“It’s awesome that she let you stay there. I wish I had something like that.” She looked down at her hands and she was sad again.
“Wait right there,” I said, pointing to her so she wouldn’t move. I weaved my way through the tables and walked right into the back where Daisy was up to her neck in flour.
“Hey, you’re here on your day off?” she asked.
“Couldn’t stay away. Listen, can I get two chocolate croissants? I have a girl who needs them. And maybe if you could put a few aside in a bag for her to take home?” Daisy looked at me and then peered over the counter of the bakery at Fiona.
“Ohhhhh,” she said, as if she had caught on to something.
“It’s not . . .” I said, unsure of how exactly to explain everything with Fi.
Daisy put up flour-coated hands.
“Say no more. You’ve got it.” She scraped the flour off her arms and hands into the sink and then plopped two croissants onto a plate.
“I’ve got maybe five left. Is that enough?”
“Probably for a few hours,” I said. She gave me a look and then made a shoo-ing motion.
“Go, she looks hungry.” That was what Daisy did. She fed people. It was her thing. I set the plate on the table and Fiona looked up at me, a smile breaking out like sun from behind the clouds.
“Thanks,” she said, picking one up.
“Do you want anything else? I’m going to get some iced tea.” She said she also wanted some, so I rushed to the back and scooted by Jen, who also asked me what I was doing here, and filled two glasses with iced tea, and plopped two lemon slices on the rims.
I brought them back to Lacey and she looked up with wide eyes and a smear of chocolate on the side of her mouth. That was the only evidence that croissants had even existed. The plate was empty.
“I was hungry,” she said, sheepish.
“Damn, you should have told me you were that hungry,” I said, setting down the iced tea. “I would have brought more.”
The urge to reach out and wipe the chocolate from her face was almost unbearable. Finally, I did. I just let my hand reach out and my thumb scraped the chocolate from her skin. Before I could even consider the consequences, I popped my thumb in my mouth and licked off the little bit of chocolate.
Time stopped. She looked at me and everything in the café went away. Just like it had when I’d first seen her again. Only . . .
I blinked and shook my head.
“Sorry,” I said.
“No problem,” she said, her voice dazed. I knew I should be doing something, but I wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be.
A throat cleared and we both looked up like startled deer in car headlights.
“Your croissants,” Daisy said, holding out the bag to me. Her eyes flicked between me and Fiona and back again and she gave us both a smile.
“Enjoy.” She wasn’t just talking about the croissants. Oh, I was going to get an earful at work tomorrow.
I unrolled the top of the bag and pulled one of them out. Might as well, since Fi had eaten two.
She sipped her iced tea, but the tension between us had ratcheted up about five thousand notches. I could barely think with her sitting right across from me. I moved my legs and accidentally bumped her feet under the small table. I felt like all eyes were on us. I wished I could put up a wall that we could hide behind. But then I’d be alone with her and that wasn’t good either.
I couldn’t win.
We were crossing territory we’d already crossed, only this time we were older and a little bruised from the last encounter.
“I miss you. I miss you so much sometimes that it hurts,” she said quietly, staring at the plate of crumbs.
I opened my mouth to answer, but I couldn’t. I had missed her. I thought about all the times that I had wanted to tell her something I knew would make her laugh, or something that only she would understand. I’d lost count of how many times it had happened. I’d tried to ignore it, but that wasn’t possible. I’d filed those moments away in the backroom of my brain and had covered them with the hurt from our breakup. But now . . .
Now that cover was slowly sliding off and I was remembering how good things had been.
We sat again in silence and I felt like I was being ripped apart at the seams. Something had to give. Something had to happen. We teetered on a precipice and something had to give.
“I miss you, too,” I said, and she reached out to clutch my hand.
“I know I fucked up, Cricket. I know I did. But I just want to know if maybe . . . if maybe you would consider being my friend again?”
“I’ll have to think about it, Ladybug,” I said and she stroked her fingers along mine. I had to close my eyes because I couldn’t look at her. She was just too beautiful. Too much. She consumed me.
“Okay,” she said, taking her hand back. I shivered at the loss of contact. “That’s okay. I don’t want to pressure you. It just feels like we were meant to run back into each other for a reason.” Of course she would say that.
“Unfinished business?” I said, trying to lighten things up.
“Like ghosts?”
I shrugged one shoulder.
“But we’re not ghosts,” she said.
“Not yet.”
She smacked my shoulder.
“Don’t be morbid.”
Phew. Things had gotten a little too serious there.
Seven
In the end, we both finished all the croissants and I didn’t want to admit that to Daisy, so we ended up slinking out of the café. Well, not really slinking. We were both too full to slink.
“What now?” I asked. I’d gotten the feeling that she really didn’t want to go home and that was fine with me. “The house is available, apparently, since Lacey is here so you can come over and enjoy free air-conditioning and we can watch a movie while we digest,” I suggested. She nodded and said that would be fine.
*^*^*
Fiona stayed with me until Lacey and Anna came back with bags of takeout seafood, including lobster rolls.
Fi seemed uncomfortable, but we all assured her that it was fine to stay for dinner. Lacey plunked a lobster roll and some fried zucchini on her plate and gave her a smile.
“You’re always welcome here,” Lacey said. I reached under the table and squeezed Fi’s hand. She squeezed my hand back and then picked up her lobster roll. There was also fried shrimp, fried clams, fries, and bottles of cheap local beer.
“I always say we should have a lobster bake, but why do that when you can just buy it?” Anna said. “It’s not like we really have the space for that in the yard.”
“You can hire someone to do them now,” Lacey said.
