“That’s fantastic. Babe, would you get me a drink?” she said to Jesse before turning to her friends. “You guys want something?”
“I’ll take a beer,” Meg said.
“Why not?” Sam echoed. “I can walk to the bar with you, Jess.”
“No, stay,” Lexi implored. “I want to hear about your trip. Did you just get back? Where’s Lucy?” she asked looking around.
Sam laughed at the barrage of questions. “Settle down, Munchkin.” She placed her hands on Lexi’s shoulders. “Breathe,” she ordered. “Everything okay with you?”
“Yeah, Lex. What’s up?” Meg reorganized the table for the third time. “First you’re late and now you’re frazzled as fuck. What’s going on?”
“I’m fine.” She looked between Meg and Sam and must have read concern on their faces because she squared her shoulders and took a dramatically deep breath. “Seriously.” She checked a look at the bar. “Jess and I were talking and I just lost track of time.”
Meg rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, you were totally having sex.”
“I wasn’t,” she answered, but her deep red blush said it all.
“Here Sam and I are holding down the fort at a Friday night social while our married friend is getting action. What’s wrong with that picture?” Meg looked to Sam for support but corrected herself on the spot. “I don’t know why I’m looking to you for help—your girlfriend will be here imminently. I’m the only sad sack in this crowd.”
“No one feels bad for you, Meg.” Lexi brushed her off good-naturedly, waving her arm at the building crowd. “Lesbian Shangri-la. Go, mingle.” She faced Sam. “Where is Lucy? I thought you said she was coming.”
“She’s supposed to meet me here.” Sam looked at her watch and swallowed her jitters. Nine fifteen. Too late for the shop to still be open. Lucy had suggested meeting up at the social, so she could put in some extra time at the store and grab a shower beforehand. Sam had agreed, primarily because she thought if they met at Lucy’s first, it was unlikely they’d leave at all. Her body had been counting down the days since she’d been stuck in Connecticut. It would take a lot to keep her libido in check. This social was important to her friends and she wanted to support them. The minutes rolled by and still no Lucy.
“I’m actually going to give her a call,” she said, taking her drink from Jesse and thanking her with a nod of her chin before she stepped out onto the balcony. She hoped she sounded chill, even though she could feel the tension spreading through her limbs.
The phone rang four times before going to voicemail. She paced the outdoor space back and forth, checking her phone, for what, she wasn’t sure. Finally, a text popped up.
Got tied up at the store. I’m pretty beat. Rain check on the social?
You’re not coming?
I’m tired. My day starts early tomorrow.
Sam started typing, but then erased her message. Two more false starts while she attempted to voice her feelings and keep her cool. Another message from Lucy came through while she hesitated.
Please don’t be mad. I still want to see you. A second passed. Come by later?
You’ll be asleep. Early day and all… She wondered if her sharp sarcasm translated or if Lucy read the message as sincere.
I’ll wait for you. Or if it’s real late, I can leave the door open.
Sam tried to be mature for a second. Luce, I know you have work in the morning. I only get you for a few hours, please come and hang out with me.
Just come here after.
Sam rolled her neck in frustration. Please. For me? She hated that she was reduced to begging.
There was a long pause. Sam hoped it meant that Lucy was checking herself out in the mirror, internally debating whether she should change or if she looked presentable.
I can’t, Sam. I’m sorry.
Why not?
I just can’t. Have fun with your friends. We’ll talk tomorrow.
She wanted to throw her phone off the balcony. She wanted to scream in aggravation. What the fuck? She looked at her beer but had no desire to drink it. Through the tinted glass façade she watched Lexi and Meg working away. They’d be busy the whole night. What difference did it make if she stayed? She wouldn’t relax anyway.
She walked to the end of the corridor, tossed her bottle in with the recyclables, and slipped down the back stairs taking long strides as she made her way through the path to the rental section until she was knocking heavily on Lucy’s door.
Lucy held it open wide, not appearing the least bit surprised to see Sam on her step, but she was already on the defensive. “You didn’t have to come.”
