Chapter 2: Texts and Tremors
The phone clattered onto the table like a live grenade. “What did you do?” I shrieked, my voice cracking.Jess just grinned, unrepentant. “I took the choice away.Now you don’t have to sit here spiraling. You just have to show up.”
“I can’t face him right now,” I whispered, my breath coming in short, sharp pulls.“You should have seen him, Jess.After. He just handed me my clothes.He looked… wrecked. He was going to say something and I cut him off because I was terrified it would be ‘let’s forget this ever happened.’ Maybe I wanted to forget.Maybe I didn’t.But if he says that…” My throat closed. “He’s my anchor. I can’t lose him.”
“You won’t lose him,” Jess said, her tone softening into something almost maternal.She pushed a cup of coffee toward me. “But you have to stop treating him like he’s made of glass. He fucked you on a couch in a woodshop, Alex.That’s not a man who’s delicate. That’s a man who’s done waiting.”
The day passed in a nauseating blur of caffeine jitters and misplaced productivity. I tried to work, opening a project file, only to stare at the waveform visuals until they morphed into the rhythmic curves of wood shavings. The synth line I’d been chasing sounded thin and pathetic.Everything did.I changed my outfit four times. Nothing felt right.Too dressed up felt like a date, which was terrifying. Too casual felt like I didn’t care, which was a lie. I settled on dark jeans and a simple black sweater, my hair pulled into a messy knot.I looked in the mirror. The woman staring back had wide, startled eyes and a mouth that still felt swollen.She looked undone.
The bar was all exposed brick and low, copper light. It was noisy, crowded with the after-work hum of conversation and clinking glasses.A public place. Jess’s idea was a good one; it meant we couldn’t scream or break things.It also meant we couldn’t touch.Not really.
I saw him the moment I walked in. He was already at a small table in the back, a pint of something dark in front of him. He stood up when he saw me, a formality that felt achingly foreign.His usual easy slouch was gone, replaced by a tense readiness. He was wearing a grey henley, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His forearms, dusted with the faint, permanent shadow of his work, rested on the table.My stomach flipped.
“Hey,” he said as I slid into the chair opposite him.
“Hey.” The silence stretched, taut and painful, filled by the laughter of a group nearby. “You got my text,” I finally blurted.“Jess’s text, you mean.” A faint, tired smile touched his lips. “The ‘public place’ bit was a dead giveaway.”
“She’s a meddler.”
“She’s a good friend.” He took a drink, his eyes never leaving my face.The warmth in them was still there, but it was banked, guarded. “How are you?”
It was such a mundane question.How was I? I was a live wire of memory and fear.I could still feel the exact pressure of his thumb on my hip bone. “I’m… surviving.” I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “Taek, about the other night…”
He held up a hand, stopping me.“Let me get you a drink first. Please.” He flagged down a server, ordered me a whiskey, neat.Of course. When the glass arrived, I took a bracing sip, the fire a familiar comfort.
“I don’t regret it,” he said quietly, his voice cutting through the ambient noise.My heart stalled. “I need you to know that.I haven’t for a second.What I regret is the silence after. Letting you walk out like that.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, leaving it even more tousled.“I was… I’m not good at this. I didn’t know if you hated me. If you’d just needed something, someone, and I was there.”
“It wasn’t just ‘someone’,” I said, the words rushing out. “It was you.That’s why it’s so fucking terrifying.”
The raw admission hung between us. His eyes deepened, the black of them swallowing the dim light. “Why?”
“Because!” I gestured helplessly.“You’re you.You’re my best friend. If we mess this up, I lose everything. I just got dumped, my life is a mess, and the one solid thing in it is you. And I went and put my hands all over it.”
“I put my hands all over you,” he corrected, his voice dropping, a rough edge to it. “I wanted to.I’ve wanted to for a long time, Alex. That night… it wasn’t a mistake.It was an inevitability.”
The air between us crackled. The noise of the bar faded to a distant rumble. All I could see was the intensity in his face, the set of his jaw.“What does that mean?” I whispered.
