The Girlfriend's Secret

by Kyle Autumn

  ***

  Zo

  She feels so right pressed up against me. Her lips are like heaven on mine. Being with her is everything I hoped it would be and more. But I can feel her hesitation. Her reluctance to give herself to me for the night. I just need this one night so I can have a taste of this. So I’ll know for sure exactly what I’ll be missing out on for the rest of my life.

  It’s crazy. I know that. Why torture myself by capturing these memories to keep forever? Why tempt myself with one hit and risk becoming an addict? The short answer is that I’ve never, ever let myself before. And, now, I have to. I have this inexplicable pull toward her. And I can’t control it now that I know how she feels about me. I want this one night where I can let go, not worry about a thing, and be me. We can be Patti and Zed the way we were always meant to be for this one night.

  And then—no. I’m not thinking about tomorrow. Only about tonight. That’s it.

  I let her take the lead. I have no clue what to do with a woman, though I won’t say I’m any better with a man. Sexual encounters haven’t been high on my list when the one person I’ve wanted them with lately was off-limits. I’ve heard her stories though. Best friends tell each other that kind of stuff, so I know exactly what she’s capable of. And I want it all.

  She starts to creep her hand under my scrub top, and her light, small hands are perfect on my bare skin. Her lips trail down my neck as she inches my shirt up until I lift my arms as a sign of permission to take my shirt off. Which we do. Then my hands go to the hem of hers, and I raise that up and over her head. Though I’ve seen her this way countless times—in a bra—I haven’t had the opportunity to freely admire how beautiful she is. Awkwardly stolen glances here and there—that’s been it. But, right now, I feast on the sight of her.

  Patti seems to do the same in return. Her gaze roams over my bra-covered chest and down my torso. All the way to my waist and my hips, where my scrub bottoms start. The heat of her stare begins to make me self-conscious, but I take a deep inhale and let her look. I want her to see me. All of me. So I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my bottoms, my panties included, and push them down, squirming on the bed as I go.

  When she realizes what I’m doing, she helps me. Her hands join mine in their mission, and once my clothes have been tossed aside, I unbutton her jeans. To get them all the way off, she stands up and shimmies them down her legs until she’s as bare as I am. I sit up on the bed and scoot to perch on the edge to get a better look at her. Head to toe, she’s gorgeous. And I knew she would be. Seeing it in real life though? Having her right in front of me and not just naked in my mind?

  “Hey,” she softly coos, reaching toward my face. She swipes a tear from my right eye with her thumb. “Come back to now, Zed. Stay with me.”

  I sniffle a little and nod, leaning in toward her touch. Adrenaline zips through me, and my thoughts race at a million miles an hour, but I shut it all down to be in the now with her. Cupping my cheek, she straddles me, so I scoot backwards to make room for her there. Then she cups my other cheek and kisses my lips. As her fingers slide into my hair, I bring my arms around her.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I admit against her mouth between kisses.

  “Whatever feels right,” she whispers. “Just do that. Anything you want.”

  After another deep, cleansing breath, I trail my hands up her sides and over to the clasp of her bra. As I unhook it, she does the same with mine. Straps fall down our shoulders, and we take turns removing the rest of the material. When our breasts are free, we return to each other and they brush from the nearness. Instantly, my nipples harden and a wetness forms between my legs. It’s a rather foreign feeling, considering I’ve never been this turned on with anyone I’ve ever been with. And I can tell I’m already addicted to the pleasure. All she has to do is look at me and I’m a puddle of desire for her.

  With that desire rolling through me, I chance reaching up and caressing her bare breasts. I’ve only ever touched my own, but hers feel just right in my hands. I sweep my thumbs over her stiff peaks, loving how hard they are for me. Goose bumps break out over her skin, which gives me the courage to bring one of her nipples to my mouth. Going with whatever feels right seems to be working, because she moans and grinds against me, gently tugging my hair to pull me closer.

