by E. J. Noyes
I tried to ignore the reference to her butt to focus on her question. On a scale of 1 to 10, he was -3.
Ouch. Sorry. Good food at least?
Just drinks. What season of ANTM?
Cycle 7, they just did that weird ass circus shoot. Megg’s bearded lady and CariDee’s elephant lady WTF?
CariDee won the whole thing, didn’t she? Did you know the real Elephant Man died of a dislocated neck in his sleep because his head was so heavy?
I did not know that.
I was so absorbed in my back-and-forth with Brooke that I hadn’t noticed the cab had stopped in front of my work building. A pointed throat clearing tore my attention from my screen. “Sorry.” I glanced at the meter, handing him more than enough to cover the fare and slipped out of the cab with a hasty, “Thanks!”
I drove home at my usual breakneck speed, then beelined for the mail room and collected a stack of mail which I tucked under my arm so I could keep texting Brooke.
Just got home. Time to undo all my hard work. Can’t believe I redid my makeup after work for such a dud guy. Ugh.
Mm. You looked amazing. Stupid boring guy is an idiot.
He is. Such a waste of time. Kinda wish I’d taken you up on tacos and TV. I missed your company tonight.
There was no answer, and my worry escalated. Maybe I’d overstepped that friendly flirting line that we seemed to have drawn. Maybe I should stop sending mixed messages—the confused straight girl maybe testing the waters wasn’t fair to Brooke. To be honest, it was starting to feel a little unfair to me too.
It was starting to feel like it wasn’t quite enough.
My phone pinged as I was setting my keys in the clay bowl Sabine had made for me during her recovery. Boredom makes people do weird things, like a brief bout of dabbling with pottery.
Mouth dry, I raised my phone to read Brooke’s message.
Me too, a whole lot.
Chapter Seventeen
Sabs leaned close, a hand cupped beside her mouth. “I think Brooke’s about to make a sneak play for a goal. This game is awesome.”
“Why are you covering your mouth?”
“So the other team can’t read my lips.”
“Are you serious? It’s not the fucking Frisbee Super Bowl. And they’re all far enough away that I’m pretty sure they can’t figure out what you’re saying.” I glanced at Brooke, who stood bent at the waist with her hands on her thighs, and tried to figure out what gave her motive away to Sabine. I could find no answer, probably because I wasn’t really a sports person. As if she’d heard us talking about her, Brooke turned her head and stared right at me and even at this distance I could see her grin.
Sabs leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. After a few moments, she hmm’d and mmm’d, twisting around to look at me. “Brooke’s cute. Really good at this game. Very, uh…lithe.”
I only just suppressed the snarl rising up my throat, settling for a choked sort of growl. “Don’t.”
“What? You don’t think she’s cute?”
“Yes I do, I mean no, I mean…that’s not it. She’s my friend, Sabs.”
“So? You’ve never cared if I’ve thought your friends were cute before.”
“This is different.” Different how? Different because I wanted Brooke for myself? Different because my out-and-proud-her-whole-life sister was free to express herself as she pleased while I fumbled about in what I was now beginning to realize might be a closet.
“Mmm, right.”
I could tell she was being deliberately antagonistic and I chose to ignore her annoying digs and focus on the task at hand—enjoying watching Brooke and its associated pleasure. So with knowledge of that pleasure, what was stopping me from marching up to her once this game was done and declaring, “I think you’re cute and you have a great ass and a fabulous smile and you’re funny and just great and also I really love your ears”?
Actually, that was a good point. What was stopping me?
Fear? Maybe a little, though about what specifically I wasn’t sure. Fear of the unknown? That it was one-sided?
Uncertainty? Maybe I was confusing the sudden rush of a quickly formed friendship for something more. Maybe I was just trying out another thing Sabs did, the way I had my whole life. No, being gay wasn’t something Sabs did. It was who she was, as much a part of her as her intellect, her weird but hilarious sense of humor and her intense compassion.
Maybe the thing holding me back was the niggling doubt that this whole Brooke thing was just a casual dip of my toe into the lesbian waters and it wasn’t really real.