“It means I’m done pretending.” He leaned in, his forearms on the table bridging the gap between us.“It means if you’re worried about losing me, stop. You can’t.You think a fuck on a couch changes that? It just made it real.” He took a slow breath.“It means I want to do it again.Not in a bar. Not on a fucking couch in my workshop.In my bed.With time. Where I can take you apart slowly and put you back together the way I’ve always imagined.”
His words were a physical blow, a sweet, relentless pressure low in my belly.My face flooded with heat. I felt exposed, seen, claimed in broad daylight under the copper lights. “Jesus, Taek.”
“Is that a problem?” A challenge flickered in his gaze.“No,” I breathed. “It’s not a problem. It's just that Josh breaks up with me only a few days ago" his eyes darkened when I said the name of my ex "and I don't know if I processed it... Even when I try to think, I can't get out of my head the other night...us. I'm having a hard time concentrating on anything else at all." I paused "I just want to be sure... I don't want to hurt you" I finished avoiding his eyes.
The mention of Josh’s name was a violation in the space between us, a cold splash of the past.Taek’s jaw tightened, a muscle flickering. “Fuck Josh,” he said, the words low and final.“This isn’t about him. This is about you and me in this bar right now.Your processing is your business. My wanting you is mine.”
He leaned closer.
The movement was slow, deliberate, collapsing the distance I’d insisted upon.The scents of cedar and bourbon washed over me.His warmth was a tangible force. “You think you can hurt me?” His voice was a rough whisper near my ear, almost lost in the bar’s din. “The only thing that hurts is watching you tie yourself in knots over a man who never deserved you. Over an idea of us that’s already gone.”
His breath was hot on my skin.My own breath hitched, caught in my throat. All the fear, the confusion, coiled tight within me, began to unravel into something else entirely—a pure, sharp need.“Taek,” I managed, a weak protest.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing my temple. “Tell me this isn’t what you want, and I’ll drive you home.We’ll have tea. We’ll be friends.” He pulled back just enough to lock his dark eyes with mine. They were full of a quiet, devastating certainty.“But look at me and tell me you don’t remember the weight of me on you. The sound you made.”
I couldn’t.My cheeks burned. My pulse was a frantic drum in my wrists, between my legs. The memory was immediate and physical, a liquid pull low in my stomach.I shook my head, a tiny, desperate motion.
“Yeah,” he said, reading the surrender in my face. He tossed some cash onto the table and stood, reaching for my hand.“My place.Now.”
The drive was a silent, charged blur. His truck smelled of him, of sawdust and clean sweat. His large, capable hand rested on the gear shift, and I stared at it, remembering those fingers digging into the soft flesh of my thigh. I was soaked already, my underwear a damp confession.He parked outside his small, Craftsman-style house. Before I could undo my seatbelt, he was around the truck, opening my door. He didn’t take my hand this time.He caged my face in his hands and kissed me.
It wasn’t gentle.It was a claiming. A deep, hungry slide of his tongue against mine that tasted of whiskey and intent. I clutched at his shoulders, the hard muscle there flexing under my fingers.He broke the kiss, breathing hard, his forehead pressed to mine. “Inside,” he growled.We barely made it through the front door. It slammed shut and he pinned me against it, the wood solid and unyielding at my back. His mouth crashed down on mine again, one hand fisting in my hair, the other sliding under my sweater. His palm was rough, calloused, skimming up my rib cage.I whimpered into his mouth.
“I need to hear you,” he said, dragging his lips down my neck.“No more thinking. Just feeling.” He pulled my sweater off over my head, unsnapped my bra. The cool air, then the heat of his gaze on my breasts, made my nipples tighten painfully. He bent his head and took one into his mouth, sucking hard, his tongue circling the peak.
A ragged moan tore from my throat.My head thumped back against the door. “Taek…”
“That’s it,” he said, switching to the other breast, his teeth grazing gently. His hand went to the button of my jeans, popping it open, dragging the zipper down. He pushed his hand inside my underwear, his fingers sliding through my wetness with a filthy, slick sound. “Fuck, Alex. You’re drenched.”
He found my clit, applying a firm, perfect pressure, and my knees buckled. He held me up against the door, his body braced against mine.“You want this?” he demanded, his voice gritted with need. “You want my cock inside you? After all the talking?”
