Author's Note: When I started this story I didn't realize my life would take the turn it took. The struggles of the last two years have subsided though and now, as many of my regular readers might have noticed, I am back in the game. Right now I have two goals; to finish Leave Out All The Rest and There All Along. I hope those of you who were interested in this story before are still interested! Things are going to start to get steamy so if you are under the age of 18 you are reading at your own risk! (P.S. This story is a two-part story! The second installment will be posted once this one is completed and will focus on Mark and Lexie)
Chapter Two
Alex Karev punched the up button for the elevator and watched as the red digital numbers slowly decreased. He wasn't entirely sure why he had agreed to Izzie's ridiculous scheme. Mostly he attributed his compliance with twenty years of friendship. They'd met in pre-school. Mrs. Webber had sat them next to one another. At first he had been pissed that he was the only boy in class who had to sit with a girl. The second week his attitude changed. All because of a cookie. An Oreo cookie to be exact. He'd dropped a crayon and when he bent to pick it up his shirt came un-tucked. Nobody noticed. Except Izzie. She seen what others missed; the ugly purple bruise his father's fist had left. When he straightened, she was staring at him, understanding in her large, dark eyes. She'd pulled an Oreo cookie from the pocket of her purple striped skirt and pressed it into his free hand. He'd picked off the bits of lint and shoved it into his mouth before the teacher could see it and take it away. As he chewed, the quiet girl next to him leaned closer and whispered that her daddy was mean to, only he liked to yell, not hit. It wasn't until they were older that Alex came to the conclusion that Izzie's father yelling was probably more destructive than his old man swinging at him. He could duck his father's fist. Izzie couldn't duck from the words her father flung at her. Horrible, ugly words. Alex would never forget hearing David Stevens call his twelve year old daughter a dirty whore who would only be good for spreading her legs and sucking cock when she got older...just like her mother. All because he had caught Izzie hugging Alex. Eventually her mother Robbie divorced the man when Izzie was fourteen, but the damage was already done. Not in the way most people would expect. Izzie didn't sleep around or experiment with oral sex. She shut that part off. The only time she seemed able to shut her father's voice out of her head was prom night. She'd made Alex buy her condoms and she'd made him tell her the truth about sex. It had been the single most, embarrassing conversation of his life. And in the end it had been for nothing. George dumped her, leaving her with a broken heart and a box of condoms. The condoms she had thrown at Alex, but the broken heart she'd nursed for years. To many years in Alex's opinion. He really hoped she was serious about letting go.
"Earth to Alex!" A well manicured hand waved in front of his face, reminding him he wasn't alone. Letting out a sigh, he glanced to his left, where Izzie stood, her face a mask of worry and excitement. "Did you hear anything I just said?"
Not a single word. He'd been to caught up in thinking about the past. Offering an apologetic grin, Alex shrugged one shoulder. Izzie rolled her large, chocolate brown eyes and told him George had text to see if they made it. "That was nice of him." Sarcasm dripped from his tongue. George was what most people considered a nice guy. Alex wasn't one of those people. He'd been the one to pick up the pieces when George broke Izzie's heart.
"I guess." There was uncertainty in Izzie's voice as she glanced down at her iPhone to read another text. Probably from George. The little weasel. He was getting married in less than two days and he was texting his ex-girlfriend. Alex wondered if Olivia knew Izzie was an ex, or if George had spouted his usual nonsense about Izzie being one of his oldest, dearest friends. "He wants us to meet him and Olivia in the lounge."
"Now?" The last person Alex wanted to spend time with was George. Since they were there for the other man's wedding, Alex knew that was impossible. Still. He didn't want to start the weekend by boozing it up with George.
"No. Not right now." Another roll of her eyes. Izzie's lips puckered a little as she concentrated on what she was texting back. "I told him we'd be down as soon as he got settled into our room." A satisfied smirk twisted her lips. "And that might take a while."
Alex opened his mouth to make a smart retort but the words dried on his tongue as the meaning of her words sunk in. They were just words; said to get under George's skin. Words were never just words though. There was power in words. The ability to create whatever a person wanted. Izzie's words had been meant to create the image of her and Alex making love. She'd meant for George to picture it. To see her beneath Alex, her legs wrapped around Alex's waist, her lips parted as she moaned Alex's name. Alex didn't know if that was the image in George's head, but thanks to Izzie and her desire to taunt George via subtle texting, it was the image in Alex's head. "Great," he muttered. "That's just great." The last thing he wanted was to start thinking of his best friend that way.
