The More Duet: More than Friends & No More Heartache

I’VE PERFECTED the best friend role now for seventeen years as I’ve been best friends with Sterling Cranefield since we were in 5th grade. Throughout our school years, we were seated next to one another in our classroom thanks to the alphabet, as well as our families lived across the street from one another.

I remember it clearly when her family moved in that summer between 4th and 5th grade. Being an only child, I didn’t have the luxury to constantly have someone my age around. I took solace in the backyard in the tree house my dad built me and that’s where I was when their moving truck rolled in. I peaked my head out of the window and see people moving boxes upon boxes. Then, like any other slow-motioned moment in time, I saw her. She was wearing acid washed overalls, a bright pink shirt and her dirty blonde hair in braids. Excited that a new kid moved onto our street, I ran through the house yelling at my mom to bake cookies for the new neighbors. While my father just snickered at me, my mom joined me in looking out the front living room window before she hurried into the kitchen.

That afternoon, my mother made me wait a few hours until I barged in on the new neighbors. I clumsily held the platter of chocolate chips cookies and made my way across the street with my mother close on my heels. I may have had chocolate on my face from eating a cookie on the way over to their house to calm my boyish nerves, because when that little girl’s mother, who still to this day makes me call her ‘mama’ answered that door, I heard giggles directly behind her when my mother and I introduced ourselves. That was the day that Sterling Cranefield came into my life and by no means do I ever want her not a part of my life.

Through the years, our friendship became irreplaceable. We were always stuck to one another’s side. In high school, she leaned on me when she needed and vice-versa. As we got older, I accumulated a crush on her – I pushed it aside swearing it was hormones, but it wasn’t until we were both in college at San Diego State, which my crush became full blown. I stayed in the best friend role and never let my feelings be known, but I watched her date countless d-bags and my heart had hurt when her heart was broken.

So here I am, Dane Crawford, a successful 28 year old who owns his own Architecture Engineering business in San Diego, California who silently pines after his best friend since childhood. Sterling probably doesn’t even know I’ve had such a crush on her for years, but if she does— well then, she’s really good at pretending it doesn’t exist. She’s been dating a guy for the past year, he owns a bar downtown and while I would love to say that I like the guy, I don’t.

“Ack, why does my mom have to send me gloves and scarves every winter, doesn’t she know I live in San Diego, land of ‘It’s always frickin’ beautiful here?’” Sterling complains as she throws herself and a mail package on my couch.

“Probably, because she’s hoping that you will go and visit her and your dad in… wait, where are they living now?” I asked, honestly forgetting.

“Flagstaff,” she mumbles. “Besides, like other retired people that live in Arizona, shouldn’t they want to come out here, where’s its magical and warm during the winter times?”

I snicker as I hand her a beer. “You know Mama, she’s just trying to place hints out there in hopes that you can read her silent message. She’s always been that way, never outright saying what she wants.”

“Don’t remind me. Her silently telling me my prom dress was tucked into my underwear wasn’t exactly so helpful as I walked out the door with Tom Masters.”

I laugh, because for one, it was funny and two, because I was the one who had to let her into the fact as to why I couldn’t control my laughter as she had her ass in my face getting out of the limo our group rented that night.

She rolls her eyes and we fall into a comfortable silence as she flips through stations on the television. Eventually, she lands on a re-run of “Friends” and we take turns sipping on our beers. Occasionally, I will watch her laugh at Chandler and Joey’s antics from my peripheral vision. Her laugh always makes my heart palpitate. My phone vibrates on the table as I get a text message. I slowly reach forward to grab my phone and check who it could be disturbing my bi-weekly alone time with Sterling.

“Is that Melissa?” Sterling asks hitching an eyebrow with a smile.

“No, that’s done,” I say like it’s nothing. “It’s Max. Just work stuff” Max is my guy best friend. We were brothers at Sigma Chi in College and then we became business partners. His text has nothing to do with work, but more of making fun of me for my alone time with Sterling.