“Yes,” I gasped, my hips rocking against his hand.“Please, yes.I want it. I want you.”
He withdrew his hand, making me cry out at the loss. He yanked my jeans and underwear down my legs in one rough motion.“Bedroom,” he ordered, stripping his own shirt off. The sight of his broad chest, the dusting of dark hair, the lean strength of him, made my mouth water. I stumbled down the short hall to his room, a sparse, masculine space dominated by a large bed with a simple wooden frame he’d made himself.He followed, pushing me onto the mattress. He shed his jeans and boxers, his erection springing free, thick and veined and utterly formidable.He knelt on the bed, crawling over me.He didn’t kiss me again. He just looked, his eyes burning a path over my nakedness. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, almost to himself. Then he positioned himself between my legs, the head of his cock nudging against my entrance.He pushed in.
It was a slow, relentless invasion, stretching me fuller than I remembered, than I’d dreamed. I cried out, my back arching off the bed.He filled me completely, a perfect, aching fit. He paused, buried to the hilt, his body trembling with the effort of holding still. “Look at me,” he commanded.I opened my eyes, bleary with pleasure. His face was above me, fierce and open, all his careful composure gone.“This is me,” he said, his voice raw. “Not him.Not a friend. Me.” He withdrew almost completely, then drove back into me with a deep, rolling thrust that stole my breath.
“You,” I sobbed, my nails scoring his back.“Only you.”
That broke his control. He began to move in earnest, setting a deep, punishing rhythm that had the bed frame knocking against the wall. Each thrust was a claiming, a brutal answer to every unspoken question. The slap of skin, the wet sounds of our joining, his guttural grunts in my ear—it was obscene and perfect. I came violently, a wave of pleasure cracking through me, my inner muscles clamping around him. He fucked me through it, his pace never faltering.
“Come for me again,” he snarled, his thumb finding my clit, rubbing tight, frantic circles. “I want to feel it.”
And I did, another peak rising fast, spurred by his words, his touch, the sheer animal reality of him. I screamed, my body shaking. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep and followed, his own release pulsing into me with a low, broken groan. He collapsed onto me, his full weight a delicious anchor, his breath hot against my neck.
We lay there, a tangled, sweat-slicked mess.The silence was no longer tense.It was saturated, complete. He shifted slightly, still inside me, and pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder.A friend’s kiss. A lover’s kiss. It was all there now, irrevocably fused.
The weight of him was a solid, comforting reality. His breath warmed my neck in slowing rhythms, and inside me, he was still a faint, fading pulse. The room smelled of us, of sex and salt and the cedar from his skin. I didn’t want to move, ever, in case this delicate balance shattered.But my mind, treacherous and wired, began to whisper. “Taek,” I said, my voice hoarse.
“Mmm.” He didn’t lift his head.“What happens tomorrow?” The words were out, small and sharp in the dark.
He went very still. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he rolled to the side, pulling me with him so I was tucked against his chest.His arm was a heavy bar across my ribs. “Tomorrow,” he said, his voice rumbling against my back, “I make coffee. You probably criticize my roast. We figure it out.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.” His fingers traced a slow circle on my stomach. “You’re looking for a script, Alex.There isn’t one. We just did the thing we can’t take back.”
The finality of it chilled me, even as my skin heated under his touch.“I’m scared I’ll fuck it up. I’m a mess right now.”
“You’re not a mess.” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder blade. “You’re in pieces.There’s a difference.And I’ve seen your pieces before. I’m not afraid of them.”
Tears pricked my eyes, stupid and sudden. I swiped at them angrily.“I can’t just bounce from his bed to yours. That’s not who I am.It feels cheap.”
His hand stilled. The silence that followed was thicker, more dangerous.“Look at me,” he said, but it was softer now. I turned in his arms. His face was close, his eyes searching mine in the faint light from the streetlamp outside.“Do you feel cheap right now?”
I shook my head, unable to speak.
“Then don’t put that on us.” He brushed a curl from my forehead. His thumb lingered on my temple.“What happened with Josh… that’s yours. This is something else.It started long before he left, and you know it.”
