by Elia Winters
“How are you doing being trapped here with me?” Scarlett asked from behind her laptop, where she’d settled with some vague words about “work to do” an hour earlier.
Megan, for her part, had been unsuccessfully trying to read an ebook. “I can’t focus. But it’s not about you,” she added quickly. “I keep thinking about the wedding.” That was a lie; she kept thinking about the way Scarlett’s long hair felt in her hands and the way Scarlett’s lips felt on her skin. She kept her gaze turned away lest Scarlett see right through her. On the coffee table, her candle burned above its pool of melted wax. Direction and clarity. The only place she was being directed was into bed with Scarlett. Last night had been intense, and even though it was just sex, just some getting off between friends, Megan still couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“I hope it all turns out okay. We should be fine to drive out tomorrow night. The storm is supposed to stop by afternoon.” Scarlett bit her lip, pressing that plump flesh with her teeth, and Megan wanted to lick that spot. It took her a moment to realize Scarlett was still talking. “—early in the morning,” she finished.
Megan asked her to repeat herself, trying not to let on what she’d actually been thinking about.
“I said, worst-case scenario, we leave early Saturday morning. It’s only a few hours, and the wedding’s not until Saturday evening. We can do it if we have to.” Scarlett typed something into the computer, nodded, and then closed the laptop screen. “I’ve been messaging with Juliet. She knows we’re delayed and said she’s sure we’ll make it in time.”
“I’m glad.”
“You don’t sound convinced.” Scarlett set the laptop aside on the coffee table next to their completed puzzle.
Megan wasn’t about to tell her that the reason she didn’t sound convinced was because she was still distracted at the thought of climbing into that bed. “Just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
“You tired?”
“I think I’ll probably go to bed, yeah.” Megan couldn’t look at Scarlett. If Scarlett saw her eyes, she would know what Megan wanted. She’d see right through her.
“I won’t be too long. Save room for me.”
“Yup.” Without making eye contact, Megan got up and hurried to get ready for bed. She paused only to blow out the candle.
The gods were not smiling down on her, because despite her desire to be asleep by the time Scarlett came to bed, she was still wide awake.
“You asleep?” Scarlett whispered, the bed dipping down behind Megan as she slid beneath the covers.
She could feign sleep. “No,” she said instead.
“I was thinking. Last night was pretty intense for me.” Scarlett’s voice trembled a little as she spoke.
Hearing Scarlett admit it, just come right out and say the thing Megan had been thinking, made Megan freeze up. She didn’t want to interrupt, and held her breath.
“It isn’t normally like that for me,” Scarlett finished. She sounded honest, and vulnerable, and needy, and Megan had to roll over and face her.
Suddenly they were only inches apart. In the darkness, Megan didn’t feel as afraid about making eye contact anymore, and a gleam from the window caught Scarlett’s gaze. “Me neither,” Megan finally said. And then, because Scarlett was right there, because her lips glistened wetly in the low light, and because Megan apparently had no self control, she leaned over and kissed Scarlett again.
Megan wasn’t expecting Scarlett to laugh against her mouth. The sound rumbled through her, tickling her lips, and Scarlett’s mouth twitched upward. “Are we doing this again?” Scarlett murmured.
“Do you want to?”
Scarlett kissed her back. “It’s a bad idea.”
Her smile was infectious, and Megan returned it. “Then stop kissing me.”
Another kiss. “I don’t want to.”
Megan chuckled. “But it’s a bad idea.”
“Yeah.” Scarlett slid her hand into Megan’s hair, fingernails scratching over the scalp. “I’m full of bad ideas.”
Those bad ideas had Megan flat on her back in minutes, naked and moaning as Scarlett teased her open with long, deft fingers. When Megan was dripping wet and going out of her mind, Scarlett brushed the dildo against her, gentle pressure without ever quite pushing inside. Lying alongside Megan like this, cock in hand, Scarlett seemed content to take her sweet time and watch Megan’s reactions. “You want more?” Scarlett murmured, her lips tickling Megan’s ear as Megan swore and arched her hips up. “Tell me you want more.”
Megan nodded, throat tight, twitching at each brush of her clit. “Please,” she breathed, and then moaned in relief as Scarlett worked the length inside and then began to gently thrust.
“Look at you.” Scarlett brushed the hair off Megan’s forehead, staring down at her, giving Megan nowhere to escape as she began to rub the heel of her hand across Megan’s clit with each thrust. Megan wanted to look away; she was too vulnerable, too exposed, her desire leaving her open, and she closed her eyes as the pressure built inside her.
Then, Scarlett stopped. Megan’s eyes flashed open and she saw Scarlett grinning, enjoying every moment of this.
“Fuck, Scarlett, don’t stop!” She thrust her hips up, the climax slipping away. “What the fuck?”
Scarlett laughed, pressing a kiss onto Megan’s neck. “I just like seeing your face.”
Megan threw an arm over her head, laughing despite her sudden frustration, that laugh quickly turning to a gasp as Scarlett began to steadily fuck her with the toy again. Scarlett was a complete tease, and wonderful, and Megan was going to fall apart in moments.
