Kenzie stares at herself in the mirror as I flit around, adjusting the ruffles of the wedding dress. It’s not at all her style, though she still looks absolutely radiant. Still, I can tell how uncomfortable the bride is.

“This doesn’t have to be the dress, you know,” I remind her softly. “You just have to go out there, give them a little twirl, and tell everyone you’ll consider it.” Kenzie nods, staring at the hardwood floor.

Kenzie leads the way through the changing room curtain, and I follow with an armful of the poofy skirt. As soon as we round the corner, gasps echo through the line of Kenzie’s friends and family sitting on a long bench. Kenzie steps up onto the podium, and I wrestle with the skirt for a moment before moving to stand in line with the bench.

“Oh, Kenzie!” her mom exclaims, a hand over her heart. “You look absolutely stunning.” Kenzie’s sister, Jesse, and our friends, Dalia and Payton, nod in agreement.

“It’s perfect,” Jesse tells her. “This just might be the one.” I wrinkle my nose. Do they know her at all? The dress is pretty, with a sweetheart neckline and long, lace skirt. But it’s not Kenzie, not in the slightest.

“I’ll think about it,” Kenzie tells the line of teary-eyed women, just like I told her to.

Back in the dressing room, I undo the clasps, and my fingers brush over milky skin, making Kenzie shiver. I push away the dirty memories of painting that skin red with my lipstick, something I refuse to think about. Ever.

The dress falls in a heap on the floor, and Kenzie steps out wearing only a black lace bralette and matching thong. I don’t look at her as I gather the dress and hang it back on the wheeled rack. Kenzie sighs behind me, and I know she’s thinking about how many more we have to get through. Stress radiates off her in waves, and I long to soothe her worries.

“What next?” Kenzie asks as I flip through the dresses like pages in a book. “What about the slip dress you picked out for me? I liked that one.” Her tone is light, but her face shows how desperate she is to get out of here. I can always tell how Kenzie is feeling, even when she wishes I couldn’t.

I’m not entirely sure when the decision was made in my mind, but suddenly, I’m behind the bride with my hands on her hips. Kenzie gasps and slowly, oh so slowly, allows me to pull her body into mine. I kiss her neck gently, and she tilts her head, letting out a quiet sigh that spreads fire to my limbs.

I know I shouldn’t be doing this. Not here, not now. Not ever, for that matter. But God, I need my best friend in this moment. And I know she needs the comfort we’ve cultivated in secret for years now. We need to indulge in the one thing we never talk about.

I run my left hand up my best friend’s stomach, massaging her breast and pinching her nipples the way I know she likes it. Kenzie groans, pushing her ass back into my hips, and I realize I’m slowly grinding against her.

I slide my other hand down the redhead’s stomach, then her legs, tracing her inner thighs before cupping her through her underwear. Her ragged intake of breath sends a thrill down my spine, lighting up my midsection. I move my hand up to her waistband and dip two fingers inside. I wait.

Kenzie’s breathing is growing very unsteady, and she leans her head backwards onto my shoulder. Her hips move languidly, but still, I don’t move. After a tormenting moment of silence, Kenzie takes my hand in hers and slides it into her own panties.

I attack her neck again, this time with wet, open-mouthed kisses. My middle finger slides downward, guided by Kenzie’s movements, before trailing upwards and breaching her slit. She’s absolutely soaked, far too much for the last minute and a half. She must have already been aroused long before I wrapped my arms around her.

I revel in the feel of my friend’s slickness, drawing a coated finger to paint patterns over her clit. Kenzie groans and pulls her hand out of her thong, holding instead to my wrist, keeping me from pulling away. As if I would.

I let my hand drift back down my friend’s slit. I know enough by now to move my hand from her chest to her mouth, covering it as firmly as I can, feeling her hot breath on my palm. Kenzie’s hips grind into my hand. When I’m sure her mouth is secured shut, I push two fingers deep into the bride’s wet cunt.

Kenzie’s cries are muffled by my hand, but not quite enough. I let out a soft “shh,” reminding her of where we are. Kenzie nods into my hand, doing her best to stay quiet as my fingers curl deep inside her. She squirms wildly against me, grinding hard into my hand, and the spark in my core lights a fire.