I did know it. The knowledge was a deep, shameful current that had run under years of friendship. The night in the workshop hadn’t created this; it had simply cracked the dam. “I don’t know how to do this,” I whispered.“Be with you like this. It changes every molecule.”
A slow, real smile touched his mouth. “Good.” He shifted, rising up on one elbow to look down at me. His free hand traced the line of my jaw, then down my throat, over my collarbone.“Let it change. Stop fighting it.” His palm smoothed over my breast, his thumb rubbing my nipple until it pebbled tight. A fresh, liquid ache pooled low in my belly.“You’re distracting me,” I breathed, even as I arched into his touch.
“That’s the idea.” He bent his head and took my nipple into his mouth, his tongue laving the sensitive peak.A sharp gasp escaped me. His hand slid lower, over the soft plane of my stomach, through the damp tangle of curls beneath. He found my clit, already swollen and throbbing, and pressed the pad of his finger against it in a slow, insistent circle.“Fuck, Taek,” I groaned, my hips lifting off the mattress.
“That’s the idea, too.” He kissed a trail back up to my mouth. His fingers slid lower, dipping inside me, gathering the wetness there. He broke the kiss to watch his hand work.“Look how ready you are for me. Already.” He pulled his fingers out and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean with a dark, focused intensity. “You taste perfect.”
The obscenity of the act, the raw approval in his gaze, sent a jolt straight through my core.My nerves were live wires. “I need you,” I said, the confession ripped from me.“How?” he prompted, his voice a graveled challenge. His cock, hard again, pressed against my thigh.“Inside. Now.” I reached for him, wrapping my hand around his length.He was hot and silken-steel in my grip. I guided him to my entrance, my own movements frantic.“Please.Don’t be gentle.”
A low groan escaped him. He pushed my hand aside and positioned himself, his eyes locked on mine. “Never with you.” He shoved into me with one powerful, unyielding thrust.
The air left my lungs in a whoosh.He filled me brutally, perfectly.There was no slow build, no tender re-learning. This was possession, pure and stark. He set a ruthless, driving pace, each plunge hitting a deep, blinding spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids. The bed slammed against the wall with a rhythmic, protesting thud.“This is us,” he gritted out, his breath hot against my neck. His hands were braced by my head, his arms corded with strain.“No hiding. No friends.Just this. You feel it?”
I could only moan, my legs locking around his hips, pulling him deeper.The friction was exquisite, a rough, building burn. I was fracturing, coming apart under the sheer physical truth of him.
“Tell me,” he demanded, his pace never faltering. “Tell me you feel it.”
“I feel it,” I sobbed, the words torn from me. “God, I feel you everywhere.”
He captured my mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing my cries.His thrusts became shorter, harder, more focused. The coil inside me snapped. My orgasm ripped through me, a convulsive, mind-wiping wave that clenched around him like a fist. He drove into me once, twice more, and then with a raw, shattered sound, he came, his body shuddering as he spilled deep inside me.
He collapsed, his weight a crushing, beloved burden.Sweat slicked our skin together. For long minutes, the only sound was our ragged breathing fighting to slow.
Eventually, he shifted, pulling out. He fetched a cloth from the bathroom, warm and damp, and cleaned me with a tenderness that contrasted violently with the sex. He tossed it aside and gathered me back against him, my back to his chest.His arm anchored me to the world.The silence returned, but it was different. Lighter.The ghosts felt further away.
“I’m staying tonight,” he said into my hair.It wasn’t a question.“Okay,” I whispered.
His lips brushed the nape of my neck.“And tomorrow night. And the night after that, if you want.”
The promise was a vast, terrifying country.I stared at the shadows on his wall. “What if I panic again?”
“Then you panic.” He nuzzled closer. “I’m good with my hands. I’ll hold you together until it passes.”
A weak laugh hiccuped out of me.I turned in his arms to face him. His expression was open, weary, profoundly sure.In the dim light, I traced the line of his brow, the curve of his mouth. The friend I knew was still there, but layered over him now was the lover, raw and undeniable.She leans in closer.Her lips meet his, a soft, lingering press. It held no hunger, only a quiet seal.A promise. When I pulled back, his eyes were closed, a faint smile on his lips.“Okay,” I said again, settling my head on his shoulder. His heartbeat was a steady drum under my ear. “We figure it out.”
