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Spencer's POV

Slant is crowded. When is a club not crowded, really. I don't have to tell you that the bass is booming and the music is loud. I don't have to tell you that the mass of bodies on the dance floor is moving in synch as one. And I surely don't have to tell you that Ashley looks good. She looks really good.

Her skirt is short, as always, and all she is wearing is a simple tank top. That alone is enough to keep me staring. It was time for a shot.

"To friends!" Chelsea exclaims as we all put our shots into the air, smiling like idiots at each other. And by we, I mean me, Ashley, Aiden, Chelsea, and Kyla. Glen is there too but he doesn't count for much.

"Friends." Ashley says quietly while looking at me, right before her eyes disappear and down the shot.

I wanted to know if it really was just friends. If friends was all it was ever going to be. Ashley is my best friend, but were two people, who were so amazingly in synch with each other, so comfortable, fit so perfectly together, destined to remain friends? I wanted so badly to ask her this, to ask anyone this. But I couldn't. Could you be friends with someone who made your heart race when they smiled at you? With someone who, when they touched you, you felt so hot, like the sun was shining directly on you?

The alcohol in my veins was bringing me to my thoughtful place. My place of want. And by my fourth shot, it had brought me to my lustful place. Not that I wasn't always there in some way, it just seemed to intensify.

I was sitting in a booth with Ashley, Chelsea and Aiden. There was some kind of conversation going on. Glen was dancing with Kyla. They've been acting weird together for a while. It wouldn't surprise me if they were secretly hooking up. Ew. There is no reason to be thinking of that.

I was very much buzzed and hazy.

"Glen and Kyla are totally doing it." Aiden was saying, Chelsea nodding.

I tuned them out and looked to my side, where Ashley was sitting. She was being quiet, not normal for her, with a small, but sad smile on her face. I knew her well enough to know something was bothering her. But I just kept looking at her profile, as she nodded along with something Chelsea had said. Her neck looked soft, her shoulders beautifully tanned, showing off under the tank top. She was so gorgeous it was kind of impossible sometimes. Yes, she was all kinds of hot, and sexy, but it was when her curls were let down and her face was glowing effortlessly that you were able to see just how beautiful she really was.

So much so that I just wanted to lean my head on her shoulder.

So I did.

I felt her head turn down to me as I got closer to her. Her one arm snaking around to hold me closer while its' fingers lazily scratched at my back. Her other hand resting on my knee. I sighed heavily and Ashley kissed my temple.

"Let's go dance." Ashley whispers to me. I am hesitant.

"Ash, you know-" I was cut off by her dragging me to the dance floor. It's not that I couldn't dance, I could. And I loved dancing with her. I was just always hesitant, especially after last time. I was in no mood to embarrass myself.

We found ourselves somewhere in the midst of lots of sweaty, moving bodies. We started to dance to whatever popular-for-a-day rap song was blasting through the place.

Did it really matter what it was? It would be old by tomorrow.

Eventually we moved closer, closer so that my hands were around her neck, her hands on my hips, her head pressed in the crook of my neck. We moved effortlessly to the beat and I was glad to know nothing embarrassing seemed to be happening.

I would definitely not like to repeat last time, when I stepped on some girl's high heel, making me spill my drink on another girl's back, causing me to fall forward onto my face. Then only to have my hand stepped on.

It was like a Domino effect.

Almost like she was reading my mind, Ashley whispered in my ear. "See, I told you I would protect you." Her voice was all husky and breathy from the dancing and I barely swallowed the moan that was about to betray me and escape my stupid unthinking throat.

My fingers worked the soft backside of her neck. Rubbing up and down and in circles. I felt Ashley breathe out on my neck and make a grunting noise. It was so sexy I almost peed my pants.

"Thanks Ash." I told her, pulling her head to face me slightly so she could see the sincerity in my eyes and on my smile, my smile that couldn't help but appear at the sight of her face.

Ashley pressed her forehead to mine so I could feel the air from her mouth as she spoke. "Anything for you, Spence." And then she was gone from in front of me. For a second I was confused as to where she went, but then I felt hands holding my hips from behind. Ashley's head placed on my shoulder. We got more into the music, more raunchier, something I can only pull off when tipsy or drunk. We grinded into each other and her hands made their way to my stomach. I momentarily put my own hands on top of hers and then interlocked them and pulled them into the air. After that, her hands went back to my stomach, stroking the skin with her slender fingers that was not covered by my "shirt" and mine somehow made their own way backwards and into her curls, pulling her face into my neck.

I was drunk, so the small sensation of someone lightly biting me was probably not real.

If Glen had not interrupted us I think I might have exploded right there, in the middle of the dance floor. Which surely would have been more embarrassing than getting stepped on.

