Free Backstage Pass by Elizabeth Nelson

the middle of his thighs, and I unclenched my fingers.

    He laughed. “Thanks. That’s some grip.”

    I rubbed them briskly, then froze when he stiffened. At least he’d changed into running pants and I wasn’t touching his bare skin.

    His fingers slid across the neck of my shirt and I bit my lip. He worked the top of my chest muscle—no differently than any other massage—but my heart hadn’t ever sped up like this. The pressure eased, and his touch became a caress across my skin. I arched my back and his fingers dipped lower over the curve of my breast, stretching the neck of my shirt. Warm breath tickled my hair and his lips pressed against my ear. My palms flattened against his thighs and I rubbed them in slow circles. He leaned us back. Trading the neck of my shirt for the hem, he slid his hand across my stomach, making my skin jump. His tongue traced the edge of my ear and I tipped my face, granting him access to my neck. As his hands slid higher and cupped my breasts, I arched my back and the curve of my ass rubbed against him.

    He froze. My hands stilled on his thigh. I could feel his heart pounding against my back and his heavy breathing lifted me up and down. Slowly, he pulled his hand from under my shirt and pressed his forehead against my ear.

    “I can’t be just friends, Sasha.” He sat up and tucked his fingers beneath my hips, then eased me a few inches away. “This was a bad idea.”

    Was it? Two days ago I’d been certain about how I felt. Now I wasn’t so sure. His thighs were rock hard beneath my fingers. I should move, but something inside knew if I did there’d be no going back. I’d forever seal him into the Friend Zone.

    That’s what I wanted, right?

    My hard lines were beginning to blur. Maybe he really is different.

    I stiffened and lifted my hands into my own lap. No.

    Easing my way over his thighs, I scooted to the far side of the couch. When I met his eyes, I flinched. He saw the exit sign to the Friend Zone too.

    It’s the only way, Sasha.

    “You’re right. I’m sorry. If we’re going to be friends, we should cool all the touching.” My guts jumped at my words. A sure sign that my lines weren’t just blurred—they didn’t even exist anymore.

CHAPTER 7

    By the time Kerri came back, Jesse had already made his awkward departure. We didn’t bother making a plan of when we’d see each other next, and his tortured look haunted me all the way through the Chinese. Even Mr. Woo’s secret sauce did nothing to ease my discomfort.

    Kerri popped the back half of her eggroll into her mouth. “So what happened?”

    “Nothing. Seriously, we were on the couch—”

    “Cuddled up like a pair of mittens.”

    I snorted my Coke. “Mittens?”

    She shrugged and stole one of my wontons. “Best I could come up with. I’ve never seen you cuddle like that.”

    Warmth crept up my neck. “We weren’t cuddling.”

    She lifted an eyebrow and didn’t even bother to respond.

    “Okay. We were cuddling, but he was rubbing my shoulders.”

    “Mmm-hmm.”

    My palms still tingled. His toned legs were hot. I hadn’t expected that. I don’t know what I expected—clearly I’d never thought I’d be rubbing them. And based on what he was pressing into my backside, he thought some of my parts were hot too.

    I glance up into Kerri’s intense stare. “What . . . else . . . happened? Ohmigod. Sasha!”

    My blush intensified and she raced around the counter. “You did not. Did you guys make out again? ”

    I jammed a forkful of sweet ‘n sour chicken into my mouth and shook my head.

    “You liar.” She pushed my shoulder and jammed her fists into her hips. “Tell me.”

    I closed my eyes and gave my head the barest of nods.

    “Why don’t you torture the guy already. After you made out did you remind him of the friend thing?”

    Another tiny nod.

    She tossed her head back and groaned. “You’re evil. Plain evil.”

    I swallowed. “I thought it was the drugs at