“Oh. Wait, what happened to Melissa?” she asks turning towards me.

“Nothing. It wasn’t anything serious, and we ran our course. Simple as that,” I shrug.

“Uh huh. You know, you’ve never had a real relationship outside of Tamera. Are you going to become a cat lady?” she teases.

“Nah. I know one day I will find my…. What do those chick flicks call it … oh yeah; a soul mate,” I joke, well aware that my soul mate is sitting across from me chugging on her beer and poking fun at me.

She giggles and leans into me. We continue watching random things on television and drinking beers well into the night. When she eventually falls asleep, I carry her to the guest room and tuck her in. I smooth her hair from her forehead and gently kiss her. I turn off the light and back out of the room so I’m not just staring at her like a creepy stalker. Another day down.

I awake the next morning to the smell of bacon. The nights that Sterling sleeps over are my favorite for many selfish reasons. Bacon is one of those reasons and I’m not afraid to admit it. I throw on my track pants and shuffle into the kitchen and sit at the island. Sterling has her earbuds in, her long blonde hair piled in a messy bun on the top of her head, her back is to me as she awkwardly wiggles in front of the stove in just her t-shirt and underwear. I silently groan and adjust myself on my stool as I watch her … if you can call it this… dancing skills.

I don’t know how long I was sitting there watching her. She eventually turns around to grab something on the island between us and jumps as she notices me perched on the barstool feet away from her, watching her with a smirk on my face.

Thank goodness the island is hiding my intense desire that’s built in my pants from her show. She removes the ear buds and smiles at me. I think I may have grunted a ‘good morning’ to her, but all I can hear right now is my heartbeat and it’s beating fast. Silently, she grabs a mug from the cabinet next to the stove, she had to get on her tippy-toes as the mugs are generally in the far back of the cabinet, causing her shirt to inch up and I can see the skin right above her waistline, those two dimples on her back. I silently, I hope groan again and once again adjust myself as she fills my mug with coffee and then turns back to me.

“Thanks for the tuck-in last night,” she smiles.

“My pleasure” was all I could muster up saying. This scene isn’t a new scene that occurs. Over the years, I think I’ve had this morning encounter on a monthly basis. Sometimes, she wears pajama pants, sometimes she’s clad in only underwear, regardless either outfit works for me.

“Breaky is almost done, but I need to take mine to go, I have an early case this morning and I’m trying to get as much done before the weekend so Ryan and I can escape to Julian.”

I just nod to not show much of my indifference. Sterling is aware that I’m not Ryan’s biggest fan. I used to see him hit on several of the college age chicks who came into his bar before they started dating. It’s not just the fact that I want his girl. I just don’t think he’s that good of a guy, and he definitely isn’t good enough for her.

She plates my breakfast and Tupperware’s hers and rushes over to the guest room. A minute later, she’s emerged looking like she’s ready to conquer the day. She comes to my side, kisses my cheek and she’s out the door in a whirlwind.

I loudly exhale. For some reason my silent longing for her this morning was a lot harder than other mornings. I shovel the eggs and bacon into my mouth and start to get on with my day.

A good servicing in the shower is the only thing that’s on my mind to break up my dirty thoughts of Sterling.

As I’m stepping in the shower, I grab the soap and begin a good lather. My hand trails down my stomach, and soon my hand is fisting my straining cock. I move my hand back and forth on my shaft. My breaths are shallow as I lean my forehead against the shower tile.

I twist my cock as I near the tip and let out a low groan, just as my bathroom door opens and I hear someone clearing their throat.

I’M STANDING over my drafting desk in the corner of my office. My office door opens and I look over my shoulder as Maxwell Hunter, my partner comes over to my side. He clasps me on the shoulder and grins.

“Betsy has a friend she would like to hook you up with,” he states with a wicked grin.

