up, sick of this conversation and more than a little upset – at what I had no idea – and I just wanted to drop into bed and sleep off the obvious hang over I would have. But Torrie’s hand on my shoulder stopped me and I turned to meet her eyes.

“Doesn’t she tell you that?” She asked softly, her gaze scanning my face. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?” Torrie smelled like roses that night. She had claimed she doubted Maria Antoinette smelled like the beach.

Her hand brushed across my cheek, threaded threw my hair. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at her anymore, not wanting to face the fact that I was aching for my roommate at that moment, for her touch, her kiss, to bury myself inside of her. I was so hard it hurt and I just wanted her to leave me the hell alone.

“How beautiful you are,” she whispered.

I shook my head. “I’m not. Torrie, please… “

I opened my eyes to look at her once more and she sat back on her heels again but she didn’t look away. I couldn’t make out the expression on her face and normally I could read her so easily. Her mouth was slightly parted, as if she were caught off guard or surprised by something. And that stupid wig… I reached out and pulled it off of her and her dark hair fell over her shoulders and she was my Torrie again, only in those undergarments she appeared all wanton and alluring. And I ached and trembled and refused to reach for her the way my body was screaming for me to do. And I turned away again, fighting with myself, telling myself to get up, walk away, don’t sit there and be tempted.

And then her fingers were at my jaw and she was pulling my head back around and there was panic in her gaze and she whispered, “Jesus, Orli, make it stop,” before her mouth descended over mine and I became lost. We both did.

Her mouth was warm and so soft against mine and she pushed me back against the couch and I let her, even though deep inside I knew I should have been the sensible one. I should have said stop. I should have reminded her about Sean and the guilt she would feel in the morning but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because her lips felt incredible against mine and she tasted so sweet and her tongue teased mine and stroked my palette and my teeth and she was tugging my shirt up and over my head and then her hands were on my chest and all rational thought left me.

One night. One night was all that was needed and then this strange obsession I had with my roommate, my best friend, would be over and done with.

Torrie moved her mouth from mine and was suddenly kissing my neck, nipping the skin occasionally and then her mouth was on my chest and her tongue teased a nipple and I shuddered at the contact, whispered her name, buried my hands into her hair. She continued down my stomach, lingering over my sun tattoo, tracing it with her tongue while her fingers danced over the front of the satin trousers. And then she was holding me in her hand, stroking me and I came unglued, desperate to feel her warmth surround me.

I bolted upwards, my hands tugging at the goddamned corsets, fighting with the stays that held it until I was cussing and Torrie was laughing softly against me while she kissed my neck and sucked on my earlobe. Fuck. I doubted we would even make it to the bedroom.

Finally the corset fell away and I ripped off the chemise – and Torrie called me a jackass for doing so and I told her to shut up -- and then latched onto a nipple, grazing it with my teeth and she did shut up, at least for a moment, before she whispered my name and begged for more. Her legs wrapped around my waist and she grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up to her mouth and we kissed again and I swear I could have stayed like that forever, tongues warring with one another, with her poised over my lap, rubbing against my straining erection. I couldn’t get enough of touching her, my hands taking on lives of their own as they moved over her skin, cupping her breasts as she leaned into my touch. I pushed past the fabric of the pantalets, my fingers delving into her wetness and warmth, teasing the already hardened bud.

“Orli,” she whimpered, pushing against me. “Please… “

“I know, angel.” I kissed the side of her mouth, my tongue tracing her lips which tasted like Wildberry cooler. “I know.”

I grabbed her by the hips and lurched to my feet, stumbling slightly, forgetting how many hours and beers it had been since I stood, and only made it as far as the dining table. Fuck it. I pushed her back onto it, pulling the pantalets off of her hips and over her legs and then I was pushing myself inside her, gasping in pleasure as I felt her envelope me, close around me, pulling me deeper inside as her legs wrapped around my waist again. And I was plunging into her, over and over again and she was arching beneath me, crying out my name, her nails digging into my arms and the pain felt exquisite and she began to shudder around me, her muscles clenching and pulling and my release came fast and hard and I fell against her, my mouth claiming hers once more. And it wasn’t over. It so wasn’t over.

Somehow we made it to my bedroom, though we had stumbled and laughed our way down the hall, unable to refrain from touching and tasting each other. But we were finally free of all clothing, just skin against skin, and this time I made myself slow down and I explored every inch of Torrie, learning what it was that made her cry out my name – God I loved hearing that – and where she was ticklish and I could send her into a fit of giggles before pulling her back into a frenzy of passion. I loved the taste of her, the feel of her fingers buried in my hair, pulling me against her, her whimpers, her cries, her long legs wrapped around me. When we came together again she was straddling me and I sat up and we were holding hands, our fingers interlaced and we just stared into one another’s eyes, rocking against each other, lost in the feel of being joined together, in knowing and anticipating the way only two people as close as we were could. We found our release at the same moment, our gazes never straying, and she was so incredibly beautiful as she shuddered above me, saying my name over and over again and I pulled her to me and kissed her and held her and wanted to remain buried within her forever.

At some point in the night, Torrie cried. I couldn’t fathom why and her tears tore at me and I tried to get her to talk but she just buried her face against me and I held her and sang to her and realized I was crying too. I knew what had happened and I couldn’t face it. Wouldn’t face it. The night would never end, I told myself that over and over again. The sun would never rise and we would never have to acknowledge the truth.

But the sun did rise and morning came.