  I suck lightly, swirling my tongue around her nipple as men have done to me. Then I release it and move over to the other one, giving it fair attention. Gripping her hips, I nuzzle between her breasts and breathe her in. This moment is so sweet, so perfect. I don’t ever want to lose it. And, suddenly, tears overtake me.

  She leans back and holds my face in her palms, watching me carefully. Once she’s placed a sweet, calming kiss on my lips, she rises, walks around the bed, and pulls the covers back. When she gets in, she points next to her. “Come on.”

  I’m already sitting on the bed, so I twist around and get under her comforter. She wraps an arm around my waist, positioning us so I’m the little spoon. Interlacing our fingers at my middle, she leans close to my ear.

  “Do you trust me?” she asks in a soft voice, squeezing me to her.

  “With my whole heart,” I respond immediately.

  Her warm breath caresses my ear. “Then let me make you feel good.”

  I’d do just about anything if she says it like that. That’s for sure. And it’s not a hardship to allow her to give me pleasure. So I let my tears air-dry and keep myself in the moment as she traces a path down my torso and between my legs with her fingers.

  There, she easily slips between my folds. When my legs jump, she knows she’s found the right spot. With the hand of the arm under me, she massages my breast and tweaks my nipple. Kissing the back of my neck and down my shoulder, she rubs my clit until, mere moments later, I relax and my thighs begin to quiver.

  Then, what seems like mere moments after that, as I writhe against her bare front, I climax on her finger, in her arms, and in her bed. I thought I was wet before; now, my orgasm drips down the front of my leg. I shudder through my release, warm and safe with her. The rush of it all washes over me soon after, and as she brings her hand back up to hold me tight against her, the intense joy of the moment is way too much. As it finally settles, I’m helplessly thrust into a deep, peaceful sleep.

  Chapter 5

  Patti

  That feeling when you wake up next to the person you love is glorious. That permagrin on your lips takes your whole face over when you roll over and pull them close to you. That deep sigh you release once you’re tightly snuggled together is one of pure joy. And that totally relaxed state washes over you, threatens to put you right back to sleep because you’re so content and happy.

  At least, that’s what I assume it’s like to wake up next to the person you love. Unfortunately, I have no idea. That hasn’t happened to me. This morning, I woke up alone, the bed cold like she hadn’t been there at all. I want to be frustrated and upset, but this made for no awkward goodbyes. There was no time for false promises or platitudes no one would keep.

  Instead, there was just loneliness. Sneaking out. A little pretending like we didn’t make out and see each other naked. Like I didn’t make her come with my fingers. But whatever.

  On my way to work, I stop for coffee. It’s the only thing that gets me through a boring day at the office. Especially on a Saturday. And I always stop at the same place, The Steam Room, because they know exactly how I like my coffee by now. I don’t have go through the instructions or do it myself, which sounds lazy, but I’m all about what makes my life easier.

  Kimber, the cute, blond barista here, definitely makes my life easier.

  “Morning,” she says cheerily, smiling as I approach the register. “I figured you’d be in soon.” She reaches across the counter and palms a to-go cup before lifting it in my direction.

  “You are a peach.” I give her a wide grin—well, as wide as I can for how emotionally run-down I feel. Then I lean against the counter, retrieving my
wallet from my purse. “What in the world would I do without you?”

  “Oh, show up to work late. Probably sleep through your workday. Get fired. End up homeless.” She winks at me as she takes ten-dollar bill. “I’m a lifesaver, really.”

  I take my change and my coffee and then stuff a few bucks in the tip jar. “Thank you for literally saving my entire life,” I tell her sweetly before turning around and taking a sip of my drink. So. Damn. Perfect.

  In the ecstasy of the moment, I close my eyes and then almost run right into someone. I manage to open my eyes just before we smash into each other. But I’m the only one trying to move out of the way. Zo is fixed to her spot, her feet stuck to the floor. And she’s staring me down, giving me a look that should have already struck me dead.

  “Good morning,” I say. It came out a little sharper than I’d intended, but so be it.