The deep, liquid darkness of the night thinned into a pale, watery grey at the edges of the blinds. I woke to the unfamiliar weight of a forearm slung across my hips, to the solid heat of a body molded against my back.Taek’s breathing was a slow, even tide against my neck. The smell of him—sweat and sex and clean skin—was on the sheets, on me.For a single, suspended moment, there was only peace.
Then the memory descended, not as a shock, but as a dense, settling fact.The workshop.The bar. His bed.The things we’d done, the words we’d said. My pulse quickened, a frantic bird trapped behind my ribs.I closed my eyes, forcing a slow breath. He’s still here, I told myself.You didn’t scare him off.
As if sensing my waking, his arm tightened, pulling me closer.His lips brushed my shoulder blade. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice sleep-roughened and deep.
“Morning.” The word felt too small for the cathedral of feeling inside my chest.
He shifted, rolling onto his back with a sigh, one hand coming up to rub his face. The sheet fell to his waist, revealing the stark lines of his torso, the dark trail of hair below his navel. I looked, then looked away, a fresh wave of heat climbing my throat.I’d touched all of that. My body remembered vividly.“Coffee,” he declared, throwing the covers back. The morning air was cool on my naked skin.He stood, gloriously unselfconscious, and walked out of the room. I heard the faint click of the kettle, the rumble of the fridge. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the domestic sounds of him moving through his house. It was profoundly ordinary and utterly disorienting.He returned with two steaming mugs, handing one to me before climbing back in. He sat propped against the headboard, the sheet pooled in his lap. I sat up, holding my mug with both hands, letting the heat anchor me.
“Sleep okay?” he asked, taking a sip.“Surprisingly, yes.” I glanced at him. “You?”
“Best sleep I’ve had in months.” He said it simply, a statement of fact. His eyes found mine over the rim of his mug.“Regret is a hell of an insomniac. Didn’t have any last night.”
The directness was a lance of light through my fog. I took a shaky breath.“Taek, I need to say something. I’m still—”
The front door flew open with a bang.
“Housekeeping!” Jess’s voice echoed down the hall, bright and merciless.I froze, mug halfway to my lips. Taek’s eyebrows shot up.Before I could even process the violation, her footsteps pounded closer.
“You two better be decent, I brought bagels!” she called out, and then she was standing in the bedroom doorway, a paper bag in one hand, her keys in the other. Her eyes swept the scene: the tangle of sheets, our naked shoulders, the mugs of coffee. A wide, wicked grin split her face.
“Oh, you are so not decent,” she purred. “Excellent.”
“Jess!” I shrieked, yanking the sheet up to my chin.“What the fuck? How did you even get in?”
“Spare key, rock garden, elephant statue,” she said, waving a dismissive hand as she strode in and dropped the bag on the dresser.“Standard best friend protocol. Had to see the carnage for myself.” She turned her assessing gaze on Taek.“And you.Looking relaxed. Finally.”
Taek didn’t flinch.He didn’t even pull the sheet up. He just took another sip of his coffee, a slow smile spreading across his face.“Morning, Jess. Bagels, huh? You’re a saint.”
“I am.” She folded her arms, leaning against the dresser.“So?Details.Spare none. Start with who made the first move last night.My money’s on Taek. He’s had that hungry wolf look for years.”
My face was on fire.I wanted to sink into the mattress and disappear. “Jess, for God’s sake, can you give us a minute?Put some clothes on? Something?”
“Why?” She shrugged, her eyes gleaming. “I’m not the one who’s seen everything already.This is just a wholesome morning-after check-in.” She glanced at Taek. “She’s blushing.That’s cute. Means you did something right.”
Taek chuckled, a low, warm sound. He finally set his mug on the nightstand and stretched, the muscles in his arms and chest shifting.He was completely at ease, entirely unashamed. “She’s blushing because you’re a menace, Jess. And because you’re right.” He looked at me then, his dark eyes soft but amused.“I did make the first move. At the bar. Told her I wanted her in my bed.”
