Down by the River Ch. 02

"There was a time when I thought you considered me your best friend," he said softly, his eyes – so cold, so accusatory – never leaving my face. "I thought you did not mind spending time alone with me. I walked you home believing that you enjoyed my company. Was I wrong all those times?"

I shook my head, wiping away the last of my tears. "No. You're my best friend. You know that I love being with you. Nothing changed that."

The look on his face told me that he did not believe anything I said. He nodded to the path in front of him – the path that led to our hut. "We're halfway there, Selene. Neither of us wants the other's company, fine, but I wanted to see how your grandmother was doing, so I thought I should walk you home. If I had known that this is how you'd react, I would have dragged James with us."

I turned my back to him just as fresh tears started rolling down my face again. It was one thing to feel that he did not want to be with me; it was another to hear a confirmation of it.

Why did it have to hurt so much?

*****

Grandmother was more than delighted when she saw Lucas with me. She immediately gave him a hug, telling him how she had missed him. If I were not in such low spirits, I would have smiled when I saw tears of joy in my grandmother's eyes. I have always known that she liked Lucas far more than she liked either Jim or Danny.

"You have a lot to tell me, young man," she said as she led Lucas into the hut.

She looked at me then, and I knew what she saw: her granddaughter desperately trying not to cry in front of her. But she did not say anything – as I knew she would not. Grandmother would never ask me questions that she thought were too personal; she would wait until I told her about what was bothering me. Not that I had any intention of telling her; I did not even know why it bothered me so much.

I excused myself by telling Grandmother that I would fetch some water from the river. As I was passing by them, I made the mistake of glancing at Lucas. He looked somewhat thoughtful, and I knew what was running through his mind: the scene that he witnessed more than a year ago – Marcus and I in each other's arms, making love.

Almost running, I went out of the hut and grabbed the bucket outside. I only started weeping loudly when I knew that nobody would hear me.

I would never regret having made love to Marcus, but I wished Lucas never saw us. Whenever I saw the accusation behind Lucas' stares, I could only imagine what he was thinking about me. A strumpet, a whore. It was not a crime to love, was it? Why did things like this have to happen, then? Why could I not love Marcus and keep my best friend? What Lucas saw in their house earlier would not make anything better: Jim acting as if there was something going on between us.

Not for the first time that day, I wanted Jim to be with me so that I could yell at him and blame him some more. He could not imagine how much it hurt me to know that Lucas would never look at me with respect ever again.

As soon as I arrived at the river, I went inside the shed Marcus built for me. The blanket we used to always use was folded on the bench. I lay down on that bench, using the blanket as a pillow, and cried, wishing as I held it close that it was Marcus instead. I wanted him here so that he could hold me, comfort me. I wanted him to listen, wanted him to tell me what I was supposed to do.

I might have fallen asleep, for when I opened my eyes again, it was definitely sunset. I also knew that I was not alone in the river anymore, for the blanket was already covering me, instead of lying under my head. Slowly, I sat up, looking at the river. I saw the figure of a man half-emerged on the water. I did not need any light to know that it was Lucas.

With a sigh, I folded the blanket and placed it back on the bench before walking outside. I noticed all of Lucas' clothes lying on the grass, so I knew that he was completely naked there in the water. Curiously, it did not bother me. He looked at me as I watched him.

"Your grandmother asked me to follow you when it took you so long to fetch water," he said, breaking the silence between us. "She invited me to stay the night, so when I saw you sleeping in the shed, I decided not to wake you up."

I only sighed as I sat on a nearby rock. I did not know what to say. All the while, I could feel Lucas' eyes on me. When I met his eyes, I could not look away.

"Would you like to join me?" he asked quietly.

With a small smile, I shook my head. "It's late."

He sighed and started heading for the bank. Alarmed, I turned away. I knew that he was completely naked; I did not want to see.

We walked in silence through the woods, and for the first time that day, I was comfortable being with him.

"Do you remember when we were children?" I found myself saying. "When you and Jim and Danny would sleep over at our hut? Grandmother would always scold the two of us for going for a swim in the river. She always knew that, if we were not home by sunset, she would find us down there."