“Not interested,” I say as I erase a wall on the blueprint in front of me. I take my ruler and add the wall, to a different area. I stand back to admire my handy-work as if I just built an empire.

“Sorry dude, this is the 3rd one she’s offered up. I can’t just flat out tell her why you won’t go on these dates. I mean I could, but your panties are so bunched up – that I can’t.”

“Double date?” I counter hoping he agrees as blind dates are generally horrible.

“I’ll check, but if she says yes, then there’s no backing out this time.”

I nod my head as if in agreeance. At least maybe with this chick, she’ll be hot enough, and my sexual frustration can get subsided again. I was mid-session this morning, when Sterling caught me in the bathroom. She stood there, a quick moment, then she quickly turned around and then darted out of the house before I could compose myself. My ex, Melissa and I didn’t even last a month, the sex was horrible and all I wanted to do was jack off before our dates to not have the desire when her hands found their way to my dick. I haven’t gotten laid since, and it’s been quite frustrating.

I had thought that Max left, however he was just sitting on my leather couch behind me, texting on his cell. “Confirmed. no backing out, Friday night,” he taunts.

That leaves me two days, to mentally try to get Sterling to the back of my mind. Hell, romantically – I’m not even in the front of hers, why can’t I have some fun? This is a process, I’ve had to do every time a hook-up or something resembling a romance presented itself. Again, I nod in agreement to appease my friend so I can further concentrate on the plans in front of me. I should be interested, but I’m just not.

* * *

I SLOWLY OPEN the doors to The Manhattan, then scan the restaurant for my party, finding them standing at the bar with drinks in their hands.

How late am I? I ask myself.

I walk over and smile at Betsy while I approach. My date is busying herself talking animatedly to Max, so I drink her in. She would come up to just past my shoulders, long strawberry blonde hair, freckled shoulders, so that means there’s freckles elsewhere. I round to her side and Max finally notices me. She turns to me and she’s beautiful. She has rich blue eyes, freckles on her upper cheeks, and some very pale pink lips – not too big and not too small. She audibly gasps and practically whispers a hello.

I reach out my hand to shake hers and offer her a smirk. “Nice to meet you, Bets here didn’t mention how beautiful you were, otherwise – this wouldn’t have been a double date,” I tease with a wink.

She’s still unable to speak. I hope that she’s just nervous and not shy. But she blushes, and she takes my hand in hers. My hands are twice as big as hers, so they disappear within our handshake. I’m still waiting for her or one of my friends to tell me her name but no one speaks. I release her hand and the hostess alerts us our table is ready.

The girls walk in front of Max and myself. “So, what’s her name?” I ask.

“Kendra. She’s a paralegal, downtown in the DA’s office, she works on the same team as Betsy. And, she’s obviously attracted to you, with her reaction when you first walked up,” Max boasts.

I smile and take my seat at the table. Dinner goes well, and conversation with all of us goes smoothly. By the end of the night, I’m ready to see where this goes, I’ve mentally chastised myself for thinking of Sterling a few times during dinner comparing the two girls, I should give this a chance.

“So Kendra, rather than finishing our night now, it’s still relatively early, want to walk down the street and have a drink before the end of the night? We can leave these two old farts to go watch the 10 o’clock news,” I suggest as our party exits the front doors.

A blush creeps up on her cheeks again, I happen to now think it’s adorable. “Sure, why not,” she breathes.

We say our goodbyes to Betsy and Max and begin walking down the street. We walk side by side in silence for roughly five minutes. We walk up to The Dirty Dozen Tavern, and I open the door for her. Since I’ve been here a few times so I know the layout mostly. We walk up to the bar and I order our drinks. Two fingers of scotch for me and a dry martini for her. We find a small 2-person booth in the back and take our seats.

“So, why is it that Betsy had to set you up on a blind date?” I question raising my eyebrow. What’s her defect?

