Single Player: Humor, Love, Breast Cancer and a Gaming Girl... Read Online Free Page A

Ashton, still half dressed and standing unnecessarily close. Now, if I haven’t yet made this clear, let me: Ashton is extremely attractive. Period. End of. Hot stuff. Man meat. I won’t bore you with more hot subtitles, you get it. 
    He’s looking at me with those whiskey-colored eyes of his that I love so much, locked in a criss-crossed gaze, tongue pushed to the side almost to his ear, Miley Cyrus style all the while his pecs of steel are staring me straight in the eye. Because we are only friends I try adamantly not to look at said beautiful, sculpted, perfect pecs that are attempting to hypnotize my eyes into a staring contest.  Thankfully I am used to Ash in his current state of undress; I’m afraid other girls don’t stand a chance. They probably start licking him as soon as his shirt pops off.  The point I’m trying to make before I was so rudely distracted (by muscles) is that he’s very comfortable in his skin and since we live in south Florida where it’s always a balmy eighty plus degrees he feels perfectly comfortable running around shirtless like the douche that we’ve (I’ve) decided that he is. I pride myself on being immune to his… sexuality, but let’s remember that I am a woman of twenty six and even though I may still be a virgin (I know, but it’s true) who happens to have wants and desires just as much as the next girl I’ve also been stuck in this house for the last three years which translates to: I want for A LOT! And it just so happens that Ashton has A LOT to offer! And sometimes, in a state of weakness, I notice.  Sue me.
    Lifting my eyes to his I can see he’s struggling not to laugh at me and that underneath that handsome smirk of his there’s something else. I have a feeling I know what that something else is, but the thing about mine and Ash’s relationship is that we don’t do the something else. So right on cue, he locks that look down and then like the good girl that I am, so do I. That’s our go to move when things between us start to feel… bigger. Lock. It. Down. 
    I love Ashton way too much to ever allow myself to love -love him, and the reason for that is simply because, just like my mom, I believe the heavy baggage I lug around simply allows me to be incapable of that sort of love.  Most days I’m amazed that Ashton hasn’t bailed on me yet. He’s one of the few remaining friends I have and his friendship is something that I will never take lightly.  We’ve never had the conversation about our relationship status changing per se’, but he knows me better than anyone and I know him the same way. And, as much as I don’t do relationships, neither does he. The line of ladies that follow behind him is constant and flowing like the ebb in a current or the push and pull between the earth and the moon. It’s ever changing and yet always the same.
    After the mood shifts back to the silly place we’re both comfortable in, I very wisely push my beautifully pecked, bare-chested friend away before he makes the poor decision to remove the only thing between me and my naked skin: my blanket. His stupid wheels are turning and he’s replaced his sexy smirk with his I’m-in-the-mood-to-play smirk and I’m telling you right now mama ain’t playin’ that game today. He’s seen enough naked CeeCee in the last twenty four hours and as of right now I’m putting an end to naked-friend-time.
    “Okay stud. I have work I need to get done which means you have to go home now. No more torture CeeCee time,” I do love pushing him by his pecs and spare me the whole he’s only your friend speech… I know it. I wrote that speech! But, a girl has to get her thrills from somewhere and I promise you, Ashton isn’t one to mind.
    “Come on Cee, you know I don’t like going home to an empty house. Can I at least bring Master with me?  Please, just this once?” I hate his puppy eyes.  I don’t.  I love them, but they are ridiculously hard to say no to, except on this.