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“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 werereallykissing. 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.