My headache was less severe than I expected. Of course, I hadn’t opened my eyes yet and didn’t really want to. The bed was welcoming and my body felt languid. I didn’t want to move. I rolled over, searching for Torrie’s soft body only to find cool sheets beneath my hand. I opened my eyes, staring at the empty space beside me. I hated to think that she would have gone back to her own bed. Such an action would have stung immensely. I glanced at the clock, realizing it was past eleven. No doubt she had simply risen long ago. I had yet to see her sleep past nine no matter how hung over she was.

Sitting up, I rubbed a hand over my eyes, clearing the sleep, then stretched with a yawn. Sliding out of bed, I slipped on my boxers and padded out of my room toward the kitchen. Entering the living room, I came to an abrupt halt, my heart thudding wildly in my chest, my eyes refusing to believe what they were seeing.

Torrie looked up at me when I entered and we just stood there for a long time staring at one another. I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Morning,” she said finally before worrying her lower lip.

I couldn’t find my voice to reply. I just kept staring at the suitcases that were piled at her feet. I knew she wasn’t going on a trip.

Following my gaze, Torrie sighed. “Orli – “

“No.” I shook my head. “No. Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“Can you tell me last night didn’t happen?”

“Nothing was wrong with last night!” I snapped. I felt anger and pain washing over me all at the same time.

“No,” she agreed. “Nothing was wrong with last night. It was beautiful and perfect and I’ll never forget a moment of it.”

“Then why – “ I gestured helplessly at her bags. “I don’t understand. You and Lij – “

“There was no one to get hurt when Lij and I had sex, Orli,” she told me quietly. “I never would have allowed it to happen if there had been. But we have to consider Sean and Trophy.”

“Because you love Sean.” I said it almost as an accusation.

“Something like that,” she shrugged.

I shook my head. “We can just forget it ever happened. They never have to know.”

“Orli,” Torrie began. “Can you stand there and tell me it will never happen again?”

“It will never happen again.” I almost convinced myself of that.

Torrie looked away and I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly achingly cold. God, this couldn’t be happening. The fear I had harbored for the past few months was finally coming to fruition. I was losing her.

“I fucked this up, didn’t I?” My eyes burned from the tears that threatened.

“What? No!” Torrie moved toward me and I didn’t want her to touch me but she cupped my face in her hands and forced me to look at her and I saw that she was near tears too. “I made that first move last night, not you. We both should have said stop but we didn’t. So here we are. And we can’t let it happen again. Don’t you understand? I won’t do that – not to Sean, not to anyone. And I sure as hell don’t want to be the other woman.”

I looked away. I didn’t want to admit that she was right. And I didn’t want her to leave. I didn’t want to be alone again. She was the other half of me that I couldn’t let go. I knew there had to be something I could say to changer her mind, to make her stay. But no words came to mind. No excuses. It was over.

You’re a big boy, Orli, I said to myself. Suck it up. Deal with it.

I turned back to her. “I don’t know if I can get used to living without you again.”

Torrie smiled softly and caressed my cheek. “Have Trophy move in with you. It’d make her happy, wouldn’t it? And it would get her out of her parent’s house.”

I didn’t want Julie there. But I smiled. “Yeah. Maybe.”

She moved away and I wanted to pull her back but I just stood there, watching as she grabbed a few of her CD’s from the jumbled pile that had become our collection. God, if this was this hard, what was divorce like? I gritted my teeth, searched for something to say.

“Where will you be staying?”

“Myra’s until I find a place of my own.”

Myra. A good friend of hers I had met a few times. She was nice, intelligent, fun to hang with. Nothing like Traci.

Please don’t leave me. “You’ll leave her number? I mean… in case.”

“I’ll only be a phone call away,” she replied with a smile.

“Sometimes that means halfway around the world,” I commented quietly, my gaze sweeping over her bags again.

Silence. Then, “Orli, we’re still friends.”

“Are we?” I felt bitter and betrayed and I was in so much pain at that moment I couldn’t see straight. I didn’t know anything beyond my desire to stop feeling like that. I wanted her to hurt like I was.

“I hope so,” she whispered.

Another long silence.

“I wish last night had never happened,” I told her.

I didn’t mean it. I would hold the memory of last night with me forever. But I wanted her to think I regretted it. I wanted her to know that her friendship meant everything to me.

Torrie refused to meet my gaze. “Well, it did. And we can’t take it back.”

Don’t walk out that door.

“It won’t happen again.” I realized I was near begging. “Angel, I promise it won’t happen again.”

She whispered something, I couldn’t make it out. It almost sounded like “But I can’t” but I wasn’t certain and then she turned to me and said, “You can’t have us both, Orli. That just isn’t the way relationships work. Julie would only take our living together so much longer and then you would lose her and then where would you be? I thought you wanted to make this one work?”

“I did – I do!” I corrected quickly.

I was feeling frustrated and confused. There was a time that I had thought Julie was all I could want. Everyone said we made a cute couple and I had even envisioned spending the rest of my life with her. Now I didn’t know what I wanted. And when guys get confused, we get stupid.

And so I opened my mouth and said, “If I had to give up Julie to keep you beside me, then maybe it would be worth it. Girlfriends are a dime a dozen. But friendships like ours are once in a lifetime, Tor.”

She just stared at me. Ever feel like you may have said the wrong thing?

Finally, she shook her head. “I have to go.”

“Torrie – “ I took a step toward her but her glance stopped me.

“No, Orli. Nothing you say is going to change my mind. This is better. For both of us.”

She gathered up her bags and I stood there and stared, completely at a loss for what to do and what to say. Torrie walked over to me and kissed my cheek and I closed my eyes, refusing to watch as she walked out the door.

It opened.

“I’ll call you later,” I heard her tell me softy.

It closed.

“Please, don’t go,” I whispered into the silence that suddenly and completely engulfed me.

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