"Look, we'll take our time getting ready and when we go down we won't stay long. We'll say hi, maybe have a drink or two. And then we'll...I don't know...come up with an excuse to leave. Maybe get handsy or something. Let him think we're going back to the room for another round of hot, sweaty sex." Any leeway Alex had made in banishing the erotic images from his head went by he wayside. He could practically see a trickle of sweat winding its way between her breasts. Fuck. He was going to have to take a cold shower. A long, cold shower. He'd lock the door and jerk off. If that didn't ease the tension building in his groin he was screwed. George would take one look at him and realize he was sexually frustrated. Other men always sensed that about each other. "What do you think?"
"Sounds good to me," he muttered as the elevator doors slid open. Splaying one hand in the middle of her back, Alex gently shoved Izzie onto the waiting elevator. Electricity shot through the tips of his fingers, up his arm, and throughout his body. Sexual awareness. A sensation he was familiar with, just not when he was touching his best friend. He jerked his hand away, his fingers shaking slightly as he poked at the button labeled twenty-seven. Taking several breaths, he chanced a look in Izzie's direction. From the startled, widening of her eyes he wasn't the only one who had felt something. Their eyes met, held for a moment, and then darted away. The tense awareness still clung to the air around them, making the small space suffocating. He let out a sigh of relief when the elevator slid to a stop and the doors parted. They tumbled out into the hallway that seemed to be a maze of dark wood, mirrors, potted plants and doors. "What's are room number again?"
A lock of long, gold hair fell across Izzie's cheek as she ducked her head to read the numbers on the key-card envelope. "2795," she answered, slightly breathless. Her brow furrowed a little as her gaze swept over the map the front desk attendant had provided. "We're supposed to take a left after we get off the elevator and then take the second right." Her brows arched upward as she looked at him, the corners of her lips twitching as she struggled not to laugh. "I've never stayed in a hotel where I had to have a map to find my room!"
Shrugging, Alex quickened his steps in the direction she'd indicated. The sooner they got to the room the sooner they could change and meet George. The sooner they met George, the sooner they could make their excuses and leave. The sooner they left, the sooner Alex could find a way to sneak out and find some random woman to fuck senseless. A woman he hadn't known for twenty some odd years. It shouldn't be hard to find a woman like that. Not in Las Vegas. Just last month his step-brother Mark had flown to Las Vegas for a conference and come home with tales of dirty, hotel sex with a kinky red-head from California. When Alex first received George's invitation he'd looked at it as his chance to live it up in Sin City; and then he'd thought of Izzie. If George had sent him an invitation he'd certainly sent one to Izzie. He'd put aside thoughts of wild, Las Vegas sex and called his best friend, just to make sure she was okay. She hadn't been. She'd sounded so broken, pathetic even. He'd tried tough love, but couldn't stand firm when she asked if he was trying to tell her they weren't friends anymore. It had tugged at his heart and when she'd asked him to pretend they were a couple while at the wedding, he'd agreed. How could he not? Izzie was his everything. The one person in his life who fully understood him.
"Alex?" The hesitant wa she spoke his name ruffled his composure even further. He tried to pretend he hadn't heard her, that he was focused on finding their room. "Alex!"
"What?" The gruff way he barked out the question didn't seem to phase her. She halted in the middle of the hallway, her lower lip tucked between her teeth. He could practically see her heart pounding beneath her pale yellow racer-back tank top. The pink and white Coach duffle bag shed brought dropped to the floor as she tok a hesitant step toward him. The tip of her tongue darted out to lick her lips as she stared at him. Logic told him to pick up her bag, to hand it to her, and demand that she unlock the door to their room so they could get ready for the meeting with George. Logic slipped away as he moved his arm. Instead of reaching for the leather handle of her luggage, he reached for her. Curling his fingers into the soft fabric of her top he gently pulled her towards him. Her body had been pressed against his before. They'd hugged many times throughout the years. It was different this time. This time her body wasn't flush with his as they hugged. He set his duffle of the floor, using his newly freed hand to slide up her arm, his fingertips relishing the softness of her tanned flesh beneath them. Slowly, he grazed the side of her neck, before finally burying his fingers in the silky strands of her hair. Her eyes fluttered closed as she slightly tipped her head to the left, her lips parting in invitation.
