“Well, part of my grand ridiculous romantic gesture plan that wasn’t actually very grand because you’re not a grand gesture kinda person involved it magically start raining at the end of the song and us making out in the rain.” Jasper shrugged, philosophical. “And based on the weather now, chances of that happening tonight are pretty slim. But you do have a fancy shower head in your bathroom.”
And before she could second guess anything, Raina leaned over and kissed Jasper. “It’s ridiculous how much I love you,” she said softly.
He grinned up at her. “Ridiculous enough to tick off a couple more things from the bucket list? Like, maybe pushing up the age that we were going to marry each other?”
Raina dropped her head onto his chest and giggled. “Possibly we should have some sex first. Like. A lot of it. Figure out our lives a little? Revisit the marriage question in a bit?”
“I didn’t necessarily mean today. I just meant, like, sooner than forty.” Jasper stroked her cheek. “But I’m definitely on board with having a lot of sex first.”
“Oh, man, you’re totally going to be that guy,” Raina said. “The one where when I propose to you, you’re going to post about getting engaged to your best friend.”
Jasper laughed, and rolled over so he was now looking down at her. It was a Happily Ever After kind of look, Raina thought. So much love that it didn’t seem real. But it was.
“Of course I’m going to post that,” he said. “And I’m not going to be wrong about it, either.”
And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t a Disney kiss. There were no fireworks, no dramatic sweeping music in the background, no twittering birds celebrating, no dragons vanquished quite yet.
But it was Jasper and it was Raina, and it was perfect.
Also by KK Hendin
Heart Breaths
Only The Good Die Young
Twelve Beats In A Bar
Come Back To Texas
A Different Kind of Fine
This Much Space
Beautiful Little Fool
Burning Bright
All The Wrong Reasons
Season Premiere
Episode One
Episode Two
Episode Three
Episode Four
Episode Five
Acknowledgments
Infinite gratitude to all the wonderful people in my life who have listened to me panic about my endless existential crisis, and have called me out on my bullshit, namely, Mom, Nearly, the original Dunkin’ girls, and the Hoes. I don’t deserve any of you, but I’m so grateful for you all.
About KK Hendin
KK Hendin writes books where people flirt awkwardly, make out, dish out a whole lot of sass and ridiculousness, and live happily ever after. She's the author of many books, including the ALL THE WRONG REASONS serial.
She also writes books as K. Hendin, where people aren't as nice and Happily Ever After isn't a guarantee.
KK is currently writing way too many books, and is still waiting for the subway to run on a regular schedule. When she's not playing book Tetris in an attempt to fit everything onto the bookshelves in her tiny NYC apartment, she's probably wandering her neighborhood with her camera or drinking yet another cup of coffee.
Subscribe to KK’s newsletter here: https://kkhendin.com/newsletter
Love Your Love
Ainsley Booth
About This Story
Two workaholics meet and fall in love. But that’s just the start of the story for business school prof Tanya and political staffer Penny. After connecting during a games night, Penny finds herself drawn to Tanya’s dear friend Win, a wild child artist who might fill a new part of Penny’s heart. And to her surprise, her beloved partner is all for Penny exploring a new relationship alongside theirs.
Love Your Love is a standalone story in the thematically connected Girls Who Love Girls series. The other stories are all available in Rogue anthologies.
1
Tanya
“When did you know you were poly?”
I blink up at the ceiling. It’s early. Like gray light kind of early, but my alarm went off ten minutes ago, and we’re having a snuggle before getting up for the day, because I’ve got a department meeting first thing and a night class tonight. A long day away from my love.
Her sleepy question has my slow brain playing catch up. “Uh… I don’t know. As soon as I heard the term, probably. I knew people in triads toward the end of high school, and that seemed to make sense to me. The more love the better.” I stop and think about how that might sound to her. “In general. Like our love is enough, you know that, right? But more love is good, too.”
“I know,” she murmurs, snuggling closer. She nudges me, our sign that I’m supposed to roll onto my side so she can spoon me. Reverse spoon, because our default is that I wrap around her. But in the morning, she likes it this way, too. It evens out her body, she says.
I’ve never given cuddling that much thought in my entire life.
“Why do you ask?”
She hesitates. “I don’t know.”
“Are you worried about us?”
“No.” A quick, gentle answer. Honest, I’m sure. “Not at all. I don’t know why. It just popped into my head. I think…I don’t think I’ve ever asked you that before, have I?”
Probably not. She was wary of my poly identity when we started dating. But my preference for being part of a larger relationship dynamic was always about me, not my partners. About my tunnel-vision mentality on…everything. Work, hobbies. Sex, sometimes. The layered nuances of being someone’s singular other half scared me before Penny.
Still does, sometimes, but that’s a weird wiggle in the back of my mind that I pull out and look at with my therapist once in a blue moon.
Not a going concern.
