Nothing at first

Once Wilson caught her breath again, she stepped out of the shower, throwing the door open. The lust for her best friend was completely out of control.

Chris' mouth dropped open in shock. Sure, he'd seen Wilson topless before (by accident two years ago; he'd immediately turned away in embarassment), but now, with her usually spiky blond locks soaking wet and limp, completely naked before him; it was too much.

"Wilson, are you . . . " The young musician's question was cut off by his friend lunging forward, cupping his chin in her hands.

"Shhh, my love." With that comment, she locked her lips on Chris. Using her tongue to pry open his mouth, she began Frenching him in earnest.

Chris was stunned. This formerly Joan Jett wannabe was acting like a horny bimbo on him. Sure, the kisses were hotter than molten lava, but as Wilson began to push him towards the bed, Chris broke it off.

"Hold up, Wilson, I can't do this."

"Don't you mean, you SHOULDN'T do this?" Wilson's voice grew heavy with lust.

Chris sat up. Heading over to the dresser, he took out his Deep Purple t-shirt and handed it to his best friend. On her smaller form, the shirt fell to just past her ass.

"Don't get me wrong, Melanie." Using Wilson's first name got her attention; he rarely called her Melanie unlesss something was wrong. "I love you. I think you're the closest friend I've ever had in my life. Sure, I've got a bit of a fantasy life, but I've always imagined my first time being . . . sane and normal. I don't know what's gotten into you, but I don't wanna take advantage if you're on something." The redneck looked into her eyes. "Are you?"

"I'm not sure. For some reason, I just got so incredibly turned on. I've never felt things like this before, especially about you. I mean, you're like a brother to me."

The duo crawled onto Wilson's bed. Nothing physical happened between them; they just held each other like long-time lovers, talking softly. After a few minutes, Veronica walked into the room.