Brooke’s sprint and leap to catch the Frisbee immediately nixed the idea of my attraction being a casual thing. The movement, at once strong and graceful made my stomach flutter not unlike the feeling I’d had upon waking up after the Grape-Nuts dream. As sneakily as I could, I tilted my head to get a better look. Oh. Yes. Mhmm, yeah, it’s really real.
Brooke flung the Frisbee to the end zone, then threw both hands up in the air when it sailed right over the line and into the hands of a teammate. I jumped to my feet, cupped both hands around my mouth and yelled, “Way to go, Brooke!” followed by a loud cheer and clapping.
“I don’t remember you ever cheering that loudly for me,” Sabs commented dryly, clapping as well, though with a little less enthusiasm than mine.
“That’s because you never scored game-winning goals.”
My sister laughed freely. “I never played anything as a kid that needed goal scoring.” After a nudge, she reminded me, “She really is a great athlete.”
“I know,” I murmured. “She’s great at a lot of things.”
Sabs mumbled something under her breath, but I was too busy watching Brooke to catch what she’d said.
Brooke’s team surged to a thrilling victory, helped by her five goals—each one to enthusiastic cheering from me, and appreciative cheering from Sabs. Once she’d celebrated onfield with her teammates, Brooke jogged over to us with a huge grin splitting her face. She looked so pleased with herself that I couldn’t help but open my arms to her and she stepped into my embrace immediately.
The hug was natural, no hesitation from either of us, and the moment her grip tightened around my waist I relaxed into her and squeezed back. As sneakily as I could, I inhaled her scent. The mix of soap, shampoo, and sweat was some seriously incredible pheromone or something. Then I remembered I was supposed to be supporting her, not sniffing her and dialed myself back a few degrees. “Congratulations! That was awesome.”
“Thanks,” Brooke mumbled against my ear. She held the hug for a few more seconds, then slowly released me.
When we’d separated, Sabs stepped forward. “Great game,” she agreed. “You looked very capable. And fabulous winning throw. You guys looking for any new players?”
Brooke laughed. “Thanks. And we’re always keen for fresh blood.” She offered her hand to Sabine. “I’m Brooke Donnelly.”
“The dress guru and migraine rescuer. Great to finally meet you. I’m Sabine, Jana’s sister, as you’d know if she had any manners and introduced us.”
I kicked her ankle, gratified by the grunt huffed out in response. After a smiling, eyebrow-raised look at me and my sister, Brooke turned her attention back to Sabs. “I can see that. A pleasure to meet you too, and congratulations on your upcoming nuptials.”
“Oh, thank you.” Sabs shot me a sideways look, but instead of saying something snide or teasing, she sobered. “And seriously, thanks for taking care of this one while I was stuck at work, and for making sure she didn’t bring home her dress with some gaping hole in it or something.”
Time to pipe up. “Hey, right here and also not five years old.”
Sabs absently patted my shoulder. “Yes, yes, of course. You’re an adult and capable and clever and all that.” She dodged my second ankle kick. I really needed to learn to go for a different body part the second time around.
Brooke chuckled. “Can’t argue with that.” She shot me a question
ing look. “Are you still coming out for drinks with us, Jana?”
“Absolutely. Whenever you’re ready.”
Brooke turned her attention to Sabine. “You’re welcome to come along of course, Sabine.”
“Thanks, but I might pass. Long work week and I’m looking forward to some book and couch time.”
Brooke’s response was lightning fast. “No worries. I can take Jana home.”
I nodded, and Sabs offered her thanks as something caught her attention and her face split into a wide grin. “Excuse me, sorry, I’ve just spotted a friend.”
“Sure,” Brooke and I agreed together as Sabs backed away.
My sister loped over to Beth, who was already squealing and opening her arms to receive Sabs for a hug. The two of them embraced wildly, and from where we stood fifty feet away, I could hear their excited chattering. Beth pinched Sabine’s cheeks, and they laughed and hugged again. I shook my head. “I didn’t know they were such good friends. She said they were part of the same crowd years ago, but this looks like some serious long-lost friend shit.”