Lucas did not speak for a while. When he did, he hurt me – again. "Those times are long gone now, Selene. I cannot go to that river without..."

He did not finish his statement, but I knew what he wanted to say. He could not go to that river without remembering what he saw.

"And now you hate me," I said softly, biting my lower lip in order not to start crying again. "I only loved, Lucas. Is that a crime?"

His silence made everything more painful.

"Can't we stay as friends, Lucas?" I asked, almost desperate, as I looked at him.

He was not looking at me, but straight ahead. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but in the dark, I could not know for sure. "No, Selene. I'm sorry."

There was nothing in the world that could have hurt me more.

*****

That night, I dreamt. I was bathing in the river, letting the coolness of its water caress my naked body. From behind, strong arms wound themselves around my waist. A masculine body pressed itself close. I closed my eyes and leaned against him, moaning softly when I felt his lips on my neck, my shoulder.

His hands started caressing my breasts, making my knees turn to jelly. My whole body was on fire. Nothing existed in the world anymore – not the river, not the forest: only the two of us. I felt his hard member pressing against my back, and I reached for it, squeezed it.

He groaned, and a small smile touched my lips when I heard his voice. Slowly, he turned me around to face him. My eyes were still closed, but I knew who he was. I was familiar with the lips that captured mine in a kiss of pure passion. I was familiar with his masculine scent, familiar with the way he held me close.

The kiss ended, but his face was still close. I wound my arms around his neck, pressing my body closer to his. When I opened my eyes to look at his face, I knew exactly whose face it would be: Lucas's.

My whole body was still on fire when I woke up with a gasp. Sweat coated my skin; my throat was dry. A deep ache has developed between my thighs. Biting my lips, I threw my blanket off my body; its presence was not helping. I reached between my legs to find that I was wet. I started to stroke myself when I realized what I was doing. With a groan of frustration, I sat up.

I closed my eyes. Images from the dream played inside my head. The dream was so vivid that I could have believed it to be real – if only I did not know better than to assume that Lucas would hold me like that, kiss me like that. But, for certain, the passion it evoked in me was real; the ache between my thighs was proof of that.

Not knowing what else to do, I went out of the room, heading for the kitchen. I could at least remedy my thirst with a glass of water, if I could not remedy anything else.

Almost reaching the corner where our glasses were kept, I felt the soft blow of the wind on my skin. Immediately, my eyes were drawn to the door leading out of the kitchen to the place where Grandmother loved to spend most of her days. There was a bamboo bench there, together with a bamboo table, both of which were made by George about twelve years ago. As I suspected, the door was open, letting the air in. I was certain that I closed it before I went to sleep.

Frowning, I walked back to the living room to check on Lucas. Grandmother told him that he could use my room if he wished, and I would be sleeping with Grandmother, but Lucas declined, saying that he would rather sleep in the living room. His pillows and blanket were on the couch, but he was not there.

I walked back to the kitchen and headed to the open door to peek outside. Sure enough, Lucas was there, half-naked, leaning against the pole that held the roof over the bench and table George built for Grandmother. For a while, I debated against approaching him, but, deep in my heart, he was still my best friend. If he had a problem and he wanted to share it with me, I would gladly listen.

He turned when I was only a few steps away from him. I tentatively smiled. It seemed that he was in no mood to be cruel to me right then; his eyes did not show even the slightest hint of the coldness that had been there ever since he first saw me. He even managed to smile back, even if the smile had to be forced out of him.

I stopped when I saw the way his eyes appraised me. I always slept with a nightgown on, but I knew how thin its fabric is. In my confused state, I forgot to slip on a robe before going out of my room. Lucas stared at my chest, and I did not have to look down to know that my nipples were proudly standing erect beneath my nightgown.

Had I been thinking clearly, I would have turned away and ran back into the hut as soon as I could. But I was not thinking clearly at all. Somehow, I wanted to know how Lucas would react at the sight of me wearing next to nothing. The bulge that grew in his pants was answer enough. I should have left when I saw it, but I did not. Instead, I met his eyes when he looked back at my face.

"It's the cold night air, isn't it?"