Kenzie is panting against my palm, and the weight on my right hand grows as she struggles to keep upright. I want to say something, to whisper sultry commands in her ear, to guide her to orgasm, but I don’t. We never speak, not before, not during, and most definitely not after. So, I lay kisses on her neck, silently coaxing her towards ecstasy. A loud rap on the door echoes through the small room.

“Kenzie? Alex? All good in there?” Jesse calls from the other side. “Do you need any help?”

Kenzie and I jump apart, splitting to opposite corners of the room so fast I almost trip. She fixes her waistband and mussed hair while I call out to her sister.

“We’re all set! The last dress didn’t work out. We’ll be out in a minute.” Her sister’s footsteps disappear into the bustling shop, and I finally allow myself to look at my friend. She smiles at me, innocent as always, before moving to the rack.

“Slip dress?” she asks again. I nod, still blushing furiously, and try to ignore my friend’s arousal coating my fingers.

                *

I drive Kenzie home in my purple jeep. We laugh the whole way, recalling snippets of conversation with the rest of the group. Her mom begged her to pick the princess cut while our friends tried to talk her down.

“She was so adamant, you’d think it was her wedding!” I cackle. Kenzie pushes my shoulder.

“Now you understand why I didn’t invite Cathy,” She tells me, referring to her soon-to-be mother-in-law. “One mother is enough for me, thanks.” I roll my eyes as we pull into her driveway.

“I said I’d always support you,” I remind her, “and I meant it. It’s your day; anything you say is law.”

“Anything?” Kenzie laughs. “I don’t know about that.” I put the car in park and look at my friend, a serious expression on my face.

“Anything,” I repeat. “I’m serious. I would kill Cathy for you, if you said the word.”

Kenzie stares at me, and for a moment I think she’s going to lean over the center console and kiss me. I did say anything.

But Kenzie cracks a smile, and we both burst out laughing once again. Honestly, I wasn’t joking, and I’m pretty sure Kenzie knows that. Still, the ridiculousness of the confession strikes me, and I can’t help but laugh with her, one hand on her shoulder. When we finally catch our breaths, tears in our eyes, I lean over and press a light kiss to my best friend’s cheek.

“Goodnight, weirdo,” I chuckle, getting ready to put the car back in drive. “I’ll see you tomorrow for preparations.”

“Actually, do you want to come inside for a minute?” Kenzie asks quietly. “There’s something I wanted to talk about.” I swallow hard before giving a quick nod and a little smile.

Kenzie leads the way to the front steps, and a hundred scenarios run through my head. What does she want to talk about? Is there a problem with the wedding? Is she having second thoughts about marrying Xander? Are we finally going to talk about what’s been happening between us?

I push the last thought out of my head. We never talk about it. Why would that change now?

In the kitchen, Kenzie pours us each a glass of red wine, and we sit opposite each other at the kitchen table. Kenzie takes a sip before reaching across the table to take my hand in hers. I laugh hesitantly.

“You’re scaring me, Kenz,” I admit. “Out with it.”

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” Kenzie assures me, though it does little to steady my nerves.

“Well then, what is it?” I ask again, right before Kenzie blurts out,

“Alex, will you be my maid of honor?” A grin spreads across my face, and relief sinks into my bones.

“Of course I will, you dork.” I stand and move around the table to pull her into a long hug. “I would be honored.”

“I just have one question,” I mutter before I lose my nerve. I move to sit beside her, and she turns to face me.

Kenzie says “What’s up?” at the same time as I ask “Can we talk about it?”

Kenzie immediately sucks in a breath, and her gaze drops to her wine.

“Talk about what?” she asks innocently. “The fact that you don’t like Xander?”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about, Kenz. It doesn’t matter whether or not I like Xander. He’s your fiancé, and I support you.” Kenzie lets out a sigh, and I continue, voice trembling slightly. “I’m talking about what’s been happening between us for the past three years. We can’t keep pretending that it doesn’t happen, because it does. A lot.”

“I know,” Kenzie mutters, head in her hands. “I know, Alex. God, what are we doing?” I shake my head.