“I kind of did.”
“Sam, I don’t want to fight. Go back. Hang out with your friends. We can do this tomorrow.”
“Why are you trying to push me away right now?” Sam stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Did something happen while I was gone?” The thought hadn’t even occurred to her until this moment and she froze waiting for Lucy’s response.
Lucy shook her head. “Of course not.” She looked offended at Sam’s inference. “You were only gone three days.”
“I don’t know, Luce.” Sam shrugged. “Something’s different.”
Lucy grabbed the sleeve of her hoodie. “Come in here.” She pulled her into the vestibule and stood on tiptoe to kiss her gently. “There’s no one else.” She found her lips again and Sam couldn’t resist—she removed her hands from her pockets and held Lucy’s waist, bringing them closer. Lucy touched Sam’s face gently. Her voice was soft. “I missed you.”
“Why wouldn’t you come see me then?”
Above them a timer dinged loudly from behind Lucy’s apartment door. She frowned slightly. “I have stuff in the oven.”
“Of course you do,” Sam said.
“Come.” Lucy took Sam’s hand and guided her up the stairs.
Inside it smelled like a full-fledged bakery, the countertops lined with trays of cookies and muffins. Lucy bent over to remove a tray from the low rack in the oven, and Sam’s pulse quickened at the sight of her slim waist and firm bottom on display. Even in pajama pants, Lucy’s tight body got her going. As much as she wanted to inch up behind her and slide her hands under her worn tee and dispense with talking altogether, she could sense this was a conversation they needed to have.
Sam leaned back on the counter and watched Lucy set a fresh batch of scones on the stove top.
“Tell me what happened tonight.”
Lucy kept her eyes on the tray, using a thin silicone mitt to inch it forward ever so slightly. She opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped. Sam watched her bite her lower lip, tilting her head back and letting out a long slow breath. She kept her eyes on the backsplash. “I panicked.”
“Panicked over what?” Lucy turned around and her face held genuine anguish. It completely melted Sam. “Babe, it’s okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“You’ll think I’m crazy.” She lifted a spatula and hovered over the scones. “Maybe I am.”
“Lucy, just talk to me. I think you already know how I feel about you.” She waited for her to look over. “You stood me up. There has to be a reason. I want to know what it is.”
“I don’t really go to the socials,” she started.
“I know. The girls told me.” Sam unzipped her hoodie and hung it off the pantry doorknob. “Do you not like those guys?” It didn’t seem likely, but she figured she should at least ask.
Lucy snickered at the suggestion. “Of course I like them. They’re my friends. It’s not that.”
They were both quiet for a moment.
“It’s the drinking, right?” Sam asked, voicing a fear she’d had for a while.
“It’s not like you think, Sam.”
She had been worried about this. It was stupid maybe, but she couldn’t fathom how they could reasonably date and socialize with her friends—their friends—and never be around alcohol. Not that she needed to party all the time, but so much of h
er social life and her friends’ social lives involved drinking of some sort that she almost couldn’t imagine a life without it. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to.
Lucy must have read the stress on her face. “See, I can tell you’re freaking out right now. Don’t.” She turned back to her scones. “I don’t really have a hard time being around it. The drinking, I mean.” She started moving her pastries to the cooling rack as she spoke. “There’s just never been any reason for me to go to a social. They start late. My hours are always early, so I usually just don’t go.” She looked back at Sam. “Sometimes I feel like I’m missing out but”—she gave a small shrug—“it’s a price worth paying to keep my business and my sobriety.” She placed the tray in the sink. “It’s not a terrible sacrifice. I get to see everyone in the coffee shop.”
“But we made plans to meet up there tonight. And we hadn’t seen each other in days. If it’s not about the drinking, I don’t get what happened.” She gripped her keys in her front pocket.
“This thing about not going to the socials, there’s no reason. I’m not against them. And the other day, when I suggested it to you, I thought it would be fine. Believe me, my whole family drinks, it’s not a temptation for me. But tonight…was different.”
