by Jove Belle
Neither of them spoke. KC supposed Kendall was waiting for her, giving her opportunity to say the right thing. KC couldn’t find a single word that didn’t make her feel like a Jezebel.
“KC.” Kendall shook her head. She sounded so sad, so disappointed. “What are you doing?”
“I’m…” KC picked at her cuticle. “I don’t know.” She swallowed back tears. Her relationship with Lonnie was so simple when they were together. Lonnie swamped her senses, overloaded her until nothing was left but the promise of forbidden pleasure. But when her big sister asked her to define it, to defend it, she came up empty. She didn’t have any answers when she stepped out of Lonnie’s circle of influence. She took a deep breath and said it one more time. “I don’t know.”
She walked away and left Kendall standing in the upstairs hall. She could feel her sister’s eyes on her as she went.
*
Emma was already inside the house when KC arrived home. She took a quiet second to collect herself before entering. The last thing she needed was a guilt- and fear-fueled confession to Emma to accompany Kendall’s discovery. Damn her sister’s need to know everything. The woman was a bloodhound. KC pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. She’d been told that would release tension, but so far it hadn’t worked. Her next step involved a long-neck bottle.
“Hey.” KC hung her keys on the hook by the door, dropped her jacket on the nearest chair, and made a beeline for the fridge. “Want a beer?”
Emma held a bottle high above the top edge of the couch. She was facing away from the kitchen toward the television, but it wasn’t on. “Got one.”
KC twisted the cap off and took a long pull before she joined Emma. She slouched into the cushions and rested her head against Emma’s shoulder. This was the safest place she knew. “What are we watching?”
“Is it okay,” Emma took a long drink of her beer, “if we don’t watch anything? Can we just sit here for a while?”
“Sure.” KC laid her hand on top of Emma’s. One of her first memories was of her and Emma in their underwear giggling their way through Emma’s backyard hand in hand. Since then, Emma’s parents had divorced, the house had been sold, and they’d stopped hanging out in their underwear when they got old enough to really appreciate naked girls. Still, their hands belonged together. They fit. That was one of the simple truths in KC’s life. “You want to tell me about it?”
Emma turned her hand over so their fingers naturally laced together and laid her head against KC’s. “Not yet.”
The quiet between them gave KC too much time to think about her relationship with Lonnie. She wanted distraction, not reflection. Still, she gave Emma her time. She was the sort to come around if given room. Pushing her would drive her farther away, not draw her closer.
KC tried to think about lesson plans. Her brain drifted to Lonnie with her hair drawn up in a bun and a twelve-inch wooden ruler in her hand. Hell, KC didn’t know she had a hot-for-teacher fantasy, but Lonnie filled the role naturally. KC tried to think about her car and the strange popping noise it made every time she started it. Her thoughts slid to Lonnie bent over the hood of her Mustang, a sexier car than KC’s Accord, as KC fucked her from behind.
They hadn’t used a strap-on together yet. It would definitely solve KC’s problem of being left behind on the orgasm train. She tried to think about the paperwork she needed to complete for finals’ week. Paperwork was replaced by images of Lonnie sitting at her desk while KC kneeled before her and brought her to orgasm with her tongue. In each scenario, Lonnie’s face slowly morphed into Emma’s.
KC blew out a sigh and then sipped her beer. She’d never had such a hard time staying focused before. She prided herself on remaining asexual with Emma. After all, she couldn’t act on her fantasies, so why indulge them? But her affair with Lonnie affected KC in many ways, especially her weak control over her libido, and her restraint around Emma seemed to be slipping.
She couldn’t take the quiet any longer. “You had a date last night?”
“Mmm.” Emma half nodded. If KC didn’t know better, she’d think Emma had drifted to sleep. But her body was too tense for that to be the case.
“How was it?” KC pushed for more before her brain continued its sexual exploration of all things naked and Lonnie. She really, really needed to get off.
“It was okay.” Emma shrugged. “She was…nice. Just not what I’m looking for.”
KC squeezed Emma’s hand. “Well, don’t give up. You’ll find the right girl eventually.”
Emma pulled back slightly and rearranged their bodies until she could look KC in the eyes. “What about you? What are you doing to stay warm at night?”
KC laughed, held up her right hand, and wiggled the fingers suggestively. As long as she didn’t actually speak, she’d be okay. She couldn’t actively lie to Emma. She was her oldest friend and deserved better. But with the lack of reciprocity in her relationship with Lonnie of late, the right hand joke wasn’t far from the truth.