“Oh, hell yes.” Jess pumped a fist.“Direct.I approve.” She leaned toward me.“And you? Did you put up a fight? Or did you just melt into a puddle of need?”
“Jess!” I hissed, mortified.Taek laughed again. He reached over and put a hand on my knee under the sheet, his thumb stroking my skin.“She melted.Beautifully. Then she begged.It was perfect.”
I gasped, swatting his arm. “I did not beg!”
“You said ‘please,’” he corrected, his tone dropping into that intimate, rasping register that went straight to my core. “You said ‘now.’ That’s begging in my book.”
Jess howled with laughter.“I love this!I love all of this! Look at you two, all coupled up and shit. It’s about damn time.” She wiped a mock tear from her eye.“My work here is done.Sort of. I still want the filthy details, but I’ll extract those from you later, Alex, when he’s not around to glamour you with his…” she gestured vaguely at Taek’s torso, “…everything.”
She pushed off the dresser.“Bagels are everything.Cream cheese in the bag. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She winked at me, then pointed a finger at Taek. “You.Be good to her. Or I’ll key that pretty truck of yours.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Taek said, giving her a mock salute.
And then she was gone, her footsteps retreating, the front door clicking shut behind her. A ringing silence filled the room, broken only by the frantic thumping of my heart.I buried my face in my hands. “Oh my god.I’m going to kill her. Slowly.”
Taek’s hand slid from my knee up my thigh, the touch proprietary and calming. “She’s just happy for you.For us.” He pried one of my hands away from my face. “And she’s right.You are blushing. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m embarrassed,” I mumbled, looking anywhere but at him.
“Don’t be.” He tugged me toward him. I resisted for a second, then let him pull me across the sheets until I was straddling his lap, the sheet falling away between us.My bare breasts pressed against his chest. His hands settled on my hips, big and warm.“She’s our friend. This is just… reality now.People knowing.” His expression sobered. “Does that freak you out?”
I looked down at him, at the quiet intensity in his eyes, at the mouth that had done such devastating things to me. The embarrassment was still there, a hot coil in my stomach, but underneath it was something else, something steadier.He wasn’t hiding. He was sitting here, naked, with my best friend’s blessing, holding me like I was his.
“A little,” I admitted. “But less than I thought it would.” I traced the line of his collarbone with my finger. “You didn’t even try to cover up.”
“Why would I?” He shifted beneath me, and I felt him, hard and insistent against my inner thigh. “I’m not ashamed of this.Of you.” His hands tightened on my hips. “I want everyone to know.”
The raw possessiveness in his words sent a thrill through me, erasing the last of my shame.I rolled my hips, grinding against the length of him. A sharp gasp escaped his lips.“Yeah?” I whispered, feeling bold, feeling new.
In answer, he lifted me effortlessly, positioned me, and then pulled me down, sheathing himself inside me in one smooth, deep stroke.I cried out, my head falling back as he filled the aching, empty space perfectly.
“Fuck, Alex,” he groaned, his hands gripping my ass, guiding my rhythm. “Like this. Take what you want.”
I moved on him, riding him slowly at first, then faster, driven by a need that was part recklessness, part affirmation.He was mine. This was ours.Jess knew.The world could know. His fingers dug into my flesh as he thrust up to meet me, our bodies meeting in a wet, slapping rhythm. The sounds were lewd, obscene, glorious.
“You feel so good,” he panted, his eyes locked on mine, watching me fall apart above him. “So fucking good wrapped around my cock.”
I came with a shattered cry, my inner muscles clenching around him in pulsing waves. He followed instantly, his hips jerking upwards as he emptied himself deep inside me with a guttural moan.
We slumped together, a mess of sweat and spent desire.His lips moved against my damp throat. “See?” he breathed. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
A laugh bubbled out of me, shaky and real.The door was probably still unlocked.The bagels were getting cold. Our friend had seen us naked. And he was still here, his heart hammering against mine, his body still joined to mine.“Okay,” I said, the word a vow this time.
“Okay,” he echoed.
We stayed like that, tangled and sticky, for a long while, until the sun climbed higher and the room grew warm. The future was a vast, uncertain terrain, but for now, we were anchored here, in the unmistakable, messy reality of what we’d become.