  I didn’t get to say it earlier. She left before I’d even opened my eyes, so I’m not exactly thrilled with her at the moment. And I’m not sure why she is the one who looks like I left her.

  With daggers shooting from her eyes, she crosses her arms over her chest. “It certainly seems like you’re having a good morning.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I spit back at her, utterly confused. “I’m not the one who crept out of my bedroom this morning before you—”

  She flies forward and covers my mouth with her hand. “Shh!”

  I steady my coffee so it doesn’t spill. Then I dodge her hand and head toward the door. “Thanks again, Kimber,” I call over my shoulder. “See you Monday!”

  I’m not sorry about not wanting to play her “now you have me, now you don’t” game. She wanted that one night; I gave it to her. But, now, I want to move forward and pick the crushed bits of my heart up. If she has no intention of giving me forever, then I have to get past this. I knew that it would come to that, and maybe I was in denial, a little delusional for even admitting it to her. Here we are though. I have choices to make, and not playing into her game is one.

  Kimber’s loud voice rings out through the coffee shop. “I’ll see you, Patti! Have a good day at work.”

  As I wave back at her and exit the shop, a man in a suit brushes past me. “Goddammit, Chaz. Answer me,” he grumbles to his phone.

  “Calm down, dude,” I mumble under my breath, but he’s so engrossed in his phone that he doesn’t hear me. Or he ignores me. Whatever.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down,” Zo seethes behind me in a whisper-shout. “And don’t call me dude!”

  “I wasn’t even talking to you,” I clarify, stalking toward my car.

  “Oh.” The sound of her footsteps stops. Then they pick up quickly. “Well, don’t walk away from me!”

  At that, I halt and spin around. “This is not me walking away from you. This is you walked away from me after I told you I love you and had you naked, in my bed, all night long.” I point a finger at her. “If you don’t want people to know you did that, you shouldn’t have done it. I’m not ashamed of having been with you.”

  Her eyes go wide and she gazes around the empty sidewalk to make sure no one else heard that. Then she looks at me again, hooking her thumb toward the coffee shop. “Is she next?”

  Now, my eyes mirror hers. “Excuse me?” I put my free hand on my hip.

  “You were clearly flirting with her in front of me,” she explains.

  I shake my head. “Nope. I’m not doing this with you.”

  “But you—”

  “No,” I say over her, still shaking my head. “Absolutely not. First of all, I didn’t even know you were there. Second, you heard what I said to you the other night and you acted on it. I was selfish and took the one night you were offering me, but that’s where this ends, isn’t it? I’ve put my heart through years of this shit, Zo. It has to stop.”

  I’m sure the use of her real name tells her exactly how serious I am. It certainly seems like it, seeing as her right eye builds a tear. But then her left one does too, and I realize I’ve hurt her. Which is the last thing in the world I wanted to do, but I react in kind too often. She hurt me, so I’ve ended up doing the same to her. I’ve been comforting her and fixing her hurt for half of our lives, so my gut reaction is to do that now. But I can’t.

  At some point, I have to start comforting myself and fixing my own hurt. Last night may have cost me my best friend, so I guess I’ll start with now.

  “See you around,” I tell her, lifting my coffee in her direction before taking off to my car.

  This workday is going to suck ass. This whole weekend might. Or, quite possibly, it could last the rest of my life. Fuck.

  ***

  Zo

  I shouldn’t have left. I know that. I knew it as I was doing it. But hell. If I hadn’t left, I would have stayed forever. And the only thing I could think about was losing my parents. The loss of two people is greater than the loss of one, even if that one person could bring me the most happiness I’ve ever known.

  Some might ask why I’d want people who wouldn’t unconditionally love me in my life. But they’re my parents. They gave me life. How shitty would it be to turn around and completely disappoint them? On the flip side of that coin, how shitty would it be to repress a huge part of me for the rest of my life? Honestly, I don’t know which one is worse right now.