Emma laughed with her for a moment, but then her mood turned somber. Her eyes were serious and sad when she asked, “Yeah, but don’t you ever want more?”
KC stared into Emma’s eyes for a long moment. Hell, yes, she wanted more. But it wasn’t on the menu any time soon. She was in the middle of an affair with a married woman. That didn’t exactly scream white picket fence. For lack of a better answer, she shrugged.
“Since your fingers aren’t getting a workout anywhere else…” Emma slid off the couch, sat on the floor between KC’s legs, and gestured at her shoulders. “You can put them to work on me.”
KC squeezed the knotted muscles. They were unrelenting. Emma moaned and KC dug in harder. “Damn, you’re tight.” KC stopped moving, frozen by the double meaning of her words and trying not to lose it.
Emma looked over her shoulder at KC, eyebrows raised. They started laughing at the same time. A misspeak that was only worth a tittering giggle had them both rolling. The tension in Emma’s muscles melted as her body went slack against KC’s legs. She leaned her head against KC’s thigh. “I needed that.”
“Me, too.” She resumed the massage. Though more relaxed, Emma’s neck and shoulders were still a mess. “Why are you so tense?”
Emma let her head hang, exposing the length of her neck to KC. She rubbed her thumbs over the muscle on either side of her spine. Emma groaned when KC hit a spot high on the right, where a knot was tucked into the crevice where skull met spine. She didn’t answer KC.
During her undergraduate studies, KC had perfected massage as a form of seduction. If any other woman had been writhing under her touch, KC would have had her naked and moaning for real. She squeezed Emma’s shoulders one last time, then collapsed back into the sofa. She needed a little separation. Her world lately was filled with too much skin and not enough touching in the places where she needed to be touched.
Emma left her head down. “I got a job offer.”
That sounded like good news to KC. “Why aren’t we celebrating?”
“It’s in Austin. As a production assistant at KTBC.” Emma didn’t sound as happy as KC thought she should. This was the job she’d been searching for since college, in the city where she wanted to live.
“Wait, you’re going to work for Fox news?” KTBC was the local Fox affiliate.
Emma tilted her head back and rolled her eyes. “It’s Texas, KC. All the news programs are conservative.”
“It’s Austin, Emma.” Austin was a little oasis of liberal in an otherwise conservative state. That’s why Emma wanted to move there in the first place. A job a KTBC was a compromise, an ends-justify-the-means situation. The ends for Emma meant living in Austin and the means was a job at KTBC.
“It gets me where I want to go.” Emma confirmed KC’s theory.
“Oh.” That wasn’t such great news for KC. She would miss her best friend. But it didn’t explain Emma’s down mood. Austin was her dream. “Well, that’s good, right?”
> Emma shrugged. “Yeah.” She didn’t elaborate.
Sometimes talking to Emma was like trying to extract stock advice from a schnauzer. Impossible. KC waited. She could fill the air with chatter, but Emma didn’t want that and wouldn’t appreciate it.
“I’m going next weekend to look for a place to live.” Emma cast a quick glance over her shoulder at KC, then returned her attention forward.
KC nodded even though Emma couldn’t see her. “I’ll go with you.” What other choice did she have? Of course Emma would want her there to vet such an important move.
Emma sighed. That was too many times for one night. Emma carried too much emotional weight. “Good.” She moved back up to sit next to KC.
KC clapped her hand against Emma’s leg and said, “Come with me to pick up Buddy. He’s spending the night.”
Emma tilted her head back and looked at the ceiling for several seconds, downed the rest of her beer, and stood. “Why not?” She held out a hand to help KC to her feet. At some point, Emma would stop pretending that everything was okay. KC hoped she would be there to take Emma’s hand when it happened.
Chapter Three
KC woke the next morning to the sound of Buddy crying. At Trina and Jackson’s insistence, Buddy slept in a portable crib in KC’s spare bedroom rather than in the master bedroom with her. She figured he was crying because of waking up in a strange room.
“Em.” KC shook Emma gently. As always, sometime during the night, Emma had migrated until she was half sprawled on top of KC. KC had long ignored her body’s desire to escalate her physical contact with Emma, but mornings like this tested her resolve. Emma had made it clear years ago that they were friends and nothing more. KC worked hard to respect that boundary.
Emma didn’t stir and Buddy cried louder. “Emma.” KC shook her none-too-gently. “Buddy’s crying.”