“I work too much, and the only social life I have is the gym. Betsy would come into the office and always wonder why I never had any exciting stories to tell her on Monday morning on our lunches. So, she took it upon herself to make me date.”

I think that was the most words she’s said at once since we’ve met. Her voice is sweet and the small breaths that she takes when she needs to kind of peaks my interest as well as makes me think of sex. “What about you?” She counters.

“Max is my partner, since Betsy and he started dating a few years ago – she’s made it her life’s purpose to set me up with someone. I broke it off with someone a while ago and since she’s been bugging me to go on dates… so after enough of her tries, I said yes… and here we are.” I lean back placing my arms on the top of the booth beside me.

She smiles a wicked smile and practically guzzles down her drink. As if she’s finally relaxed. I signal the waitress at the high table in the middle of the room and order another round of drinks.

It’s after our 5th drink that the bartender rings his last call bell. I’ve paid up the tab. And we walk back out onto the street. There’s a small wind chill out and I place my sports coat over her shoulders. Since we’re slightly buzzed, we’ve become more comfortable with another and I drop my arm casually over her shoulder. She leans into me as we start walking back to our cars. All of a sudden, realization slaps me across the face and I stop in my tracks, causing her to stumble a bit. She giggles as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. I turn her to me with my arms around her back.

“Neither of us should be driving, we should probably call a cab,” I say.

She looks up at me, her eyes slightly glassy from drinking and a fuck me pout forming on her lips.

“Does that mean we have to say goodbye, right now?” she whispers.

“That’s entirely up to you doll.”

She leans closer to me in a brave movement and lifts up on her tippy toes, my head leans down and our lips meet in the middle. It’s a tentative kiss at first, but as a moan escapes her I slide my tongue into her mouth and against hers. I’m holding her by the waist and my other arm goes up her back and rests behind her head drawing her into me more. She’s gripping my waist as if she may fall over if she lets go. My thoughts are racing; should I or shouldn’t I? We’ve been drinking, so we’re both impaired. What if she wants more? What if I want more? Sterling? My tongue continues to assault her mouth with vigor for what feels like forever, we both pull back breathless.

Still in my arms, she’s breathless. She leans her head against my cheek, tucks herself under my chin and wraps her arms around me. “I want you to come home with me. But I think that we should call it a night,” she whispers seeming unsure.

“That perfectly fine.” I say. I let the moment continue wrapping my arms around her as well. I eventually pull out my phone and call up a cab.

As we’re waiting, we’re still embracing. My chin is now resting atop her head. “Kendra?” I start.

“Hmmm mmmm?” she breathes out.

“Can I see you tomorrow night?” I surprise myself in saying. It must be the alcohol.

She pulls back to look at me. She has a smile on her face. Again, she leans up on her tippy toes and presses her lips to mine.

“I would love that,” she says as a cab pulls up to the curb. I open the door for her and follow her into the cab. She’s surprised that I’m also getting in.

“Two destinations sir. The lady first though, please,” I state tucking her into my side as she proceeds to give him her address, and I try to take note for reference later.

The ride to her place is uneventful. My fingers are caressing her arm as we drive for the remaining 10 minutes of our night. When the cabbie stops in front of a Victorian in Golden Hill, I step out for a moment with her. I pull her to me and lean down to capture her lips with mine. A soft and sweet kiss to say goodnight and I pull away. I wait until she closes her front door and then return to my seat in the cab. This is going to be an expensive ride home. But I sigh and figure, that it was worth it. Kendra and I could amount to something, if only there wasn’t Sterling.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out.

It’s Sterling. The one woman that I can’t get off of my mind. And do I really want to? She’s my best friend. I need to stop thinking about her in ay other way.

Sterling: Listen, about the bathroom. I should have knocked.

I see the dancing dots, indicating that she’s typing more. Then they disappear, and reappear again. Then as I stare at my phone, the dancing dots reappear again, and my stomach is doing somersaults in anticipation.

I could use a drink.