It’s the last bit of confidence I need.
I place my cup on the floor and slowly pull her chair toward the bed. She barely has time to dispose of her own cup before she’s close enough for me to lean forward and press my lips against hers.
A fun and surprised sound escapes her mouth, but she quickly recovers, pushing forward, cupping my face and kissing me back.
And holy hell, it’s amazing.
It’s different than it was with Tyler or with any of my past boyfriends. It’s softer. Sweeter. More intense.
Then she’s lifting herself from her chair to, I hope, sit next to me on the bed. Except that’s not what she does. She walks away, and I whimper because it’s been so long since I’ve made out with someone and—
Oh. She’s just closing the door.
When she walks back, the second she gets close enough, I grab the front of her shirt and pull her close. She comes to me easily and puts her hands over top of mine and guides them to the hem of her shirt. Together, we pull it over her head.
Then her lips are on my neck, and my hands are on her shoulders. She’s warm. And so,sosoft. I have the urge to feel more of her. To feel her skin against my own.
I yank off my shirt and toss it next to hers on the floor. Her lips trail lower. Down my neck and along my collarbone. She drags her mouth lower, and I watch as she descends down my chest.
Her wavy hair falls down her shoulders, and I blink. Because for a split second, I imagine it’s Alex. Except Emily’s hair is a shade too dark and the waves a touch too large. It’s a heartbeat. It’s no time at all, yet enough time to make me hesitate. Because in that single second, I wished that it was Alex sucking on the swell of my breast.
Emily must notice because she stops and sits back, looking concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just…” I try to smile. To think of a way I can explain this without sounding totally pathetic. Without confessing that for a breath in time, I wanted to have sex with my best friend. “It’s not you.”
Emily groans and pulls away just as I wince.
I’ve been on the other end of the “it’s not you, it’s me” conversation, and itsucked. It’s not what I wanted to say, especially not after how amazing Emily was making me feel. She did nothing wrong. In fact, she was doing everythingright.
“I’m sorry. You’re amazing. You make mefeelamazing. And you’re so hot. So very hot.” To emphasize my point, I openly take another look at her without a shirt. At least now she looks more curious than frustrated. “I know I started…” I motion between us. “This. It’s just, I don’t know how…I’ve never…” I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and try again. “I’ve never had sex with another woman before.”
Her expression softens. She puts her hand on my thigh and squeezes. The touch almost makes me want to say fuck it and insist that we keep going.
Almost.
But the thought of going any further also terrifies me. What if I don’t know what to do? What if I can’t climax? What if I can’t makeherclimax? What if I don’t like it?
What if I do?
Emily takes my hand. “Look, don’t apologize. I get it. I do. You’re not ready.”
The heat inside my body dies a bit when she says it aloud. Because as turned on as I am, and as great as she is, she’s right. I’m not ready.
When I was fifteen, Jeremiah Dredger and I snuck underneath the bleachers after school to make out. He got a little handsy, and when Ihad second thoughts, he took it personally. He made me feel like a tease and said it was crappy to get someone worked up only to change my mind. It’s always stuck with me, a nagging part of my mind telling me over and over again not to lead people on. Sometimes it can be louder than the part of my brain that screams, “It’s okay to say no! Decent people will still like you!”
And then there’s Luka Petrov. I didn’t want to leadhimon, too, so when things got serious, I let him take my virginity. Afterward, when I whispered that I thought I might love him, he told me it wasn’t like that for him, that he was just having fun and not to be so clingy.
Emily scoots closer and dips her head, catching my gaze and giving me a pointed look. “Seriously, I promise, it’s fine.”
She doesn’t seem upset, and it’s clear she’s not Jeremiah Dredger or Luka Petrov, but I still can’t help that nagging little bit of guilt. “You are so nice and super gorgeous, and quite possibly one of the best kissers I’ve ever made out with.” She smiles. “But I’m going through some things.”
“You don’t have to explain. Although, mentioning how attractive I am over and over doesn’t hurt. Here.” She hands me my shirt and pulls on her own.
I’m not sure where we go from here. Or what comes next. “Are we…”
“We’re cool,” she’s quick to assure. Again, all the right things. But the longer we sit here, the more awkward it starts to feel.
“You don’t have to go,” she says at the same time I say, “I should probably go.”