“I don’t regret any of what we’ve done,” I promise. “None of it. But the fact remains that you’re about to be wed, and this cannot continue after that.” My voice is firm, but honestly, the thought of never kissing Kenzie again makes me nauseous. We’ve been doing this so often for so long, longer than Kenzie has known Xander. I smile to myself, almost laughing out loud.

“I can’t believe we haven’t been caught,” I remark mirthfully. Kenzie cracks a smile.

“I know,” she agrees. “Especially from Xander. How have we gotten away with it for so long?”

“Probably because we don't even talk about it. We just hook up and pretend it never happened.” I can’t help but laugh at the situation. “It’s fucking crazy.”

“It is,” Kenzie laughs. We both fall silent again, and the air shifts to something more solemn.

“We don’t have to make any crazy promises right now,” I tell her gently. “We both need time to think. I don’t know about you, but I haven’t allowed myself to think about it. Like, ever.” Kenzie nods.

“Me neither,” she admits. We fall silent again. After a minute, I sigh, drain my wine glass, and stand.

“We can talk more another night,” I promise. “It’s late. I love you, Kenz.”

“I love you too, Al.” She doesn’t look at me as I head towards the door, until she speaks up again. “Hey, Alex? Think about it doesn’t mean talk about it, right?” I laugh at the panic in her voice.

“My lips are sealed.”

                *

Back in my own house, beneath silk sheets, I think. I think about all the intimate moments I’ve shared with my best friend over the years, about all the times we should have talked but never did. I think about what might happen if this situation continues after Kenzie’s marriage.

I think about what would have happened tonight if I kept my damn mouth shut. I know for a fact I would be writhing on my friend’s kitchen counter, a mess of red curls bobbing between my legs. My short nails would be digging into her hair as she drove me to the point of falling apart.

I close my eyes, and my hand slips down between my thighs without my permission. I spend the next hour and a half releasing all the pent-up tension from my earlier conversation with Kenzie, remembering the first time something like this happened.

                *

three years ago…

 Kenzie and I slump into the hotel room, thoroughly exhausted and more than a little bit drunk. Kenzie slips out of her bar clothes, reeking of beer, and into her sleep shorts and a sports bra. I grab a T-shirt from my suitcase and a fresh pair of underwear before falling into the sheets next to my best friend.

“Well, that was a bust,” I groan into the pillow. Kenzie pushes my shoulder, encouraging me to lift my head.

“It wasn’t,” she swears. “So what if we didn’t find anybody to take us home? I had fun.” I prop my head up on the pillow and stare at her, unconvinced.

“This is supposed to be your birthday getaway,” I remind her, “and you said you wanted to find a random guy and get laid. So I’d say I failed.”

“Exactly,” Kenzie dismisses easily. “It’s my birthday. So, if I say I had a good time, that’s all that matters. Plans change.”

I sigh and allow a little smile to pull at my lips. “If you say so. I had fun, too. I like spending time with you.”

“I do, too,” Kenzie agrees. “You’re my favorite person. A getaway trip to San Francisco was the best present you could have given me.” I let out a sigh of relief.

“I love you, Kenz,” I mutter, inching closer to her and closing my eyes.

“I love you too, Al,” my friend assures me, allowing me to wrap my arms around her middle. She wraps an arm around my neck and kisses my forehead.

Kenzie relaxes against me, her breathing slow and steady. I try to relax as well, but I can’t. My skin is burning, and there’s a pull in my gut begging for release. I cross my legs under the sheets, pleading with my body to calm down, but I can’t help it.

Kenzie and I chatted with a few different guys at the bar, but none of them were interested once they found out we’re tourists. Now, lying in bed, the dirty talk without action is really getting to me. Kenzie’s warm skin against mine doesn’t help. I fight the urge to go to the bathroom and rub one out, not wanting to disturb the sleeping woman next to me, but honestly, I can’t lay still.

In her sleep, Kenzie shifts, pushing a knee between my legs. Her hot breath mixes with mine, and I stare at her lips, wondering what would happen if I inched just a little closer…

I push the thought out of my head. This is my best friend, not some hooker I’m spending the night with. Still, her knee between my legs is driving me crazy. I’m trying so hard not to grind on it and freak her out, but the urge is almost too strong to resist. I need something.

