I peek at her and decide to just be honest. “Recently, I’ve been having all these feelings about girls that I can’t explain. Mostly about Alex and how hot she is. Like, I’m mega attracted to her, which is new and confusing. Then I met Emily, and she was cute and interested in me, and last week, we almost had sex, but I chickened out because I didn’t know what I was doing. But it’s not just them. I’ve been really confused about my sexuality because there was also that bartender down in Bird Neck that I couldn’t stop staring at. And the barista at the local coffee shop. Then, last night, Alex just lookedso good, and when it started to rain, she asked if I wanted to dance. So we danced in the rain, and she walked me to my room, and I asked if she wanted to come in, and we kissed, and the next thing I know, we’re having sex.”
It comes out in a rush. I’m not even sure it makes sense, let alone is decipherable enough for someone else to follow. But Chloe must be used to my incoherent babbling because she only takes a beat to respond.
“Wow. That was a lot of ands.”
“I know.” I cross my arms on the table and drop my head on top of them, wanting to crawl into a hole. It’s all so confusing, but it’s also fine? I don’t even know. I haven’t had time to process. Despite the momentary relief of finally telling her, having this conversation in the middle of a crowded restaurant with Alex close by is really not ideal.
“Was it good?”
The memory of Alex between my legs, holding eye contact as she placed wet, lasting kisses along my inner thigh followed by a long slow swipe of her tongue…
Gooddoesn’t even begin to cover it.
I groan and nod into my arms, unable to bring myself to look at Chloe. “It was amazing.”
“Oh, Jules.”
My body tenses at the disappointed tone of her voice. Or maybe it’s not disappointment but…pity? Which is somehow way worse.
“Here are your coffees and a single orange juice.”
I manage a smile at the server who is, thankfully, totally oblivious to my inner turmoil. “Thank you.”
“Thanks,” Chloe says and waits until she walks away before leaning across the table. “Amazing, huh?”
“Is it weird? That it was amazing?” She arches a brow, and I frown, wondering if sex with my best friendshouldbe weird based on the way my other best friend is looking at me.
I’ve been thinking about it all morning. From the moment Alex woke up with a smile and asked me how I was feeling, all the way until she kissed my cheek and headed back to her room for a shower. It just felt…normal?
“Maybe it was amazingbecausewe’re friends. Because we’re comfortable with each other.”
“Comfortable doesn’t equate to good sex, though,” Chloe points out. “I was super comfortable with Tim Denny, and it was the worst sex I’ve ever had.”
Okay, so if comfortable is off the table… “Maybe it’s because she’s a girl who’s been with girls so she knows what she’s doing?”
Chloe thinks for a beat, then shakes her head. “Jon Jacobs wasn’t a girl, and hedefinitelyknew what he was doing. Knew all the right buttons to push.” Her expression shifts to something dreamy, and she lets out a long sigh. “I wonder what he’s up to these days?” Another beat passes, and she seems to shake herself out of her daydream. “So if it isn’t about being comfortable, and it isn’t about her being with girls before, what does it mean? Like, for you and Alex?”
And that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? Whatdoesthis mean? “I don’t think it has to mean anything.”
There’s the pitying look to match her tone. “Sex isn’t casual for you, Jules.”
She’s right. Ever since Luka Petrov, sex has to mean something to me. There has to be a connection and feelings and a foundation. But still, implying that last night was just a casual hookup doesn’t sit rightwith me, either. It might not have to mean anything past one night, but it certainly wasn’t meaningless.
“Alex and I have been friends for, like, twelve years. I wouldn’t call that causal.”
“Are you planning on doing it again?”
God, I hope so.
“No,” I say after a beat because Alex hasn’t given me any indication thatshewants to. If she did, she would’ve stayed in bed with me this morning, not darted off to her own room to shower. Alone.
Chloe takes a sip of coffee and peers at me over the top of her mug. “Then it was a one-night stand.”
“No, it wasn’t.” I struggle to find the words to explain it. “Why can’t it be just two friends who needed a release in a safe space, blowing off some steam?”
“We’ve been best friends since sixth grade, and not once have we ever,ever, ‘blown off some steam’ by having sex,” she reminds me. “Plus, didn’t you say you’ve been thinking about her that way lately?”
“Okay.” I draw the word out. “Both valid points.” Chloe waits, and I struggle to figure out where I stand with all this. “It’s not a big deal,” I finally say because it only is if I make it to be. And Alex and I agreed we wouldn’t let this change things.
