Joan leaned over to give Linda a kiss. “Well, we aren’t moving anywhere, are we, babe?”
“No, dear.” Linda tilted her cheek toward Joan, accepting a smack on the side of her face with a frown. “I suppose we’re not.”
*
Sydney hung my coat in the closet and then pulled me into an embrace.
“Reed? Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry Linda was such a pain tonight.” She couldn’t see my face, but professional habit caused me to keep my expression blank.
“You’re not responsible for her actions.” Sydney cupped my chin gently, love pouring from her eyes. “Any of her actions. You know I know that, right?”
She knew. She always knew. I felt the knot of tension I’d carried inside all week unravel and I relaxed into the solid security of her arms. I would always be safe here. Actually, more than safe, cherished. Often I wondered if her sixth sense was the primary reason behind her success as a counselor. I knew it had to be a major factor. I nodded, telling myself that it took actual words to betray a confidence.
“I’m going to talk and you don’t have to say a word, okay?” Sydney held me even more tightly and again, I just nodded. I could feel warmth on my neck as she breathed a sense of peace against me.
“Those two were never right for each other and they rushed into their relationship before they ever gave themselves a chance to find that out. I imagine Joan had no idea before tonight that Linda was contemplating divorce and had even gone so far as to talk to you about it.” She paused and I struggled not to respond. “If they knew each other even a fraction as well as we know one another, surprises like that wouldn’t happen.”
Was that true? Were we so much a part of each other that surprise wasn’t possible? Did I know how Sydney would react in any given situation, what she would say, what she would do? I knew the answer to each question was unequivocally yes. I might not know the specific words or the choreography of her actions, but I knew as surely as I knew anything on this earth that my lover’s actions would always be kind and loving. When it came to me, or us, she would put my heart, my soul, first—before her own. Her love transcended any sense of selfishness. I had no doubt she loved me.
Here in her arms, I wondered if she felt the same sense of security. Could I be counted on to deliver comforting constants? Did she view my love as an unstoppable force, always present, always strong? I held her tightly, as if to squeeze out any doubt. She glanced up at me and when she did, I saw the answers to my questions in her eyes. She had no doubts about my love for her, either its strengths or its limits. Gazing at the unconditional love reflected back at me, I was overcome with the desire to shake her certainty, to make her question her well-grounded knowledge of all I have ever been. I wanted her to know that my love still came with surprises.
“Marry me.”
VK Powell is the author of two novels of romantic intrigue, To Protect and Serve and Suspect Passions, and several erotic short stories, all published by Bold Strokes Books. Her third novel, Fever, set in Africa, is scheduled for release in early 2010. www.powellvk.com.
Return to Me
VK Powell
Ty dropped her bags at the terminal doors, blew me three air kisses, and disappeared behind the tempered glass. Each step she took was a blunt instrument gouging at my heart. She’d made me promise that I wouldn’t cry. What a stupid agreement. The minute she vanished from view the tears started and wouldn’t stop. Why didn’t I try once more to tell her how I felt about her? Would it have mattered? “It’s just another trip,” she’d said. But it didn’t feel like that. It felt like forever.
Three months turned into six and then twelve. Every place I went, every person I saw, and every sappy song on the radio reminded me of her. Each memory dredged up a fresh deluge of tears, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The truth that everyone else seemed to know gradually registered and I finally admitted it. I was in love with my best friend. A cliché, but true. The real issue was whether I could convince her.
She was coming back for a visit and I paced the same airport terminal like an expectant parent. As I trod back and forth on the hard tile floor, I rehearsed a million suave and lighthearted greetings, but I’d have been happy with anything short of a blurted confession of love in a roomful of strangers. I’d glanced at the status board so many times, I felt like my head was on a swivel. Airport security was starting to regard me with more than a modicum of curiosity. But her flight had landed ten minutes ago, and still no Ty.
Eventually passengers started to descend the escalators. My pulse ramped up as I stood rooted in place and watched each person who wasn’t her pass by. It had to be some twisted universal game that caused time to pass in direct opposition to your desires. My insides twitched like leaves in a stiff breeze as I waited—it seemed like eternity.
The first indication of Ty’s approach was her well-worn UGG boots at the top of the platform, followed by faded jeans that hugged her muscular legs, and her signature leather bomber jacket hanging open over a turquoise T-shirt. My eyes burned as tears clouded my vision. I blinked, unwilling to lose sight of her for one second after waiting a year for this. Her baby blond hair, tanned face, and ever-present smile finally came into view as she ran down the steps toward me, shouting my name.
“Coop-a, Coop-a!” Her thick Australian accent made my name sound like it ended with a instead of er. “You’re here.”
She grabbed me in a full-body hug and swung us in circles. I grew light-headed but wasn’t sure if it was from the merry-go-round greeting or her teacup-sized breasts pressed so closely under mine that they felt fused. I inhaled the light scent of her jasmine perfume hungrily. I’d tried so desperately to hold on to that fragrance after she left, whiffing everything that hinted at jasmine, but nothing approximated the combination of the aroma with her skin. My body tingled with the physical, visual, and olfactory presence of her.
