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The next morning, Chloë was in her bed with Sienna who was resting her head on Chloë’s chest, slowly circling Chloë’s right nipple with her forefinger. Diffused sunlight was coming through the small window, colored slightly blue from the curtains.
“So, let me get this straight,” Sienna said. “Vanessa told you before you went to the wine bar that this Miss Banks—”
“Morgan,” Chloë corrected, still smiling at the fact that she got to call her by her first name.
“Okay, that Morgan had been checking you out all during the coffee tasting?”
“Right,” Chloë confirmed.
Chloë recalled now that moment when Vanessa leaned in and said, “That woman has not been able to take her eyes off you all night, sweetie! Like, all night!”
“But Morgan told you later that she’s straight?”
“Right.”
“So, Vanessa was wrong?”
“No! See, that’s the thing. Vanessa is never wrong about shit like that! If she says a woman was checking me out, then the woman was checking me out. And she wouldn’t fuck with me just for fun.”
“Well, obviously she’s wrong this time,” Sienna insisted. “I mean, I would think Morgan would know whether she’s straight or not.”
Chloë felt her nipple harden because of Sienna’s finger. In a few minutes, this was going to get distracting. They had just had sex and now Sienna was cuddling, which was unusual for her, for them. Chloë figured it must be because Sienna was nervous about tonight.
“Anyway, Morgan is coming with you to The Ink Well later?”
“Yep.”
“Ooh, like a date!”
Chloë sucked her teeth and patted Sienna’s bottom.
“Shut up.”
“Okay,” Sienna went on, “I’ll try to get a read on her and let you know what I think.”
“Dude, don’t do anything scary.”
Sienna’s fingers were now kneading Chloë’s nipple gently. Chloë couldn’t help but let out a little groan.
“Scary?” Sienna asked. “Chloë, I’m going to be too busy concentrating on getting your tat right to even think about being scary to your straight crush.”
“Seriously, why can’t gay women just be labeled?” Chloë asked after a moment.
“I’d rather the straight ones were labeled,” Sienna said. “Let them know what it feels like to be identified only by a category.”
She shifted so that now she was laying on top of Chloë, who gasped in surprise. Sienna held Chloë’s eyes with her own.
“I’m going to go down on you now,” Sienna whispered.
“Lucky me,” Chloë whispered back, already opening her legs.
“I give you permission to think of Morgan while I’m doing it.”
And with that, Sienna’s head was between Chloë’s legs in a flash.
***
At 5:25 that evening, Chloë’s phone pinged. This time, she knew where the damn thing was. She had made sure to know where the damn thing was because Chloë was expecting the Morgan Banks to text her when she was at the gate.
