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“No, it’s—”
“I just assumed because you were at the coffee tasting. You know, the coffee tasting for lesbians…?”
“My friend Naomi invited me!” Morgan hurriedly explained. “She’s gay! She also felt I needed a night out with women, away from men.”
Suddenly, Chloë started laughing and Morgan couldn’t help but join in. It felt great, actually, because it was erasing the tension of the past few moments.
“Oh, thank fuck you told me!” Chloë said. “I was so going to put the moves on you tonight!”
Morgan stopped laughing, her mouth falling open again.
Oh my!
She needed another sip of water before she could ask, “You…you were?”
“Dude, totally!” Chloë confirmed, still laughing. “I had such a huge crush on you back in high school! Like, wow! Huge!”
“Um…I’m flattered,” Morgan said with a smile, realizing with some alarm that she was actually a little more than flattered. Chloë was a stunning young woman. And that pixie-cut hairstyle was not only cute, it suited her to perfection. Morgan figured there were about ten women in the world who could pull that hairstyle off and Chloë was eight of them.
The way Morgan saw it, Chloë could probably do nothing more than crook her finger and every gay woman within line of sight would come running to her. Yet, Chloë had just confessed to wanting to put the moves on her tonight. Her! Morgan Banks. Quickly-approaching-middle-aged-boring-high-school-teacher Morgan Banks.
Then, with even more alarm, as these thoughts rushed through her head, Morgan felt the need to cross her legs.
It’s the wine!
“Whew!” Chloë said, expelling a breath. “Thank God!”
Morgan frowned.
“Well, you don’t have to sound so relieved about me not being gay,” she said.
Fuck, that sounded flirtatious!
She signaled for the waitress and asked for more water.
“No, it’s not that,” Chloë began. “I would so take you home tonight; like, in a heartbeat. It’s just that, for me anyway, it’s less embarrassing finding out I have zero chance of getting you in bed at this point than later, like when I tried to kiss you or something.”
Morgan’s eyes went directly to Chloë’s lips. Pink, full, shimmering with some kind of gloss that seemed like it had glitter in it. When she looked back up to Chloë’s eyes, she realized Chloë had caught her staring at her lips. Chloë sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth and quirked an eyebrow. Morgan’s mind scrambled for something to say.
“Um…I hope your invitation to hang out with you to get your tattoo tomorrow still stands,” she managed to get out. “You know, despite me not being gay.”
Chloë laughed.
“Dude, of course! And I hope your invitation to see your new house still stands. You know, despite me wanting to put the moves on you tonight.”
Morgan’s heart thudded.
“Dude, of course!” she said, mimicking Chloë. “Actually—and I mean this—I hope we can become friends, Chloë. I’ve had such a good time tonight with you. I’d like to see more of you.”
Chloë beamed. Then she leaned forward again and as if her cleavage was a magnet and Morgan’s eyes iron, Morgan couldn’t help but look at the swell of the younger woman’s breasts.
“I’d like to see more of you too,” Chloë said.
Under the table, Morgan crossed her legs again.
It’s the wine.
Chapter 7
