Eight
So much for trying to be friends. I couldn’t exactly be platonic friends with Fiona, and to think that I could have was ridiculous. There was a pull between us that neither of us could deny. A need. A chemistry. I wanted her and she wanted me. In all ways.
We kissed for what felt like hours. In fact, she’d been the last person I’d kissed. I hadn’t been able to kiss anyone since her. I liked kissing, very much, but I liked it especially with Fiona Davis. I more than liked it.
Somehow, we ended up horizontal on the bed and my fingers started to make their way under her shirt. I craved her skin. I couldn’t get close enough. Our kissing had quickly turned intense, with tongues being liberally used, and both of us gasping for breath.
This time, I pulled back.
She smiled at me as we lay wrapped together like Lacey and Anna had been on the couch.
“Did you know that was going to happen?” she asked me.
“No, of course not. I still hadn’t decided if we could be friends,” I said. Well, that was fucking out the window now.
“And now?” she asked, brushing some of my hair out of the way. It had gotten all tangled during our kissing session.
“And now I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” I rolled onto my back and looked at the ceiling. I was still trembling a little from the intensity of kissing Fiona.
“That’s good because I don’t either,” she said, mirroring my position.
“Do you ever feel like you know what you’re doing?” I asked her.
I felt her shake her head, and turned back onto my side, propping my head up. “Not really. Fake until you make it, right?”
“Nothing about that kiss was fake, Fi,” I said and she turned her head to look at me. Her lips were bright from the friction of kissing.
“I know, and that’s the problem.”
That was our problem.
“I’m not ready to be together, together,” I said. She nodded.
“I understand. It would be . . . it wouldn’t be easy. With both of us at different colleges in different states.” I nodded. Exactly. I had never bargained on long distance. Fiona had broken up with me before we could even talk about what we would do if we’d stayed together after high school.
“Doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it,” she said.
“Whoa, that’s a little fast for me, Fi.” She’d always been the one who barreled ahead. Who went all-in. Who didn’t have to think about every little potential problem or roadblock. That was me. That had always been me. I’d thought it worked for us.
“I know. I know it is, because I know you. I didn’t mean to come back into your life and make things more complicated. That’s not what I wanted.” This was . . . complicated.
“You weren’t the only one kissing,” I said. “Fuck.”
“Exactly,” she said.
*^*^*
We just sort of lay there with our separate thoughts for a while.
“I don’t want to go home,” she finally said. I’d figured, but she hadn’t said it out loud yet.
“You can stay, if you want. There’s a couch, or we could share the bed.” The upside of Lacey having her studio was that there were numerous places to crash if you needed to. And I didn’t think she would mind Fiona staying for one night. Just one. I had heard a few sounds coming from the bedroom and they were definitely going to be occupied for a while and not thinking about what Fiona and I were doing.
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah, absolutely. I have to work tomorrow, but you could come and hang out in the back with me, or maybe bring a book and read or something.” I was struck by this want and need to take care of her. To wrap her up in my arms and protect her from the world. To show her the world that I had found that accepted and embraced me. The world that made me feel safe.
I wanted that for her.
“Okay,” she said. I smiled at her and went to go find some pajamas that might fit her.
*^*^*
She decided, wisely, that sleeping in the same bed was probably a bad idea.
“What, afraid you can’t keep your hands off me?” I joked just so I could see her blush.
“No,” she said, arranging the pillows on the couch.
I knew I might not be able to keep my hands off her, and pushing things further than they had already gone tonight wasn’t a thing I wanted to do. My head was still so scrambled and I knew I wasn’t going to get much sleep. Not with Fiona in the room. Not with her breathing distracting me.
Every time she moved, I wondered if she was going to get off the couch and ask to join me in the bed. I wondered if I would get up and join her on the couch. Or ask her to join me.
So many paths to take. I didn’t know which was the right one. Which was the logical one. Feelings screwed everything up.
Was I still hurt from our breakup? Yes. Did kissing her erase that? No. But . . . what if? What if we could start over? Not really starting over. I didn’t know what to call it. Maybe starting again? I had no idea how it was going to work. I had no idea if it was a good idea. But I did know that I wanted to kiss Fiona a lot more. And spend time with her. And just . . . be with her again. I wanted to be with her again.
*^*^*
The next morning, I woke up before Fiona. Which was a lie because I hadn’t really slept. I’d been in and out, but it had been more like napping.
I tried not to be a total creeper, but I did lay there and watch her chest rise and fall. She’d always slept on her back, something that I always found odd and endearing. To be honest, I found nearly everything about Fi odd and endearing. I didn’t know what she’d told her parents, but when I asked her what they would say about her not coming home, she’d just shrugged. Okay.
I listened, but didn’t hear anything from the kitchen, so I opened the door and tiptoed out. My plan was to make a quick breakfast for me and Fi and then sneak back into the studio to give Anna and Lacey some space.
But as soon as I put some bread in the toaster oven, the bedroom door opened and Anna came out, her hair all over the place and a sleepy smile on her face.
“Good morning,” she said, shuffling to the coffeemaker. She was moving a little stiffly and I was not going to ask.
“Um, Fiona stayed over last night. She got tired and didn’t want to go home. She slept on the couch.” I felt the need to add the last thing so she wouldn’t get any ideas. Anna slowly turned to me.
“Oh did she now?” she said, leaning her hip against the counter. Ugh. I knew this was going to happen.
“We’re not sex-crazed like some people,” I said and she batted at my shoulder with her hand.
“Look, you try being in a semi-long distance relationship with a smoking hot girlfriend and then tell me how that goes for you.” If, if Fi and I decided to do this thing, we’d be long distance for another two years for us to both finish school. Two years was a long fucking time. I didn’t know if I could get through that.
But I was getting too far ahead of myself. I always did that.
“Whatever,” I said, and turned to watch the toast so it didn’t burn. The last thing I needed today was burned toast. Anna hummed to herself as she grabbed some pastries, put them on a plate and then put the plate on a tray, along with two cups of coffee and some orange juice.
“Stop trying to make the rest of us look bad,” I said as she marched back toward the bedroom with her and Lacey’s breakfast.
“No one’s stopping you,” she said as she knocked on the door and then Lacey sleepily admitted her.
Just as I was buttering my own toast, Fiona tiptoed out of the studio.
“Hey,” she said quietly.
“You don’t have to pretend you’re not here. This isn’t a walk of shame. I told Anna you’d stayed over and made it clear that you’d slept on the couch,” I said, but Fi still seemed worried.
“It’s fine. You’re welcome here,” I said, going over and rubbing her arm. She gave me a shy smile and I really wanted to kiss her. I really wanted to pull her into my arms and smile into her mouth and kiss her until the coffee brewed again. Then I wanted to sit on the couch, our legs entwined, and feed each other breakfast and maybe watch an old movie.
Unfortunately, I had to work, and she had to go home. Still, we could at least eat breakfast together in the studio on the couch. Almost as good.
“What are you going to do today?” I asked. I didn’t want to seem like I was nagging her. I just really wanted to know what she was going to do when she wasn’t with me.
“I don’t know. I might, um, stop at the café for a bit? If that’s okay?”
“Of course it’s okay! I’d love to see you. I’ll bring you free food.” Jen and Sal wouldn’t care. Her eyes lit up.
“Would there be croissants?”
“Ladybug, there will always be croissants.”