“Don’t worry.” Scarlett kissed her on the sensitive spot just below her ear and started to fuck her again, rubbing against her clit with each perfect thrust. “I’ll never leave you hanging.”
Megan groaned again as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak and then took her over the edge.
Megan was so fucked.
* * *
Scarlett was so fucked. If Megan wasn’t so amazing in bed, she could blow this off as a simple dalliance. But now, body weak after coming three times, hard, she stared up at the peaked roof of the cabin and counted how fucked she was. She’d known it was a terrible idea to sleep together again, but Megan had been right there, eager, willing, so soft and sweet, and the next thing she knew, she was coming for a final time with her legs draped over Megan’s shoulders.
There was no good way back from this.
This was not going to get rid of her crush at all. And she was still calling it a crush, even though she knew the truth as surely as she knew anything; she was in love with Megan. She was in love with Megan the way she fell in love with so many others—entirely, consumingly, completely, and yet also with the deep knowledge that unlike everyone else, she knew Megan. She’d known her for her entire childhood, and after the hiatus in between, had grown even closer to her during this trip. She couldn’t move on from Megan the way she might move on from another failed relationship.
Best not to let this become a relationship at all. At least then, she could prevent this heartbreak from getting any worse.
Right?
Megan had been clear with her feelings on sex, and how she didn’t need it to mean anything. Scarlett had had plenty of dalliances with those same parameters. This could have been fine, but no; she had to go and fall in love with Megan. Like always.
Megan was already dozing off next to her, sex toys forgotten on the floor to be cleaned in the morning, and Scarlett couldn’t imagine falling asleep anytime soon. She waited until the breathing next to her evened out, until Megan seemed to be completely asleep, and then carefully extricated herself from the bed and pulled her pajamas back on.
The night seemed less dark with the snow outside. Every bit of light from cabin windows was reflected and enhanced by the sparkling white depths covering e
very available surface. It was still snowing, burying the last traces of furniture in the yard, the footpaths vanishing. While the hotel grounds crew had come through in the morning with the snowblowers to clear those walkways, the snow slowly reclaimed them, until all the defining lines were blurred.
Scarlett wrapped a blanket around herself and sat on a chair facing out the windows. That was her life right now, wasn’t it? Defining lines were blurred. Here on this road trip, they were in a liminal space, a period of transition where they could make their own rules and live out of each other’s pockets. But in another week or two, they’d be back to Florida—separate homes, separate lives, separate ambitions. Megan would find some new project and commit fully to it, and Scarlett would continue stringing together temp jobs, their lives orbiting similar stars but never crossing.
Sleeping with Megan was a bad idea, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. This was some of the best sex she’d ever had, sure, but she’d also had the privilege of watching Megan Harris lose her composed exterior and fall apart beneath Scarlett’s hands and lips. And it wasn’t just sex, either. Megan had opened up in other ways—her dreams, her fears, the ways she’d held herself back. Megan wasn’t going to be the same person after this trip.
Maybe Scarlett didn’t have to be, either.
“You okay?”
Megan’s voice behind Scarlett made her jump. She hadn’t heard her come downstairs, and now she stood behind Scarlett’s chair, visible in the reflection on the windows. Scarlett met her gaze in that reflection. “I keep thinking about after all this is done,” Scarlett said.
“The snow?”
“The trip.”
“Oh.” Megan came around to the side of her chair. “I’m trying not to think about it.”
That kind of denial would make it easier for Scarlett to sleep. She tried to smile. “Probably for the best.”
“You think we shouldn’t have slept together?” Megan asked, in her characteristic Megan bluntness.
Scarlett rubbed a hand over her face. It was way too middle-of-the-night for them to be having this discussion. “I don’t know. Probably.”
“Maybe we should stop. Take a few steps back.” Megan shrugged, like it was a casual decision to make, on par with choosing a fast-food place for drive-thru lunch.
If she could offer it up that casually, then she wasn’t nearly as affected by this as Scarlett was. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”
“You want me to sleep on the couch tonight?” Megan asked.
Scarlett shook her head. “Nah. It’s fine. The couch sucks.”
“Come on back to bed.”
Megan held out her hand. If only she were making that offer under different circumstances. If only she wanted the same things as Scarlett, things she’d always wanted but could never have.
She took Megan’s hand and let herself be led back upstairs.
Chapter Fifteen
Scarlett was acting weird. She’d been acting weird since the previous night, when Megan had found her sitting in front of the windows after sex looking forlornly into the snow. They’d had a leisurely morning together waiting for the storm to stop, but Scarlett had been more withdrawn than ever. Megan had thought it was about being stuck in the cabin and worried about the wedding, but it was probably something more. If she hadn’t known better, she’d assume Scarlett was upset about not sleeping together anymore. But Megan had been upfront the whole time about this just being fun and not having to mean anything else. It wasn’t Megan’s fault if Scarlett...what? Misinterpreted? Wanted something more? No matter what it was, a weird undercurrent of guilt settled on Megan’s shoulders. She hadn’t promised Scarlett anything, though. She shouldn’t feel guilty.