Ashley's POV

Something happened to me a while ago. I don't know how or why, but it happened. It happened when I started to not take every touch, every soft stroke, for granted. Now, I cherish every one of those because I don't know how long it will be until I totally fuck it up. And I can't screw it up, because she doesn't deserve that. Spencer, with her angelic face, beautiful red lip, and impossibly soft skin.

There is no way to gauge just how much I want her.

Maybe if there were a whole army of Spencer's, each one adding together to how much I want her. Wait, no. That's a bad metaphor. Or simile? I really can't be sure.

I want her in every way possible. But I am too much of a coward to admit this to anyone, even to myself. I'm sure that I'll mess it up, mess her up with my hidden insecurities. That's why I can only live in our tender moments and try to ignore the ache I feel coursing throughout my whole body. The ache I feel whenever her cute little mouth smiles at something dumb I say. The ache I feel whenever she seems to reassure me. The ache I immediately feel every single time we make some sort of bodily contact. I know I shouldn't touch her like I do sometimes, but I can't help myself.

I'm only human.

I lost my resolve when I softly bit her while we were dancing. It was to stop myself from kissing her senseless. Kissing her until I could not breathe.

Our friendship was never normal, we were never those friends who didn't hug. I hate those people. Those people are stupid. Those people would feel differently if they hugged Spencer. But I will never let them. We did more than hug, and I didn't mind. I didn't mind our touchy-feely friendship at all. It was always innocent.

Until it wasn't.

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So now we're drunk and stumbling into my room, hopefully going to try and sleep. The only way I can sleep is if we're snuggling. No one but her will ever know that.

"Aaaaaaash." She draws out my name from where she is sitting on my bed. I take a moment to look at her and smile. Then I remember what she's wearing and my eyes betray me and I'm sure they coat over with intense desire as they look her up and down.

I've made this mistake many times, looking her body up and down. Checking her out. I've done it when she doesn't notice, when she does notice, when her mom is in the room (which earned me a death glare), I'm sure I even do it subconsciously.

"Speeeeeence." I mimick her whininess. I feel a pillow hit my head. "Hey!" I laugh loudly. I walk over to the edge of the bed where she's sitting, swinging her legs. She yawns, and it is too adorable for words.

"You deserved it." She says while giving me a slight smile. She reaches out her hands bunches up the bottom of my tank top in her fists and pulls me towards her. And I'm loving every minute of it. "Come on, I'm tired." Urging me to go to bed. We stay motionless like that for a few seconds and all I'm thinking is Jesus, how I want so desperately to kiss her right now.

We find ourselves tangled up together in the middle of my bed. I am trying to find a way to sleep but my eyes seem to stay open, just looking at her.

"What's wrong?" Spencer asks me, her eyes shut the whole time and her face scrunches up.

I look at her eyelashes. They're thick and amazingly gorgeous, just like the rest of her. I can't possibly tell her what's wrong. I don't even know if anything is wrong.

How can something that is supposedly wrong feel so incredibly good?

"Nothing, just don't feel that good." I lie, trying to blame my feelings and confusion on alcohol.

"Come're then." She says and pulls me into her. And as my head rests on her chest, her hand finds its rightful place buried deep in my hair, scratching lightly at my scalp. I can't hold back the content sigh escaping me. "I love you Ash." She says sleepily.

"I love you, more." I confess, fearing and hoping at the same time that she'll see right through me.

"Not possible." Her voice is barely a whisper. I kiss her collarbone and drift off to sleep.

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I wake to the sound of an angry garbage truck outside and groan. Groan because that garbage truck interrupted a wonderful dream I was having where Spencer did not have many clothes on. Apparently the sound had not woken Spencer up as she is snuggled up to me deliciously. Her head in the crook of my neck, breathing just below my ear.

I lie there contently for a few moments, just basking in her comfort and warmness. All of a sudden she makes a weird little sound, almost like a tired moan and pulls me closer to her. Her fingers grabbing at my shirt above my stomach. I smile to myself and feel butterflies swirl madly in the pit of my stomach, the one she's touching.

They're stampeding around, wanting to be let out.

I can't help myself. I run my fingers through her soft blonde hair, immediately wanting more of her. She's so fucking addictive. She's like Little-Bo-Peep, but all scantily clad, waving candy around.

So I guess a Halloween version of Little-Bo-Peep. But all the time.

Fuck me.

She stirs ever so slightly. "Ash?" Comes a tired and raspy voice. An insanely sexy voice.

"Shh. Go back to sleep." I whisper gently to her, feeling bad I woke her.

"What time is it?" She asks groggily, eyes still closed. Part of me wants her to open them, just so I can see the blue color.

"Early." I answer as I press a kiss to the top of her head. I see her lightly smile as she falls back into even breathing.

While mine remains erratic.