“It does. I guess that’ll make it easier if she ends up playing Ultimate with us.”
“Mmm.” I turned away from my sister’s reunion to grab Brooke’s hand for another congratulatory squeeze. “Speaking of, you played so well! Seriously awesome. They should give you the woman of the match award.”
“It’s your cheering that makes me play better.” Her grin was smug, almost cocky. “I especially liked the way you yelled that rhyme. Something about Brooke and cook wasn’t it?”
“Ah yeah.” I had to fight the urge to scuff my foot in embarrassment. “Sorry. Sabs was egging me on and I really didn’t put much thought into it.”
“Not at all, it was hilarious, we were all laughing. Sabine seems really great. Are you guys always like that?”
“Pretty much. Usually worse. We try to behave when we’re in public but aren’t always successful.”
“It’s super cute. I can’t imagine playing around with Marshall like that.” Her eyebrows scrunched. “My family is pretty serious.”
“And mine’s pretty wacky.”
“Wacky is fun.” She peered around at the other women all chattering and laughing as they packed up their gear. “I think we’re done. Ready to head to the bar to celebrate?”
Ready to do pretty much anything with you, yep, whatever you want. Dial it down again, Jana. Keep it simple. “I am.” Okay, maybe that was too simple.
We headed to a different spot this time, Lola’s, which I quickly realized was a lesbian bar. And apparently a place The Disc Dykes and Co. frequented regularly. The staff greeted a couple of them, including Brooke, by name and helped us drag a few tables together to claim a corner in the back near the empty stage and a life-size painting of Marlene Dietrich. The space quickly turned raucous but fun.
Brooke had a single beer then swapped to soda, while I worked on a few glasses of wine. Same as the other post-game gathering with Brooke’s friends, I was enfolded into the group immediately. Most importantly, as the afternoon wore on, I was ever conscious of Brooke’s knee resting against mine, with neither of us seeming to feel the need to move. My instinct to press against her and slide my hand onto her knee and up her thigh was so overwhelming that only constant censure kept my hands above the table.
The group began to thin after a couple of hours, citing various reasons for having to bail—mostly because of a partner or kids. Brooke lightly touched my arm and leaned over to murmur in my ear, “Whenever you want to go, just say the word.”
I turned my head, and was immediately aware of her proximity, barely two inches away. The tight hold I had on myself slipped a fraction and for a moment I leaned closer until I caught myself and moved back again. “Your call. Happy to stay or leave at any time.”
She bit her lower lip and when she spoke her voice was still quiet. “In about ten minutes, it’s going to devolve into tabletop dancing and knowing this group, likely with a fair bit of skin bared.”
Immediately, an image of Brooke doing just that jumped into my head. The wine loosened my tongue. “Oh. Will you be joining in?”
“That depends.”
“On…what exactly?”
Her voiced dropped even lower, husky almost. “On whether anyone asks me to, and then cheers me on.”
“I—” That single syllable stuck in my throat. I swallowed, and the rest of my words came out a hoarse whisper. “Might just do that.”
Heat flared in Brooke’s eyes. “Mmm. On second thought, maybe we really should go before things get dangerous.”
Things already felt dangerous. The only safe thing to do was to nod my agreement that yes, we should go.
The drive back to my place was quiet. Being quiet let me think. And think I did. At a million miles a minute. The moment in the bar was just one of many moments that were all coalescing to point to one thing. Brooke parked, and left the car running while I collected my things. “Did you want to come up for an early dinner? You must be starving.”
She hesitated for just a moment. “Sounds good.”
Riding the elevator, I was all too aware of how close she was again and the sensation made me both nervous and excited. “So what’s next? Will you play another sport until Ultimate season starts up again?”
Brooke turned slightly to face me. “Mhmm. We’ll have to go indoors for winter, so probably volleyball or something like that. Why? You looking for a full-time cheerleading gig?”