There was a line that Alex couldn't see but could damn well feel. If he crossed it, if he so much as brushed his lips across her's, there would be no going back. He meant to resist, to stand firm in his resolve not to throw away twenty years of friendship on lust. Resolve was nothing but a weak coward when faced with the carnal desires racing through his blood. Closing his own eyes, he lowered his head. Her lips were every bit as soft as her skin. He could taste the strawberry flavor of her gloss and the lingering mint of the mouth wash she had used that morning. He should have stopped there. Called curiosity sated. He wasn't sated though, and from the way she arched her back, pressing her body closer to his, neither was she. He dug his fingers into her scalp and teased the tip of his tongue passed her lips. She opened for him like a flower blooming beneath the spring sun. Slowly. Sweetly. The electricity that had shot through him earlier was nothing compared to the jolt coursing through him now. He unfurled his hand from her shirt and wrapped that arm around her waist. The room was right there. He'd seen their room number etched on the gold plate before she'd looked at him.
Their feet tangled as Alex tried to move them toward the door. Izzie's back hit it, a loud thud echoing through the hall. Her lips barely broke from his as she let out a groan. "We shouldn't have done that," she whispered, her voice thick with an emotion he couldn't figure out. It didn't matter. She was right. They shouldn't have kissed. He shouldn't have crossed the line. It had happened though. They couldn't undo it. She cleared her throat as she handed him the key card. "I can never get these things to work right."
Fighting back a curse, Alex accepted the key and quickly slid it in and out of the electronic lock on the door. He waited until the little light went from red to green before shoving the door open. His feet felt like they were cemented to the floor. Behind him, he heard Izzie suck in her breath. He knew why. It was the same reason he was cursing like a sailor. One bed. One large, king sized bed with a black duvet and a mountain of silver pillows. The sort of bed people had hot, wild sex in. This wasn't what he'd booked. He'd asked for two beds. The reservation clerk had assured him she would try to book him into a double. Try, he thought sourly. Try. NOt that she would. Just that she would try. Well hell. They were just going to have to find a different hotel. One where they could get two beds or, better yet, two rooms. "Let's go."
"Where?" Izzie shook her head. "The front desk? You heard what they told the couple behind us. They're full."
"Then we'll go to another hotel." Izzie shook her head again. All their friends were going to be staying there. The wedding was taking place there. Everyone knew they already had a room. There was no logical reason to go to another hotel. She was right. He knew she was right. That didn't change the fact that they were stuck in a room with one bed.
"Look, we're both adults. It's only three days. We can handle sharing a bed for three days." There wasn't much conviction in her voice. After the kiss in the hall, Alex wasn't surprised. He'd kissed a lot of women, hell he had fucked a lot of women, but that kiss...it had been unlike anything he'd ever experienced. The best thing would to be forget it ever happened. "Alex." The way she said his name was like gasoline on the fire burning low in his belly. "DO you remember what you told me when I asked you about sex?" Shit. She was going to bring up that conversation? Biting back a sigh, he nodded. He'd told her sex could be dirty, in a fun way, but when it was with someone she loved it wouldn't feel that way. It would be special. He'd spouted off sentimental bull shit to make her feel better. "I love you. You're my best friend and I trust you." She stepped around him to retrieve her bag from the hall, reminding him he needed to do the same. "Do you want the bathroom or do you think you can change quicker than me?" Wrinkling his brow, he shot her an odd look. "George. Olivia. The lounge." Crap. They were supposed to change and meet George and his wife to be. He'd been so caught up in the kiss and the weird conversation afterward that he'd forgotten.
"Bathroom," Alex muttered, tossing his bag on to the middle of the bed. He dug out a vintage style t shirt and some dark washed jeans. He'd brought nicer clothes, but wearing them would require ironing them first. He wasn't in the mood. His current goal was to change as quickly as possible, get the blasted meeting with George over with, and then force Izzie to explain what the hell she had meant when she said she loved him, because damn it, he loved her to...and he was starting to wonder if it was something more than just twenty years of friendship.