The last year with Penny has been wonderful. It was, in the end, a very easy decision to make. If I wanted to be with her, and I really did, because I love her fiercely, then I needed to be the only person she’s with.
And of course, it follows that she is my only love, too.
For the first time in my adult life, I’ve embraced the quaint loveliness of monogamy. I wriggle back against Penny, my bum rubbing her thighs, and she gives me a tight squeeze around the middle before sliding her fingers higher to trace my breasts. “You need to get up.”
“I know.” I sigh as she works my nipples into tight peaks. I roll over, all the way, so our naked bodies are pressed together, warm and soft and nice. Perfect. “You feel amazing.”
She smiles against my mouth as I kiss her. “Can we steal five more minutes?”
“Let’s take ten.”
* * *
It’s not until sometime late in the afternoon the next day that I realize something is bugging Penny, and I probably should have noticed sooner.
She decided early in the day to work from home, and told me about that, but then I didn’t see her actually do any work.
And I didn’t notice that for hours.
“I’m a terrible girlfriend,” I say as I set a cup of tea in front of her. She’s curled up in the vintage recliner we bought when she moved in, and she had to get rid of her equally vintage sofa because there wasn’t enough room for it in my apartment. I saw her sitting in it when I grabbed lunch in between grading assignments.
She hasn’t moved.
So I made her tea, and set aside my stack of grading.
She gives me a rueful smile. The kind of smile that I read as, yes you are a little, but I love you anyway. And then she says the opposite. “You are not. I love you exactly as you are.”
Which proves she’s more understanding than I am.
But I want to be more for her. “What’s wrong?”
She frowns. “Just in a funk.”
“How long?” How long have I been ignoring your pain?
Her nose scrunches up further, making her cheeks round and sweet, like apples. “A few days?” Then she shakes her head. “N
o, less than that. Yesterday was a long day at work. And I didn’t sleep well last night.”
I’m relieved I hadn’t missed a long slide into sadness, if it was just one day. But I’m still kicking myself that I buried myself in my own work all day instead of taking time to hold her, or distract her with sex.
Which is, of course, where my mind goes to now. Could I kiss her all over? Make her laugh, and then sigh, and then suck and lick her until her thoughts crumbled into dust in the face of the giant sex monster, mwahahaha.
Except that’s not how Penny works.
“Can I suggest some things?”
She shrugs. “Sure.”
I’ll put sex in the middle of the pack. “It’s Friday. We could go out. We could throw out an invite for a games night. I could distract you with orgasms.” She laughs with me, her eyes warming. She knows that’s what I want when I’m stressed. “We could go for a walk. Or I can make myself a cup of tea, too, and we can sit together.”
“Don’t you have work to do?”
I always have work to do. I’m a tenure-track biz school prof. It’s never-ending. “That can wait until tomorrow. What time did you get home yesterday? I thought you texted me before my class started saying you were leaving soon?”
She groans. “Ten, maybe? I don’t know. After I sent that, the mayor decided we should order dinner. And we worked for a good while after that.”
Penny’s a communications staffer for the mayor, who is considering a run for the presidency. It’s her dream job—and she hates it. We both have complicated relationships with our careers. It’s something that we bonded over in our early dating days. “Was it a productive session, at least?”
She makes a sound halfway between a whimper and a groan and shakes her head.
I sigh and lean in, giving her my warmth because I don’t have any answers. “Want to talk about it?”
“No. Yes. No. It mostly makes me so frustrated, because we’re late to the game, and probably the right thing for us to do—for him—to do is to back one of the women running. But he’s also the first openly gay candidate to get traction on the national stage like this, which I want to support. God, I want to support that. And I believe in him, you know?”
“I know.” But she wants a woman to win next time. I get it.
I want it too.
She takes a deep breath. “Maybe I need to quit.”
“If you want to, I’ll support that.”
“I know.” It’s a tiny whisper.
“Do you want to quit?”
There’s a long pause. No. She doesn’t. She wants to give him her all, get him as far as they can go, so his star rises. And hers will, too. The biz prof in me has no problem with that. The partner in me also has no problem with that.
There’s nothing wrong with ambition. But Penny doesn’t always agree.
“No,” she finally says. “I don’t want to quit. I want to play games with my friends and get myself out of this funk.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Excellent.” I pull out my phone and go to the group chat for friends in our vicinity. Win, two floors up, and her roommate Michael are both in. So are Penny’s friends Camilla and Elizabeth around the block. And like that, in a few moving text bubbles, our evening is rescued from my thoughtlessness. “I love technology.”
“I love you,” Penny whispers, kissing me as she lets out a sweet little breathy exhale. Which turns into a yawn.
“Are you too tired for a party?”
She laughs at my hyper-vigilance. “No. Not too tired. Just…a bit weary. Maybe I’ll take a nap before people come over. That would give you time to get more work done, too.”
