Bare
Bee watches me when I move around the room.
She laughs when I call her on it. She laughs and reminds me that I am naked and I have absolutely no right to be moving around the room.
"I can't keep my eyes off you Tibby."
I stop, wanting to believe her. I want to believe that Bee could be attracted to me, that she could love me in ways that friendship couldn't cover.
She lies on her bed, the covers crumpled around her neck. Her hair is spread out on the pillow, and I want to touch it, want to wrap it around my fingers.
She reaches out and pulls me to the bed, running her fingers across the bottom of my ribs. She tells me that I am too bony, and I pull away from her, curling my legs into my body.
"Why are you here, Bee?"
She wraps her arm around me; her breasts warm against my back. "This is my bed."
I reach back, twisting her hair between my fingers. "Then why am I here?"
She answers by kissing me, by pressing her lips against my shoulder blades, against my neck. I try to tell myself that this is wrong, that it isn't me, that I'm not really here at all.
I don't open up to anyone like this.
But she rolls me on my back, and her fingers follow the lines of my ribs and it doesn't take a fool to realise the truth.
I couldn't have it any other way.