  Except that maybe I do. As I watch Patti walk away from me, I feel my heart go with her. It beats right out of my chest and leaves a sad trail behind her feet as she goes. Because last night was over way too quickly, but it’s the most peace and joy I’ve felt in a long time. I’ve never been freer than I was with her. If I could bottle it up, I would. But I was born into the wrong family to ever have that with her permanently.

  And what did I do instead? I basically called her a slut and accused her of already “moving on” from something that never really was in the first place. She’s free to do as she wants. I’m just so messed up from all of this. And, normally, I’d go to my best friend for advice. Obviously, that’s not an option at the moment. I’ve royally fucked this all up.

  I went to The Steam Room to get my favorite breakfast—a lemon poppy seed muffin—but I’m not even close to hungry now. The hunger pains have morphed into knots of nausea. So I go home, call in sick to work, and hide under my covers, praying that all of this blows over and goes away on its own.

  Yeah, right. That’s wishful thinking at best. But it’s all I have right now.

  ~~~

  When Monday morning rolls around, I pick my cell phone up off my nightstand and pull up the contact for work. I’ve done nothing all weekend, and I’m actually starting to feel like I have the flu. Could just be the power of my thoughts, but I don’t want to get anyone else sick, either. Just before I hit the call button, though, my doorbell rings.

  I drag my sleepy, probably smell butt to the door, and a peek through the peephole has my heart racing like it’s being chased by zombies. But it a better way. I think.

  “Open the door, Zed. I know you’re right there. And you’re not calling in sick to work again.”

  I can’t decide what to do—run away and hide sounds good to my brain. My arm, however, decides for me when it reaches my hand out to swing the door open. It could have, at the very least, checked my hair. But, given that I’m in the clothes she saw me in on Saturday morning, my hair is probably the least of my worries. Good call, arm. Well played.

  “Oh, girl,” Patti says when she gets an eyeful of depressed me. She, on the other hand, looks as perfect as perfect can be. As always. Her makeup is on point. Her dark bob flows in gorgeous waves. And her clothes are the icing on the perfection cake.

  I just turn my back to her and let her follow me in. If she wants to be around an unshowered, messy slob like me, cool. But I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t, especially considering how awfully I treated her the other day.

  I drop onto my couch and snag the blanket from the back. The least I can do is cover myself up. And acknowledge the fact that I’ll fore
ver be a hot mess. This couch could accept me as its own and I’d be happier. Maybe. I don’t know.

  While I curl up on one side, she sits on the other. Then I notice the paper bag from The Steam Room in her hands. I want to cry from relief—sustenance has arrived! But…it’s from The Steam Room. Which means she likely saw—and flirted with—that barista again. Ugh! How do I turn my brain off?

  “Which is first: food or a shower?” Patti asks. “You clearly appear to be in desperate need of both.”

  “Food,” I mumble into the blanket. I can’t do much in the shower if I don’t have the necessary energy to clean myself.

  She opens the bag and digs inside. When her hand emerges, she has my favorite—a lemon poppy seed muffin. The same one I wanted Saturday morning but never got. I must have lived off those alone while I was working and going to dental school. And it’s just the thing I need right now.

  I gratefully—though hesitantly—accept it from her. As I carefully unwrap the muffin, I sneak a glance at her from the corner of my eye. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask her before I take a small bite of yummy muffin goodness.

  She sighs. It’s short but loud. Then she shrugs. “What are best friends for?”

  “Patti, I—”

  “We don’t have to go there, okay?” She sits back on the couch and peeks inside the paper bag. While pulling her croissant out, she says, “I just missed you, so forget about it.” Staring straight ahead, she bites into her bread.

  “That’s hardly even considered breakfast,” I mutter, giving her a hard time and taking the olive branch she’s extending me.

  We both smirk a little.

  Around a mouthful, she says, “It is most definitely considered breakfast in France.”

  I sweep an arm out around the room. “Does this place look like France to you?”

  She laughs, bringing a hand up to her mouth to avoid spitting her food out. “Well, no. Not in the least,” she says. Then she gets more serious. “But I don’t need to be in France to eat whatever I want for breakfast.”