“I know you’re all set on writing about queer stuff, but could you moonlight as a food writer?” Anna said, leaning against her and pouting.
“I mean, I can specifically search for queer chefs and business owners,” Lacey said. “I could do a whole food series.” Anna’s eyes lit up.
“Yes, do this thing,” she said. “You must.” Lacey laughed and kissed Anna on the nose. I had to look away. Seeing them together and so cute was making me feel weird. I turned to look at Fiona, but she just looked . . . wistful. Like any minute she was going to put her chin on her hands and her eyes were going to turn into pulsing cartoon hearts.
I had to look away from her too, so I focused on my food. I was also trying to tell myself that this wasn’t a double date, because it was starting to feel like one. Lacey and Anna’s cuteness was affecting my brain. I was getting relationship feels by osmosis.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Lacey said. Anna grinned and rubbed her face against Lacey’s shoulder like a cat. I shouldn’t have invited Fiona over.
*^*^*
Later, we all crammed on the couch to watch Imagine Me & You for the millionth time.
“I love this movie,” Fiona said in my ear. Since the couch was so small, I was practically in her lap. I’d thought about sitting on the floo
r, but being this close to her was . . .
It was nice. I could smell her hair and feel the warmth radiating from her skin and if I shifted just a little, I could rest my head against her shoulder.
So I did. I felt her shock, but then she relaxed. I looked down and found her hand creeping over toward my leg. Oh. Lacey and Anna were wrapped around each other like they were trying to melt into one being with two souls, so they weren’t paying attention. My heart rate kicked up and Fi started softly stroking up and down my leg. Like we used to.
I wasn’t paying attention to the movie anymore. No matter; I’d seen it dozens of times. I shifted so I was closer to her and put my hand on my thigh, right near where her fingers were making patterns on my jeans.
Our pinkies crashed into each other and I sucked in a breath. Why was my hand touching hers such a big deal? I’d touched her hands hundreds of times before. When we were kids we held hands as little girls did. I had loved her then, but in a friendship way. I had loved her for years as a friend before it turned into something else.
She pulled back a little, but my hand chased hers. Trying not to think what a bad idea it was, I slid my hand over hers and twined our fingers together. There.
I couldn’t look at her, but she was staring at me.
I thought I was going to die. Part of me wished I could melt into the floor and other (a majority) parts of me couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that we were holding hands.
And I’d told her I would have to think about being friends with her again. This wasn’t exactly friendly behavior. It was something else.
We kept our hands entwined until the movie ended and Lacey got up with a yawn. Most of the lights were off, but I took my hand back and Fiona put hers in her lap. As if nothing had happened.
“Fuck, I’m tired. I think I need to go to bed,” Lacey said, stretching her arms over her head, shoulders popping. Anna was giving her a look and I remembered that they hadn’t seen each other in a little while and probably wanted some alone time.
Good thing the studio wasn’t right next to their bedroom. I could feel my face getting red.
“Yeah, I’m tired too. Do you, um, want to just chill in the studio with me?” I asked Fiona. I didn’t think she wanted to leave yet and I didn’t want her to, but I also wanted to give Anna and Lacey some privacy.
“Sure,” Fiona said, figuring out what was going on by the looks Lacey and Anna exchanged.
“Goodnight,” I said, waving and dashing toward the studio. Lacey and Anna barely noticed.
I shut the door to the studio and quickly booted up my laptop to play some music to cover any and all sounds that we might hear. I shuddered at the thought and turned up the Halsey.
“Are you sure you’re okay with me being here? It seems like we might be . . . intruding,” Fiona said, inching toward the door.
“We can go out somewhere if you’re uncomfortable. I’m not sure where because, even in the summer, nothing is open past ten.” Nothing except one small bar, which we couldn’t get into. Or maybe we could, but I didn’t want to try and fail at that.
“No, it’s fine,” Fiona said, chewing her bottom lip. Her cheeks were a little red and I didn’t know exactly why.
“Should we talk?” I asked, sitting down on the bed and patting the space next to me.
“Um, yeah, probably.” She came over and sat down next to me.
“I don’t . . . I don’t really know what I’m doing and why it’s happening, but I just . . . I miss you so much,” she said, leaning into me, her eyes bright. I thought she was going to cry.
“I missed you so much. I missed this,” I said, taking her hand and entwining her fingers with mine. “This.”
I thought she was going to smile, but then she leaned her face closer to mine and I knew what was going to happen. She was going to kiss me. I was going to kiss her back.
I leaned. She leaned. We both leaned. There was a lot of leaning. Her mouth was a whisper away and all I had to do was lean just a little bit more. She held back, letting me make the decision. I wanted. I wanted to so much.
Fiona was the dreamer in our relationship. The one who took risks. I was the one who thought about everything too much. Who considered every single angle before making a choice. I didn’t want to think anymore. Thinking so much was exhausting. All I wanted to do was feel.
So I raised my other hand and cradled her cheek, bringing her face to meet mine. There.
The kiss was so soft and so tender that it wasn’t even a kiss at first. We were both holding back. And then the feel of her mouth on mine and the fact that we’d kissed so many times before flooded my brain with memories and then we were really kissing. It was so familiar and so new at the same time. I remembered how she felt, how our mouths fit together. The mechanics were the same.
But had my blood always been on fire like this? Had she always stolen my breath? Past and present coalesced together into the current moment and all I could see, taste, and smell was Fiona. Thoughts collided and died in my head, as if they had to make room for her.
She pulled back and I made a little sound of protest. She rested her forehead against mine.
“Stop thinking.” My only answer was to pull her back and kiss her again. And again. And again.
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.