Page 1 of Feels Like Coming Home

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HALEY | THEN

Iwas sitting at my desk writing my last paper due before Spring Break started on Friday when my phone buzzed. I almost ignored it completely because I was in the flow and when I was in the flow, and the flow was interrupted, it took me a long time to get back into it. And I needed to be in the flow because my paper was literally due tomorrow and I had only gotten to the end of my introduction. But when I turned my phone over to look and see who texted me, my breath caught in my throat.

“Why the hell is he texting me?” I muttered to myself before clicking the ‘Read’ button. I knew he and his girlfriend—a girl Ipersonallythought needed to be given a good scrub before you got too close—broke up a few days ago but I was only half expecting to hear from him. We had been friends since we were six years old, me and Cam Johnson—everyone else called him Camden, but I always called him Cam.

We had been friends since the first day of kindergarten when our teacher lined us up alphabetically and we went one right after the other. I remember he stood in front of me, turned around, and made a joke about how short I was. In response, I scrunched up my face in displeasure at being called small and stomped on his foot. We were friends from that day on.

Throughout school, we would always be in the same classes, join similar clubs, and see each other at the high school football games until Cam was old enough to play himself. And yeah, maybe there was something more between us at some points, but when you’re in eighth grade and your hormones are raging you would fall in love with a stick if it smelled good enough.

We had this relationship that was so…easy. We could share ourselves—our real selves—with each other without feeling the need to hide the bad stuff or the stuff we kept from our other friends. When shit hit the fan, we were there for one another. When my dad left, Cam was there for me, just like I was for him when his sister got sick.

For so long, it felt like this unspoken thing between us. I liked him, he liked me, we both knew it. Shit, even our mothers knew it and would openly discuss it when they ran into one another at the grocery store. But something,somethingprevented either of us from actually acting on it and making us an ‘us’.

And then our junior year, almost out of nowhere, he had a girlfriend. A real, blonde-haired, large-chested girlfriend who was a year older than us, and had a car. Cam was the baby of our class and wasn’t going to be able to drive until the end of our junior year which is why half the football team gave him shit for ‘sleeping with an older woman.’

Me, though, I gave him shit because I just didn’t like her. Sure, my reasons for not liking her were deeply rooted in jealousy and hurt feelings because he hadn’t picked me, but that’s not the point here.

Actually, that is the point, because this text from him now is the first one I have gotten in over four months.

And for us, four months was pretty much a lifetime.

2

CAM | NOW

Icouldn’t believe how beautiful she was, standing there at the end of the bed looking at me like she was ready to devour me. Her eyes were locked on mine, begging for me to come closer and touch her.

And holy shit did I want to.

Her long, cinnamon-colored hair was falling behind her shoulders and her legs looked like they could go on for miles. She didn’t have the model-type body most men drooled over, but to me she was perfect. She was also wearing nothing but a lace bra and matching panties, which any man with respect and dignity would notice. As she moved closer to me, I could feel my lower half grow and my heart started to pound in my chest.

I couldn’t believe I had Haley Jones standing in her underwear at the foot of my bed, looking at me the way she was. It was as if she was ready to do things to me that would blow my mind while also hoping I would do the same to her. I continued to watch her in utter disbelief, drinking in every inch of her body that I could see from where I was lying on the bed. I had wanted this for more than seventeen years, ever since I saw her in that denim skirt all those years ago.

I had been her friend—truly just her friend—since we were in kindergarten. But when Haley came to school one day in ninth grade wearing a cutoff denim skirt and white Henley with the top few buttons undone to where you could see her bra strap, I no longer wanted to only be her friend.

No, I wanted to be way more than friends, just like I wanted her as more than a friend right now. And I wasreadyto have her as way more than a friend, I can promise you that.

My heart started to race as she started to make her way towards me. I watched as she leaned over, her breasts starting to spill out of her black lace bra, dying to touch them with my own two hands, and felt her breath on my ear. She started to open her mouth as my whole body prepared to feel her lips on mine for the first time, and when she spoke, her voice came out as a loud, blaring alarm.

What the fuck?I thought as I jerked my head back and bolted upright in bed. I looked around, and when my brain—and cock—finally caught up to my surroundings, I realized I was alone in my loft and the blaring alarm wasn’t the voice of my childhood friend I’d been pining for over the last two decades. Unfortunately for me, it was the sound of my alarm clock kindly letting me know that I needed to get my ass out of bed.

4:43 A.M. was flashing on the small plastic alarm clock face as it continued to blare its obnoxious alarm.

I slapped the buttons across the back to get it to stop and took a few deep breaths. It had been a minute since I last had a dream about Haley, but holy shit did I like it. I closed my eyes for a second and tried to commit the dream to memory. Her long legs and soft hair, the lacy bra and panties that I wanted to rip off with my teeth, the way her perfect breasts billowed out over the top of her bra as she leaned over me. Suddenly, I was hard and wanted to take care of myself but knew I couldn’t or I’d be late for training.

“You’ll have to wait until tonight,” I said to my cock in the hopes that by saying it out loud, my hard-on would go away and not distract me during morning training.

It didn’t work.

I stepped out of bed and walked towards the bathroom to take a quick shower before leaving. My friends always tell me I'm crazy for taking a morning shower just to turn around and train, but I hated leaving the house feeling dirty. I quickly showered, brushed my teeth, and changed into my gym clothes before walking downstairs to the kitchen.

I had moved into my place after signing a multi-million-dollar contract to play for the major football team here in North Carolina at the end of last season. My sister always liked to remind me that I had “major mansion money now” and that I should buy something with a pool and ten bedrooms, but I liked my loft. Plus, there was a community pool if I ever wanted to use it.

Once in the kitchen, I flipped on the light and opened up the fridge to grab an apple, an overnight oats jar, and a protein shake. Once I had everything I needed, I grabbed my bag from the floor and slung it over my shoulder before walking out into the garage. I pulled open the driver’s side door, slid inside, and tossed my bag into the backseat. This was my daily routine as we got closer to the season starting, and by now, I could go through my entire morning in my sleep if I needed to.

Not if you’re having dreams like the one you had last night,I thought to myself.

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