Brayden
Beautiful.
That’s what I think of the woman standing before me, fretting over her hair for the hundreth time before we went out to dinner with her boyfriend and the girl she’s trying to set me up with - her boyfriend’s sister.
I sigh, reiterating - “Belle, you look beautiful as always. Your hair is perfect.”
She scoffs at me, rolling her eyes. “You always say that. But nothing I do is making my hair feel like its that perfect balance of simple and regal. We aren’t going to Applebees, Brayden. We are going to THE Osteria 57! Speaking of, what are you wearing?” Belle’s eyes widen, taking in my appearance.
I look down at my choice of clothing - what’s wrong with it? Jeans, a clean t-shirt, and my workboots - okay, maybe I could have put on some cleaner shoes. “What exactly would you prefer, Belle? This is what I like.”
Belle laughs - oh how I love that sound - and starts walking towards the drawer where she always keeps extra clothes for me in her apartment. I guess being the best friend has its perks, even if it’s not what I want.
I have been silently pleading for Belle to notice me since we were 13 and 14 years old - I have never been able to take my sight off of her.
We met when we were just kids - 8 and 9 years old. She tried to peck my lips as a silly joke on the floor of my moms kitchen while we were hiding in a tent. I pulled away - she scared me. But I never forgot the moment.
When we became teenagers though, I noticed as she formed beautiful breasts that seemed to just keep growing. Her hips became wider, yet her stomach kept a beautiful petite shape.
I watched her move from one boyfriend to the next, even trying to get her to cancel dates, saying they weren’t good guys. But stubborn as ever, she didn’t back down. Of course, they all ended up being douchebags - telling her she was never going to be good enough, leaving her for someone skinnier with no shape, or even telling her she needed to lose weight. I could have killed all of them. It was torture, really. But the alternative of leaving was even worse - I could never break her heart like that, or even my own. How could you possibly move on from someone that is woven into the fabric of your life?
To make things worse, she has never realized how beautiful she is, constantly wanting to change something about her appearance. As a teen, her hair was a light brown, shining with gold strands when the sunlight hit. Today, her hair is a shining blonde down to her waist. She used to dress in tshirts and jeans - now she has to dress in leggings and hoodies when she’s not going anywhere, and spend her money on upscale clothes for both her and this arrogant boyfriend just to get attention from him to go out together. It sickens me how much she has changed for him.
My train of thought is cut short as I watch her bend over, searching my drawer. By God, this woman was sent to Earth to torture me. I feel my pants get tight as I catch a glimpse of a dark red thong beneath her dress, the fabric swishing around her smooth ass. The things I would do to that virgin hole…
“Aha! Here,” Belle shoves an outfit into my chest, smiling at me with shining eyes. “Although I love your typical relaxed look, you need to look impressive tonight. Audrey is going to love you!”
I roll my eyes. I don’t give a shit about impressing Audrey. The only woman I want is completely oblivious to my feelings, and I will keep it that way. At least, until I can’t anymore. “I don’t care about impressing her,” I drawl, heading to the bathroom nonetheless.
“Why not?” Belle pushes, jutting out her hip with her hand on it, blocking the door.
“Because I’m waiting for the right girl,” I reply, trying to move around her.
“She could be that girl!” Belle says, her eyes shining with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“Okay Belle. I’ll give it a shot,” I give in, just wanting to get changed at this point. I shove the clothes under my arm before picking her up and moving her out of the way. She lets out a squeal, the sound radiating to my cock. Fuck.
“Seriously? Since when do you run to the bathroom to change?” I hear her giggle out. Since you gave me a show and a raging hard-on, I think. I laugh and continue on my way, leaving the door open just slightly to her bathroom.
Here’s to another night of longing, I think. Another night of watching her swat his hand under the table, blushing.
One day, she will see that he’s not good enough for her. Just a lowlife mommy’s boy riding on her money.