His question was laced with a hint of amusement, of teasing. There was a twinkle in his eyes that reminded me of the Lucas I knew: the sweet, caring Lucas who, when we were younger, would carry me home on piggyback when I was too tired to walk, who would fight with Jim every time the younger boy would play cruel pranks on me, who would deliberately break rules set by my grandmother or his parents in order to give me what I wanted. It served to remind me that, beneath his cold front, my best friend still existed somewhere deep inside Lucas.

I smiled shyly, blushing a little, as I shook my head. "No."

He smiled then – he smiled the smile that was so my best friend's. A careless smile that revealed everything I loved about Lucas. "No? Not even going to attempt making excuses, are you?" "I thought I owe you the truth," I said.

With a sigh, he held out his hand for me. I took it without hesitation, seeing in his eyes every bit of the man I grew up with. He kissed the back of my hand as his other hand reached for my waist, pulling me towards him. As soon as his lips brushed against my skin, a frown appeared on his face. I was about to ask him what the matter was when he sniffed. With wide eyes, I remembered that it was the hand I used to check myself earlier. My face burned.

Lucas raised an eyebrow and looked at me. "What were you doing, Selene?"

"Nothing," I stammered, blushing some more when he grinned. He looked so sexy that I just wanted to melt in his arms. "I was sleeping."

I felt his tongue lightly touching the tip of my fingers. "Uh-huh." He winked at me. "Sleeping, are you?"

Feeling embarrassed and aroused at the same time, I stepped closer and rested my forehead on his shoulder. When his arms encircled me and pulled me closer as a chuckle shook him, I smiled, knowing that I had my best friend back. If only I could not feel a yearning for him deep inside my soul – and if only I could not feel his arousal pressing against my stomach, I would have concluded that we were having our reconciliation hug.

It might be strange, but I did not mind knowing that he wanted me sexually. I was even perfectly comfortable with the fact that I wanted him. What had me pulling away was the realization that, Lucas was right: we could not be friends anymore. When you finally realized just how much you wanted your friend (the way that I realized how much I was aching for Lucas), you would not be able to view your friendship the way you did before.

He let go of me as soon as he realized I was struggling to pull away, saying quietly, "I scared you, didn't I?"

I shook my head at that and made him look me in the eyes through placing his face between my palms and forcing him to look. "No, you don't scare me. I am afraid, however, that, as soon as this night is over, you are going to turn back to the cold, cruel Lucas that I hardly know. Promise me that you won't turn back to him."

A soft smile touched his lips. "I'm sorry if he scares you."

"Why does he have to exist, anyway?" I asked, running my hand through his hair. "This Lucas is perfect..."

"Not when it comes to shielding himself against pain," he answered, caressing my face with his gaze.

I took his hands and kissed them, leading him to the bench. "We have to talk, then."

He flinched slightly as he sat down. "Right now?"

"Right now," I answered, sitting beside him. "We need to talk before daylight takes you away again and replace you with that stranger Lucas."

"Selene, I promise not to let him take over come morning," he said, looking at me as he squeezed my hand. "I will talk to you about this in the morning."

"No," I insisted, shaking my head stubbornly. I wanted to believe him, but I was scared. "We need to talk right now."

"Don't you trust me, Selene?" he asked quietly.

"It's not about whether I trust you or not," I answered. "I trust you. Even as I insist on talking with you right now, my heart aches, because it knows that it can trust you. But I dare not." I held his hand as tightly as I could, as if holding it would help me hold back the tears that were suddenly trying to force their way out of my eyes. "I am so scared that you'd change your mind. I am so scared of letting my chance go. The last time, I waited until morning to apologize to you, but, what happened? I never got the chance, because you were already gone."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised, smiling. "I need to chop woods for you and your grandmother in the morning."

"Lucas, please!" I begged, futilely trying to wipe away the tears that were now freely flowing down my face. "Let's just talk right now. I know it's illogical, beyond understanding, but I am really scared. Just amuse me, won't you? Please?"

He sighed, gently wiping away my tears. "Anything for you, Selene."

I grabbed his hand and held it against my cheek. "I'm sorry for what I've done and said back then, Lucas. I did not mean to, but I ended up hurting you."