“Why?”
“Because Sam, it just was.”
It didn’t make sense. “There’s a piece missing.” She rubbed her hands on her jeans as she considered the possibilities but came up with nothing. “What is it you’re not telling me?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“Just talk to me. You can tell me anything. You know that.”
Lucy looked up and took a deep breath. Sam thought she was going to unload something heavy, so she planted herself firmly on a stool. She hoped Lucy took the gesture as a sign that she wasn’t going anywhere no matter what she was about to reveal.
Finally Lucy turned around to face her. She crossed her arms and leaned against the stove.
“I told you before I drank a lot, too much. I don’t know, maybe I had a problem.” She was clearly uncomfortable with the topic and her focus drifted across the room as she spoke. “But after everything that happened with the police department, the shooting incident and leaving, I stopped. Completely. I changed my whole life. I started over.” She rested the base of her heel against her calf, balancing on one foot. “It’s been great. I have no regrets. Truly.” She reached for a towel and twisted it in her hands. “I have the store. I live here. I met you.” She looked right at Sam, her gray eyes full of emotion. “You are wonderful and sweet and sexy and God I want to be with you.”
“But?”
“That’s just it. There’s no but.” She uncrossed her arms and fiddled with the drawstring on her loose PJ’s, wrapping it around her index finger. “I just got scared about tonight.”
“But, Luce, it’s me.”
“I know Sam. Believe me, I know.” She widened her eyes for emphasis, even as she broke eye contact. “Before you left for Connecticut, we were at a certain point. You know what I mean.” She put both feet on the ground but still wouldn’t look Sam in the eye. “I think we both know that things were moving to the next level, so to speak.”
Sam almost interrupted her, but Lucy wasn’t done.
“I got nervous for tonight. Self-conscious about being with you. And then, the more I thought about it, I got incredibly nervous about going to the social, being around the alcohol.” She frowned. “That’s not happened to me”—she shook her head slowly from side to side—“ever. It freaked me out in a way that I can’t even explain.”
“You could have told me that. We would have changed the plan.”
“Tonight was important to Meg and Lexi. I know you wanted to go. I didn’t want to ruin that for you.” She held her hair back with both hands looking desperate in her frustration. “Clearly I’ve failed there too.”
“Stop, it’s fine. There’ll be other socials.” She pitched forward a little in her seat. “I am more concerned about me and you.” Across the small space, she took Lucy’s hand in her own. “Do not be nervous about us.” She tugged at her, gently inching her forward, but Lucy resisted. “We don’t have to do anything. Honestly.” She looked right in Lucy’s eyes as she laced their fingers together and pulled Lucy toward her. “I just want to be with you. We can watch a movie, cuddle on the couch or even in bed like we did the other night. That was nice. Believe me.” She pressed her lips to Lucy’s forehead and held her tightly. “We will wait until you are sure and comfortable and relaxed.”
With her elbows resting on Sam’s shoulders, Lucy ran her fingers through Sam’s lustrous hair. “Why are you so good to me?”
“Because I like you. Like, a lot.”
Lucy buried her face in Sam’s shoulder and let out a pitiful moan. “Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“I haven’t had sex with anyone in three years.” Lucy’s voice sounded clearly distressed even though it was muffled in Sam’s shirt.
It wasn’t what she’d expected to hear but Sam took it in stride. “That’s okay.”
“There’s more.” Lucy didn’t wait for Sam to comment. “It’s been way longer than that if we’re talking sober. I couldn’t even tell you when that was.” Lucy sounded like she might lose courage altogether.
“It’s okay.”
“Is it?”
Sam pressed her lips to Lucy’s, putting a hand at the back of her neck and holding her in place. The kiss was more sweet than sexy, but she wanted Lucy to feel how much she meant it. “Yes.”
Lucy touched their foreheads together. “The irony is the other night, before my sister did her surprise pop in, I was fine, I was…ready.” She looked shy to admit it. “But then you went away and I had three days to totally overthink everything.” She moved her head from side to side. “And then, tonight, the social, complete meltdown.”