Scarlett’s funk persisted, even after they’d had lunch, even after the snow stopped and they got the car dug out. Now, with the two of them back on the road at dusk and a timeline of a late evening arrival in Quebec, Megan had hoped Scarlett would snap out of whatever blues she seemed to be wallowing in. Instead, she stared out the window and didn’t even sing along to the songs on one of Megan’s CDs.
“You got your passport?” Megan asked at last, interrupting a long stretch of painful silence.
“What?” Scarlett jolted out of what must have been a daydream.
“Your passport. We’re near the border.” Megan gestured to a sign indicating that they were going to be crossing into Canada very soon.
“Oh. Right.” Scarlett dug her bag out of the backseat and began rifling through it. “It’s right here.”
“Good. Hate to get stranded at the border.” Megan forced a smile. “Unless it would shake you out of whatever’s gotten into you today.”
Scarlett thumbed through her passport. “It’s weird to be almost there.”
“I know.” Megan was feeling a mixture of excitement and sadness. Whatever world they’d created together, it was coming to an end soon.
Not that soon, though. “But,” Megan added, “we do have the whole drive home.”
“That’s true.” Scarlett smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes, but it was at least a smile. “And we’re going to the wedding. I do love weddings.”
“See, that’s the spirit. Cheer up.” Megan reached across the console and gave her a playful shove.
“I could always tell border patrol that you’ve kidnapped me.”
Megan’s smile vanished. “Don’t you dare.”
That, at least, made Scarlett laugh. “Don’t worry. Somebody’s gotta drive me the rest of the way to Quebec.”
Their border crossing was uneventful, and as soon as they passed into Canada, Scarlett made them stop immediately on the other side. “You need a picture with the sign!” she announced, and Megan dutifully posed in front of the “Welcome to Canada” sign for Scarlett to fumble with the instant camera and get the shot for her scrapbook. They set the picture on the dashboard to finish developing and drove on.
Megan did the entire last stretch of the drive, since she probably owed it to Scarlett after Scarlett’s terrible snowstorm drive. When Old Quebec came into view, lit against the dark sky, Megan’s throat closed up with emotion. They were here. After all this driving, they were here.
The Château Frontenac was the most obvious landmark, but they still needed the GPS to guide them through a maze of narrow one-way streets and steep, winding hills to the parking garage. Then, it was a flurry of gathering their stuff, shoving loose snacks into bags, unloading, and then apologizing in broken French at the front desk while the immensely patient clerk found their room reservation information. Finally, at just past nine thirty, they unlocked the door to their hotel room.
“Wow.” Scarlett tossed her stuff onto the bed and immediately went to the windows, which gave a breathtaking view of the St. Lawrence River. Megan joined her. The riverbanks heaved with icy mountains on both sides. In the center, a tiny ribbon of moving water cut through the vast swaths of ice to wend its way downstream.
“It’s beautiful.” Megan’s voice sounded too loud in the stillness, even though she was whispering. The city was illuminated beneath them, spread out like a tapestry of tiny lights. A cathedral came to mind. This view felt holy.
And somehow, having Scarlett by her side felt like the most perfect way to witness it. Scarlett didn’t crack a joke about her sentimentality, or say it was only a city. Scarlett’s gaze was soft, her lips turned up in a tiny smile of wonder.
“I can’t believe we’re really here.” Scarlett turned to her, and for a moment, her gaze flicked to Megan’s lips at the same time Megan wanted to kiss her. Instead, Megan took a step back on shaky legs, and Scarlett turned away. “Maybe it’s all the time in the car,” Scarlett said, “but this is all making me really emotional.” She laughed, and that laugh came out as unsteady as Megan felt.
“Yeah.” Megan was relieved that her voice didn’t tremble. “Me, too.”
Megan had nearly forgotten. “Thanks.”
“What happens if you forget a day?”
Megan hadn’t asked. It wasn’t like her to forget anything she set her mind to. This was just another example of how distracted she’d been. “Maybe it doesn’t work.”
As Megan lit the candle, Scarlett’s gaze followed her motions. She hadn’t yet asked Megan what it was for, although Megan kept waiting for the question. It didn’t come.
“I should probably put it somewhere where it won’t set off any alarms, right?” Megan didn’t want to burn down the hotel, or trigger a sprinkler system.
“You should be fine, as long as you don’t leave it burning.” Scarlett turned away and continued unpacking. Megan did the same, and when the candle’s top layer had fully melted into a pool of wax, she blew it out for the night. She didn’t feel any closer to direction or clarity since she first burned the candle a few nights ago. In fact, she felt more confused; her feelings toward Scarlett were a jumble, and she didn’t like jumbles. She liked order.
Megan had only spent two nights sharing a bed with Scarlett, but her bed already felt empty as she slid beneath the sheets that night. Would it be wrong to ask if Scarlett wanted to share again? She put the thought aside before she’d even fully formed it. They’d agreed to stop fooling around together. Sharing a bed would probably lead to more, if the last few nights was any indication. Space was good.