Bold New Moves

What happens when you start as friends? It's said that if you're friends first you'll be lovers for a lifetime.  Do you remember those initial flutter? That churning in your gut feeling, afraid the other person just isn't into you the same way? 

Storytime does not own rights to this photo. See stockphoto.

Bold New Moves

 by 

Ben Hannigan

I can’t do this.  I’m terrified, worried sick, my lungs are on fire, I can barely breathe. I watch as my hands shake and tremor, barely able to light my cigarette, the flickering flame blurring and sputtering into the wind. I keep swearing and my roll-up flutters to the floor and I almost fall scrabbling for it. The concrete cool against my skin contrasting against the blinding white pain flaring through my body as I crack my head on the table.

I hear an amused chuckle and I catch in the reflection on the steel table a look that makes my stomach do backflips, a smile so blinding it radiates through me. “BOLLOCKS” my mind screams as I realize my crush is, as always early. She smiles and flicks open a lighter she carries because I, her best friend smoke and effortlessly lights my dogeared scrag end scrounged from the floor.  For me as she orders my favorite drink from memory. I take a slow drag and start to calm though my heart is pounding, throbbing, the noise of my body echoing through my chest, over the buzzing of the air-con, over the crap bar music, even almost managing to cover up her voice.  She’s gorgeous!

I tear open the bag of crisps for us to pick at and blush, purring inwardly at each fleeting touch. We are talking about everything and nothing. I barely remember anything and yet… Yet I know her as she knows me; hopes, dreams, fears music taste, clothes and everything that makes us, well us.

And yet, she doesn’t know, she can’t know what my body and mind screams, what I desire and lust for, what I need and desire, what I am begging for each night in my single bed alone.

I mumble and blush and she asks me to speak up.  It takes me about half an hour or so it seems, the sweat pooling in my shirt as I finally get the courage to potentially destroy my relationship with my best friend. She pauses coughing in shock her eyes wide, as her heart pounds and I can see into her eyes she isn’t interested, I’m sure. I stutter blushing, grovelling my apologies. “I guess I better go.” I stand to leave pushing my chair into the table and turning away biting my lip to hold the tears a little, I move to walk away and I start heading to the door.

I’m outside swearing inside my head that I’ve blown it, starting the bike with a kick-start. Because I can vent my anger the bastard thing starts after three kicks, the engine roaring up into life, muffling my anger in smoke and sound.

As I swing my leg over the bike I hear the pannier unbuckling and I turn my head to see her slipping the helmet I bought for her use on.  She’s in her leather jacket and has her gloves on as normal. I heard the crackle of the intercom as the bike dropped slightly, her body pressed into mine. “Take me home, to our bed. Please, please tell me this is real. I couldn’t bear it if you were joking.”

My heart leaps, pounding as I opened the throttle and grinned. “My bunny.  Let’s go home.” I didn’t need the headset to hear the whoop of joy at my answer before she giggled as the bike powered through the tunnel, the front wheel flicked up with a dab of the clutch,  hearing that giggle that stopped my heart every time and feeling the familiar squeezing of her sliding her hand round my waist. I blushed, losing myself into joy and love as her hand slipped far lower than it ever had before, promising so much more than before, my world becoming so much more; more intense, more beautiful.