Sam grinned. “So you stayed home and baked a thousand cookies.”
“And scones,” she added optimistically.
“On the upside, it smells amazing in here,” Sam said through a thin smile. “So what happens now?” She turned Lucy in her arms, cradling her from behind, so they were both facing the stove and the mountain of baked goods. “Do we wrap all this goodness up and watch some TV?”
“We definitely pack this stuff up.” She brought Sam’s hand to her mouth and brushed her knuckles with her lips as she spoke. “Will you stay here tonight?”
“Yes.” Sam pushed off the chair. “I want to get my bag out of my truck. I need my toothbrush and everything.”
“You do that and I’ll clean up here. Then bed?” she said with a question in her voice. “We can talk. I missed you.” She kissed the back of Sam’s hand a few times. “I want to hear about your trip. Would that be okay?”
“Perfect.”
*****
When Sam came out of the bathroom, Lucy was already in bed, the blanket resting on her belly, a lacy bra the only clothing she could see, although she felt confident there were panties too, the same routine as last time. Jesus, this was not going to be easy. She almost made a quippy remark, but in light of their talk, she held it in. She crossed the room to the window, dropping her bag on a chair that she didn’t remember from the last time she’d been in Lucy’s bedroom. She undid the top few buttons of her shirt before pulling it over her head.
“Is this chair new?” she asked, her belt buckle clanking loudly as she folded her jeans without removing it from the loops.
“It is, actually. I’m glad you noticed it.” Lucy turned on her side and watched Sam stuff her socks into her chukka boots. “My sister was cleaning house this week while her wife was away. She was going to throw it out, but I took it instead.” She rubbed the mattress as she spoke. “I put it in that corner so you could sit there and stare at the moon when you’re here.”
“Are you serious?”
She patted the spot next to her on the bed. “Yes.”
“That is so nice.”
Lucy shr
ugged and smiled at the same time. “I like you a little bit.” She added a wink. “Do you draw a lot?”
Sam climbed in next to her. “Sometimes when I’m coming up with ideas. On little slips of paper, the back of an envelope, or whatever I can find. Like that time you saw me in the store. Not like on a canvas or anything.” She took off her watch and placed it next to her phone on the small night table. “I would never attempt a portrait or anything, so don’t get your hopes up,” she said, turning back to face Lucy. She looked at Lucy’s body and shook her head slowly. “Why am I telling you this, when I have you nearly naked in front of me?” She blinked slowly. “Scratch that. I totally draw, but I need practice on my nudes. You’ll sit for me?”
Lucy rolled her eyes as she smiled. “You’re such a brat.”
“You love it.”
“Come here and kiss me already.”
Sam followed the instructions precisely, but after a second she pulled away and sat upright. “Sorry, I don’t know how I forgot to take this off before. Something to do with the gorgeous half-naked woman two feet from me,” she said, expertly removing her sports bra without taking off her undershirt, slipping it through the sleeve and tossing it onto the floor.
Lucy was clearly impressed at her deftness. “That looked like a practiced move.”
Sam cozied into her pillow. “I may have done it once or twice before.”
“I bet.”
“I wish I could give you a great story there, but honestly it’s mostly a learned move from high school. I was always getting changed somewhere before or after school or practice, in the locker room or my parents’ car.” She ran her hands through her hair. “Really unsexy stuff.”
“What sports did you play?” Lucy rested her hand on Sam’s stomach, but over her shirt. It got her revved up anyway.
“Softball and basketball.”
Lucy dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “Positions?”
“Basketball, I was a forward but I hardly played.” She touched the ends of Lucy’s soft hair, feeling it flow through her fingers. “My team was very good. I was only so-so.” She brought Lucy’s hand to her mouth to kiss it once before she returned it to its spot on her abdomen. “Softball, I could do anything really, but I always ended up at first, because, you know, left-handed.” She waved for emphasis.
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