"I won't even say you did not," Lucas said, wincing. "That would be called lying if I do that. You hurt me, twice. First, when I saw you with him." Frowning, he swallowed. "Marcus. And then, when in your anger, you sarcastically asked if I thought I was the one who would never hurt you."

"What James told me," I said softly, leaning against him. "Is it true, then?"

"What did that bastard tell you?" he asked.

I smiled when I heard the stiffness in his voice. "That you secretly love me."

He surprised me by chuckling. "Why do you have to ask? Is it not perfectly clear? I thought everybody knows. Even your grandmother."

That did not surprise me. Grandmother seemed to know everything. Ever since Jim told me that Lucas might be secretly in love with me, I had been thinking hard about it, and I already concluded that it was very possible that he was. Still, hearing it admitted by Lucas himself made me blush a deep red.

"What I feel for you is not something a friend should feel," Lucas continued quietly. "I am perfectly aware of that. I should not have let it come to this, but who could ever resist you, Selene? There is something about you that draws a man in. As a man, I cannot help but fall for you. Your innocence, your vulnerability, your strong-headedness..." He sighed. "I have known you all my life, yet I cannot get enough of you. I have never wanted anybody that way."

"Is that the reason why you don't want to be friends anymore?" I asked.

He shifted in his seat so that he could look at me eye to eye. "When do you think I started falling for you? Yesterday? I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember."

"Then, why?"

"Because being with you is just not enough anymore," he explained. "Back then, I am perfectly satisfied just being with you. But now..."

"You want something more than my company," I finished the sentence for him. "You want me."

"Yes," he answered in a whisper, looking straight into my eyes. "I want you. Aren't you scared?"

"Should I be?" I asked, already knowing what the answer would be. This was Lucas. As a man wanting a woman, he could be dangerous, but I had no fear. This was my best friend; he would do nothing to hurt me, to scare me away.

"I will never force myself on you," he said.

We fell silent, just looking into each other's eyes. I thought I understood him now – I understood him better than how I have ever understood him before. And to know that this man loved me, wanted me... I wanted to cry out of joy. I wanted the whole world to know how happy I was to know that Lucas, my best friend, loved me.

My reaction made me pause. It was not even an exaggerated reaction; it was what I genuinely felt. Nothing had ever made me feel like this before. Not even Marcus' presence in my life. A realization dawned upon me. Its full impact almost left me breathless.

I loved Lucas. I loved him. It was not even the same kind of love I felt for Marcus.

When I first met Marcus, I was immediately attracted to him. That attraction led us to some kind of friendship before developing into the need to be one with each other. We became lovers – in the physical sense of the word. I did not even think that I loved Marcus when I gave myself up to him. What I knew was that I fell in love with him in the course of our affair.

But it was not the same for Lucas. We started out as friends. Our friendship started when we were still both children. Before I even knew what love was, I loved him as a brother, as a friend. It was almost like instinct that I should love him thus. I knew I loved him, but not the way that a woman loves a man. It was all brotherly affection; it was the love between friends.

Until, one day, I was faced with the fear that our friendship would end. Before I could do anything about it, he was gone. His absence in my life did not go unnoticed. I felt it deeply even during those times when I was so in love with Marcus. When Marcus left, I was once again reminded of how much it hurt when it was Lucas who left. Maybe that was why I could not cry; I was mourning two losses all those times. It was too much.

And then Lucas came back a complete stranger. His coldness tore at my heart, reminding me of all that I had – all that I took for granted. His indifference cut more deeply than anything ever did, because I knew what I had; I knew who I missed. My best friend, my brother, my love. Yes: the first man I've ever, ever loved. The person I loved the most, for if I thought hard about it, however much I loved my grandmother, I loved Lucas even more. Even without my realization, I fell for him so deeply that there was no hope of me ever falling out of love with him. There was no letting him go the way that there had been with Marcus. Lucas was as indispensable a part of my life as my grandmother, as the forest I lived in, as my very own eyes, my very own heart. And among those indispensable parts of me, he was the one part that I could not give up – that I would never give up. I could lose them all, but not him. Not him.