I’m about to start climbing out of bed to go to the bathroom when Kenzie’s hand comes to rest on my hip. I breathe in sharply, and I swear Kenzie’s breath on my face is growing faster. I don’t open my eyes, but I have a feeling my friend isn’t asleep. I can feel her looking at me. I bite my lip, waiting, wanting. Kenzie’s hand slips lower.

My friend’s fingers squeeze my thigh softly, and I swear, that one little move turns me on so much more than any of the guys in the bar. Her knee disappears from my skin, and I nearly whimper at the loss of contact, but then the heat from Kenzie’s hovering palm is radiating against my underwear.

I freeze, waiting for her next move, but it doesn’t come. I can still feel her eyes on me and, a second later, her forehead against mine. The touch is brief, but it encourages my eyes to shoot open of their own accord, and I stare into my friend’s darkened pupils. Her face is flushed, and her own eyes are wide, seemingly shocked by her own actions. Still, she doesn’t move her hand from its place, hovering above the place between my thighs. I’m growing desperate.

I consider bucking my hips against her hand, but I don’t want to take her by surprise and risk ending this intimate moment. Instead, I gaze at her, silently pleading for her to touch me. After a minute, I realize she’s waiting for my permission.

I nod my head once, and Kenzie’s hand cups me through my panties.

It takes everything in me not to gasp at the contact, the heat spreading so deliciously from her hand through my whole body. Kenzie begins to slowly rub her hand against me, but I want so much more. She doesn’t keep me waiting.

Kenzie slides her hand up until she reaches the waistband of my underwear. She pushes inside without a moment of hesitation, like we’ve done this a million times before. She rubs me with her palm, skin to skin, and I fight tooth and nail not to make any noise. I’m terrified that, if I make a sound, Kenzie will change her mind and leave me to suffer twice as much as before.

Still, I can’t control my breathing. I choke on a gasp when my friend’s fingers breach my slit, dragging through my soaked heat and gathering arousal to swirl around my clit. The sensation is almost too much, and I squirm, stuck between glorious pleasure and overstimulation. Kenzie must understand, though, because she’s pushing those two fingers deep inside me a second later.

I can’t help the low groan that slips out, but Kenzie doesn’t shy away. Instead, she allows me to tug her forward until her body is flush against mine. I grab onto her shoulders, panting heavily against her neck. I kiss the area lightly, and Kenzie pumps her fingers faster. I swirl my hips, finding the perfect rhythm to grind against her hand as she finger fucks me.

It doesn’t take long until I feel that familiar sensation growing in my abdomen. I have to remind myself not to mark the gorgeous redhead as my lips move more frantically against the skin of her neck. Kenzie corkscrews her fingers in the most satisfying way, and I actually whimper at the feeling. God, woman! I think to myself. What are you doing to me?

I’m teetering on the edge, gasping for breath, when Kenzie brings a hand up to roughly grope my tit. A guttural moan falls from my mouth, completely without my permission, as I fall over the edge. My core is burning like the damn sun, my veins running with liquid fire. I almost cry out from the glorious feeling, but refrain. I’m still worried about scaring my friend.

Kenzie continues to slam her fingers into my cunt as I ride through my orgasm. Even after it subsides, she doesn’t stop. Kenzie continues groping my breasts and fucking me fast and hard until I feel a second orgasm building, and then a third. The experience is so overwhelming yet feels so incredible, and I think I might actually pass out.

*

present day…

I might have actually passed out that night, because I remember waking to very wet underwear that I certainly would have changed, had I stayed awake long enough.

That morning, Kenzie set the no-talking precedent. She acted as if nothing even happened, so I did as well, and all was normal… until it happened again. And again. And again. And here we are, three years later, still fucking in secret and silence. I can’t imagine a world without this kind of comfort from my best friend, but I can’t think of a solution that doesn’t involve lying to her fiancé, even if he is a total douche.

Please, Kenzie, I silently beg. Please figure something out so that I don’t have to lose you.