Ty stopped her happy dance, held me at arm’s length, and gave me a thoughtful appraisal. “You’ve lost a few pounds.” Then she threaded a hand through my hair. “And gained more gray—gorgeous.”
My heart pounded erratically. I tried to speak but my voice wouldn’t cooperate. The words I wanted to say backed up in my throat. All those months of living without her had been hell, but now that she stood in front of me, I realized just how much more I’d missed her. If I opened my mouth, I knew my feelings would fly out. This was not the time or place.
“Aren’t you going to say anything? Didn’t you miss me?”
I managed to nod as the tears at last broke free. She cupped my face in her hands, brushed the tears from my cheeks with her thumbs, and whispered, “It’s okay, Coop. Wait right here while I get my luggage and we’ll get out of here.”
As I drove away from the airport, my voice returned. “Where to?”
“She speaks.”
“It’s good to see you,” I finally managed.
“So, what have you been doing? Or should I ask who?”
“Nothing and nobody.” Since she’d been gone, my interest in other women had dwindled to a priestly level. I went out with friends to pass the time and to avoid becoming a complete shut-in. But my things-I-want-in-a-partner list had grown to voluminous proportions through the years, making it almost impossible for anyone to measure up. Maybe that had been my unconscious goal.
“I can’t imagine the line of women at your door has gotten any shorter without me to cull out the unqualified.”
“I just haven’t found anyone I’m interested in.” The role of noncommitted serial dater didn’t really suit me anymore since I hadn’t actually had a real date in over a year. But that was how Ty remembered me. I imagined it was the main reason she never took me seriously when I hinted at my feelings for her. She joked that I’d miss the other flavors if I settled for just one.
She reached over to where my hand rested on the console between us, covered it with hers, and squeezed lightly. The dim green glow from the dashboard must’v
e concealed my blush because Ty didn’t comment. It felt as if no time had passed as we caught each other up on mutual friends and family.
“How about some ice cream?” she asked. “You know where.”
It was the last thing we’d done on the day she left. I hadn’t been back since. We pulled into Maxie B’s parking lot five minutes before closing and exited the shop with two double-scoop cups of Moose Tracks and Cappuccino Crunch.
“A year without Moose Tracks is cruel and unusual punishment,” Ty lamented.
“I would’ve thought that alone was enough to bring you back sooner.”
“Now that’s the smart-ass Coop I remember.”
We sat in the car eating ice cream and giggling like two kids playing hooky. Ty dug the vanilla from around the chocolate-coated peanut butter chunks and ate that first. She always saved the best for last. When she reached her favorite part, she stuck her spoon in my direction. “Want some?”
“You know I don’t like to mix my chocolate with my peanut butter. It’s not natural.”
“It’s as natural as a stoic old Aussie like me and a drama queen like you being friends for twenty-three years and never sleeping together. Why wasn’t I ever good enough, Coop?”
I nearly choked on a glob of Cappuccino Crunch, which fortunately keep my mouth closed. I couldn’t believe she’d asked the question. We’d been friends since childhood, went to school together, came out together, and even dated each other’s exes. But neither of us had ever broached that particular question. Any time I tried to bring up the possibility, she blew me off with jokes. I was so stunned, I had no idea where to start or if I really should.
If she only knew that she was the standard by which everyone else was measured. I felt for her the one thing missing with everyone else—a heart connection. But how could I explain that to my best friend? What if she didn’t feel the same way? If I had to choose between sleeping with her and keeping her as a friend, it was a no-brainer. The idea that I might have both never seemed a real possibility. So I erred on the side of caution. It was late. She was tired and this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have interrupted by yawns or pleas for a continuance.
“You were better than that, Ty. You were my best friend. Now, let’s get you home so you can get some rest.” If I could distract her momentarily she would probably let it go. Ty wasn’t usually fond of discussing relationships or feelings.
“Home sounds good.”
A feeling of warmth settled in my chest to hear Ty refer to my home as hers. Then a twinge of apprehension crept in as I realized that Ty didn’t have a home here anymore and she’d be staying with me until she left again. Suddenly my three-bedroom home seemed too small.
A few minutes later, we deposited her luggage in the guest bedroom and I tried to sound like a calm, cordial hostess. “I’ve set you up here with the bathroom across the hall. If you need anything else, let me know. But you probably remember where everything is.”
“Thanks. I think I’ll just have a quick shower and turn in. Jet lag, you know.”
Listening to Ty’s non-melodic hum as she entertained herself with old Aussie tunes in the shower, I replayed the evening. She looked like the same person, smelled deliciously the same, and sounded like my longtime friend, but her foray into sexual innuendo was very un-Ty.
Before she left I hadn’t thought of her in those terms since we were teenagers. A memory of two kids practicing kissing and ineffectively groping each other washed over me like an information overload. I gripped the kitchen sink like it was a life raft and I was drowning. I bowed my head and forced the trapped air from my lungs. Arousal swam through my system like an intoxicating drug.
“Are you okay?” Ty slid her arms around me from behind and hugged me to her freshly showered body. My shiver was involuntary.
“I’m fine. Are you hungry? Can I fix you anything?” I wiggled from her arms and opened the refrigerator, looking for quick distractions. Not now. Not the right time, I kept repeating.