I like that idea. And I’m relieved, too, because I want to be a good partner, but I also have a to-do list that makes me cry most days. Except that I like it like that, I like the pressure, and I love getting shit done.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur into her hair as we curl into our favorite spooning position on the bed.
“Stop,” she whispers. “You worry too much.”
“Yep. My complete personality type in a nutshell.”
“I’m fine. And tonight—” Another yawn slides out. “—is going to be so much fun.”
2
Penny
When I wake up from my nap, the apartment smells like limes and sugar.
“What are you making?” I call out, but Tanya doesn’t reply right away. The blender whirs. Margaritas?
But it’s not Tanya in the kitchen. It’s her friend Win from upstairs.
“Hey,” I say, stopping in the doorway.
Win shoots me a quick smile as she turns off the handheld blender—the source of the noise I heard. It’s not ours. She brought her own. “Hey, sleepyhead. Tan just went to the store for more cider and wine, because Michael’s bringing a boy tonight.”
“Oooh, that’s fun.”
“I know. He’s been so mopey lately.”
“Is that why you’re…” I point to the bowl. “Doing whatever you are doing?”
“Making Key Lime icing for cupcakes? Yep. Celebratory, Win-can-get-laid-again cupcakes.”
I laugh. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“He’s been crying on my couch for six weeks.”
“I think he cried once, and has been just kind of blue ever since.”
“Right.” Win makes a face. “I’m not the most thoughtful roommate, possibly.”
“Possibly.” But we’re both smiling now, and I think her complaining—which she never does, because she actually cares about Michael a lot—was mostly to amuse me.
It worked.
And it put my own blue week in perspective. I didn’t get dumped. And now that I’m feeling refreshed and happy, there’s a solid chance that Tanya and I will have sex tonight.
“What are you thinking about?” Win asks.
“Nothing.” My grin gets bigger. “I’m going to text Tanya, tell her I’m up.”
“K. I’ll just be here, assembling deliciousness.”
“Do you need any help?”
“Nope. But if you want to keep me company…” She pauses again and gives me her full attention. Win has this way of really looking at people that’s super inviting. Sometimes it feels like she has ten thousand close, personal friends. Half of the arts community, most of the LGBTQIA+ people in a ten-block radius, and every bodega owner between here and Harlem. “Come back and tell me how it’s going at City Hall.”
“Oh, you don’t want to know about that mess,” I protest. “Really.”
“Try me. Unless you can’t talk about it?”
I make a face. I probably shouldn’t. “It’s complicated.”
She throws her head back and laughs, a throaty, happy sound. “Isn’t everything? Go, before I pin you down and make you tell me every messy detail.”
“Pin me down if you really want to know,” I say, laughing.
She wiggles her eyebrows. “Okay.”
I shrug, and sigh. “Crisis of confidence in whether my boss’s career goals align with my philosophical leanings? Does that make sense?”
“Sure.”
I ignore the little niggle of disloyalty, because it’s more important that I voice my fear. Still, I decide to add an honest caveat. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m all in on Team Mayor. He’s smart and strong and kind. And I stan him so much for being a role model for gay kids who want to see themselves in politics. And there are always deals you need to make with yourself in politics. Picking battles versus taking a principled stand. But…” I trail off.
“But this time you want a woman to be our candidate for president.”
“I really fucking do.”
“Me, too.” Win makes a face. “I’m sorry. That’s a rough place to be. Does it hurt you in the long term to be on his campaign?”
“No.”
She shrugs. “Then do what you gotta do for now.”
“I was expecting you to tell me to quit in a loud, messy protest.”
My heart skips a beat. Yeah. There’s a part of me that’s tempted. But I don’t want to make this about me, either.
Win shakes her head. “That’s not you, though. And that’s okay. We need quiet people in every corner of this fight.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
I hear Tanya’s key in the door, and I rush to open it for her. When I pull it open, I find her with her arms overflowing with shopping.
I grab a bag from her and give her a quick kiss. “Hey.”
“I went overboard. There was a sale.”
“I love overboard. This is going to be fun. And Win is making cupcakes?”
She lights up, her entire face pleased at the surprise. “Too much?”
“Heck no. We’re having a full on spontaneous party, not just a games night.”
And to underline that point, there’s a knock at the door, and my friend Elizabeth and her girlfriend Camilla are there.
Michael arrives next, his date in tow. They’re both younger than the rest of us, but the new guy—Travis—seems nice, and I’ve picked games that aren’t particularly generational.
It doesn’t stop the age difference from being a conversation point, though. When Elizabeth and I get into a bit of back-and-forth politicking—because she’s a donor, and I’m incapable of letting an opportunity to plug our new initiatives go by—Travis is clearly, hopelessly lost.
Camilla leans in and says, completely innocently, “It’s okay. They explain all of this once you’re old enough to vote.”
Rogue Ever After (The Rogue Series Book 7) Page 30