I started laughing. “You want more of my Brooke, Brooke! She’s so great your goose is cooked! rhyme? Actually, it doesn’t even rhyme.”
I barely heard her quick, quiet admission over the ding of the elevator. “God, you have the best laugh.” But I couldn’t say anything in response, because not only was I too stunned, but because she followed up with, “Yeah, I do. And all of your other rhymes.”
I didn’t know how to react, too stuck on what I thought I’d heard her say about my laugh and wondering if I should make a move. Nice ego, Jana. Just because she seems to enjoy your company and is a lesbian doesn’t mean she wants anything more than friendship. Just because you’re suddenly deciding that you’re not entirely at the straight end of the spectrum doesn’t mean you should be jumping on her. “Well all right then. You’ve got yourself a staff cheerleader. Come on in and let’s figure out what we want to eat.”
Brooke leaned against the counter while I fussed around the kitchen. Leaning into my walk-in pantry, I offered, “I could probably rustle up something or do you want to just order in?” As I stepped back, I found her right in my personal space.
“I’d do pretty much anything for your pasta right now.” Brooke studied me, her eyebrows drawn slightly together. “Here, you’ve got a little bit of…” Slowly, carefully, she pulled something from the edge of my mouth, then held it up between her thumb and forefinger so I could examine it. “Just a piece of fluff.”
“Thanks,” I whispered.
She opened her fingers, letting the lint flutter to the ground. Her eyes lingered on my lips before her gaze slowly came back to meet mine. “You’re welcome.”
I took a half step backward, away from her enticing heat, the soft caress of her fingers and the inviting part of her lips. My only options were step away, or kiss her, and though I knew I wanted the second option more I still didn’t think springing it on her was a good move.
She didn’t chase. “You okay?”
“Mhmm, perfectly.” I stepped sideways this time, all too aware of her and how much I wanted to step forward and press against her, instead of back away. “Just uh, you know…um, this.” I gestured awkwardly between us, hoping that would encompass what I wasn’t sure how to say.
“Ohh.” Brooke’s expression changed to one of pondering, then to one of mild panic. She let out a long breath, mumbled something I didn’t quite catch but sounded like self-admonishment. All her words came out in a panicked rush. “Sorry. Jana, look, I really enjoy this friendship or whatever
it is that we’ve got. I don’t want to jeopardize that just because I’m an idiot who’s apparently forgotten her manners. I’m really sorry, I promise I’ll tone it down. It’s just…” She shrugged helplessly. “You’re so easy to be around.”
The mini-Jana in my head was grabbing her, shaking her and telling her that I didn’t want her to tone it down, that I was interested in it, that I liked it. I wanted to tell her that whatever was happening between us, even if it was more my thing than hers, made me excited, but so afraid of all the possibilities. This was my chance to throw it all on the table, and I blew it. The only thing that came out of my mouth was a soft, “Brooke, it’s okay, really. I’m—”
Smiling, she shook her head, cutting me off. “Look, uh, I might head home and just grab something there. I really should eat a salad or something. Thanks for coming along today, it was really great having you there.” All the words blended together in a nervous rush as she backed slowly away.
“I…uh, sure. If that’s what you want. And it was my pleasure,” I said dumbly. Jana, you idiot! You’re shoving opportunity out the door. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make myself be brave enough to stop her. To tell her some of what I felt. As I walked her to my front door, I felt uneasy, my want warring with my confusion.
Brooke shrugged into her linen hoodie. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Mhmm. Drive carefully.”
She favored me with her easy smile. “Always more carefully than you.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
She leaned in, seemed to think the better of it, then raised her hand in a tentative wave. Then she was gone. I turned and leaned my back against the closed door. That went well. Good job. She practically handed you an opportunity on a platter and you were too afraid to take it.
From the moment I first discovered my hormones, I’d never had any sort of real romantic or lusty thoughts about a woman. Until Brooke. Until the kissing dream. Actually, maybe even a little before that if I was being completely honest. Of course I admired attractive women, enjoyed looking at them the way someone appreciates beautiful things, but I had never ever felt this stomach-tingling arousal before.