“You’re not okay. I know that frustrated sigh.” Those sapphire blue eyes dug into my soul like a sensitive excavation tool. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, really, Ty. Let it go.”
“All right, but you’re not fooling me. And I’m not letting you get by with it anymore. There are a few things we’ve let go between us. Starting tomorrow we’re going to talk. I mean really talk to each other. But now I’m going to bed. Good night, Coop.” She gave me a quick hug, went into her bedroom, and closed the door.
I paced the kitchen for a while replaying her words and wondering what she meant. I thought we’d always been the best of friends, sharing everything about everybody. The only thing we’d never talked about was us—how we really felt about each other. But some things didn’t need to be said. You just knew.
On the way to my bedroom, I placed my hand on Ty’s closed door and caressed it as if I were stroking her skin. I whispered I love you and went to bed. I tossed for what seemed like hours, chasing sleep and fearing it. When I finally drifted into a restless slumber, my deepest desire and my greatest fear came true.
A warm body spooned against my backside. I felt the thin layer of soft fabric between her breasts and my naked back as she pressed against me. Her hand slid across my abdomen, soft and tentative. I grabbed it and pulled it up between my breasts. When her hand started massaging my breasts and tweaking my nipples, I realized it wasn’t a dream.
I sat upright in bed, clutching the sheet to my naked body. “Ty, what are you doing?”
“Nothing. I couldn’t sleep.” Moonlight through the partially opened shades cast a series of lighter and darker lines across her boxer and T-shirt clad body. She looked like a blond-haired minx. “I thought we could talk.”
“Can I get dressed?”
“Lie back down. I’ve seen you without clothes hundreds of times. Besides, you’ve got your trusty toga draped around you like a shield.”
I reluctantly lay back in the bed and turned to face her. “I thought you were tired. What do you want to talk about that can’t wait until morning?”
“I was wondering about that question you avoided earlier. Why was I never good enough to be your lover? Weren’t you ever attracted to me? Didn’t you feel anything special for me? What was it exactly?”
“Ty, don’t do this.” She had no idea that every woman I had sex with was her in some way. And if the physical resemblance wasn’t there, I’d close my eyes and conjure her up in my mind. But in the morning, there was just no substitute for the real thing.
“Do what? I really want to know.” Her face took on a pained look as the light in her eyes faded and her smile disappeared.
I’d never been able to handle that hurt look. Anything that made her unhappy ripped at my heart like the talons of a wild beast. I could deny her nothing. “You’re my best friend. I didn’t want to mess that up.”
“And sleeping with me would do that?”
“You see how well it’s turned out with everyone else.” I knew immediately that was the wrong thing to say. Her full lips pressed into a thin line of consternation, and she looked at me like I was the dumbest woman on the planet.
“But I’m not like everyone else. Haven’t you figured that out yet? You’ve had a year to think about it.”
My insides felt like they were going to explode if I didn’t tell her the truth. It was now or never. She really wanted to know and I didn’t think I could contain it any longer. “I love you.”
“I know. And I love you, too.”
We’d said those words a million times and they’d always meant like a friend or like a sister, never like a lover. This time I had to be clear. “I mean I’m in love with you. I think I’ve loved you since we were kids. And yes, I’m attracted to you, so much that it hurts to be around you without touching you. What I feel for you goes beyond special. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, needed, or imagined rolled into one blond-haired, blue-eyed, compact gymnast’s body, mind, and spirit. I love you wi
th all that I am.” I waited for the inevitable string of reasons why that was impossible or unreasonable or my imagination. I waited for the joke that would let her laugh the whole thing off. But they didn’t come. She just grinned. “Why are you smiling?”
“What part of being in love and having sex doesn’t work for you?”
“The part that comes after the sex, the leaving part. I couldn’t bear to lose you, Ty. All the sex in the world isn’t worth it to me.”
Ty’s smile got bigger. “You think this is about sex?”
“What else?”
She reached for me and pulled me into her arms. “This is about love, Coop. I’m in love with you too. Why do you think I came back?”
“You returned to me?”
“Only you.”
“Oh.” The words I’d waited my entire life to hear hung in the air between us and I wanted to let them linger and swirl around me like her warm embrace. They sank into my brain and body one by one, releasing the hold I’d placed on my heart for years. The thread that had bound our hearts together strengthened and tugged me closer to her. I started crying and couldn’t stop. “I’m sorry—” I tried to explain but the sobs robbed me of words.
“It’s okay as long as those are tears of happiness.”
I nodded as another wave soaked her thin T-shirt. She stroked my hair and rocked me back and forth in her arms. “I have missed you so much, Coop. I’ve had a year to think too and I know I never want to be without you again. We’re meant to be.”
“Really?” My heart swelled with hope in spite of the constant flood of tears.
“Australia is a beautiful country, but I can live anywhere. As long as I get to wake up to you every day I’m happy. But there is one condition.”
“Condition?” I raised my head from her shoulder and held my breath. Was this the part where she told me she was only kidding? “Anything you want.”
Radclyffe & Stacia Seaman - Romantic Interludes 2 - Secrets Page 12