“Wha…” Emma snuggled in closer and gripped KC tighter around the middle.
KC gave up trying to wake her politely and sat up. Emma flopped to the side and almost bounced off the bed completely.
“What the fuck?” Emma’s hair hung in her face, a tangled curtain that blocked her eyes. She shoved it inelegantly behind her ears. Emma was not a morning person.
Buddy let out a lung-bursting cry.
“Oh.” Emma flopped back down and buried her head in KC’s pillow. “Wake me when it’s not the middle of the damn night,” she grumbled.
Free from bed, KC faced a battle. Her heart said go to Buddy right now. Her bladder said go to the bathroom. She wavered, then decided to go with her brain. If she didn’t take care of her morning rituals, she’d have two problems to solve instead of just one: a crying toddler and a pee stain on the rug.
After she ran to the bathroom, she called, “I’m coming, Buddy-boy.” If nothing else, she could try for some long-distance comforting. It didn’t help. Next she tried singing. She made it through two verses of “Delta Dawn” before she reached his room. He was screaming bloody murder and trying to scale the side of the pack-and-play he slept in. The song didn’t help Buddy much, but KC loved any morning that started with singing a Tanya Tucker song.
Buddy was not comforted to see his aunt round the corner instead of his mommy. He cried harder.
KC scooped him up and kissed the side of his head. “Shush shush shush.” The universal shushing sound of mothers the world over sounded like a washing machine. Not at all comforting, to her mind. Still, it worked on Buddy. He hiccupped, snuggled his head into her shoulder, then burped long and loud.
At twenty-six, KC’s biological clock had started tripping along to an uncertain beat. Most of the time, it was quiet enough to ignore, but when she held one of her sisters’ children it clamored too loud to mistake for anything but longing for a family of her own.
She carried him to the kitchen. “Come on, boyo. Let’s go fix your Auntie Em some breakfast.”
“Don’t teach him to call me that!” Emma smacked KC on the ass. Hard. She was headed toward the coffeemaker.
“Here.” KC thrust Buddy into Emma’s hands, giving her no choice but to take him. She slapped Emma’s behind as payback, then reclaimed her nephew.
Emma hopped away and set about making coffee. “No more hitting until I have coffee. At this point I can’t tell if it’s abuse or foreplay.”
“Definitely abuse.” KC set Buddy on the counter. He was damn heavy. “What does your mama feed you, boy? You’re built like a brick.”
Buddy giggled but offered no insight.
“You’re too young for coffee.” Emma handed Buddy a cup of chocolate milk. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Buddy and I are meeting Kendall and Trina at Over Easy, but we’re going to fix you some bacon pancakes first.” When they were little, KC would spend more nights with Emma than the other way around. Emma was an only child and KC’s house was perpetual chaos. Emma never quite took to her mama’s cooking lessons, but KC soaked them up. KC made a point to fix Emma’s childhood favorites.
“I’m officially in love with you.” Emma poured her first cup before the machine finished brewing. Coffee ran over the counter.
KC lifted Buddy off it and set him on the floor, then threw a towel at Emma. “Stop making a mess and hand me the griddle.”
Bacon pancakes combined the best of all worlds. Yummy pancake, salty bacon, and sweet maple syrup. Unfortunately, they were a bitch to make. KC started the bacon, then mixed the pancake batter. Emma was well into her second cup of coffee when KC asked, “Did you tell them yes?”
Emma stopped drinking mid-swallow but held the cup to her mouth for a beat longer before she set it on the counter. “I haven’t told them anything.” She ran a finger over the rim of the mug, studying it with more attention than it deserved. “I wanted to talk to you.”
With the bacon cooking, KC set Buddy at the kitchen table with a handful of Cheerios. She didn’t want to spoil his appetite, but the boy needed to eat something while he waited for breakfast with his mama. The bacon sizzled and KC pulled it off the griddle. She diced it into small pieces and waited to see if Emma would elaborate. The only sound was Buddy crunching cereal. As she cleaned the grease from the griddle, she said, “And?”
KC ladled pancake batter onto the griddle and dropped the bacon crumble into it. Emma sighed five times but still said nothing.
“Em?” KC slipped her arm around Emma. She gave her a one-arm hug until the pancakes started to bubble.
“You know I want to go. This town is…” Emma sipped her coffee. “I want to go.”
KC flipped the pancakes and pulled the syrup from the cupboard. “And?” Emma had been unemployed for so long that KC’s brain tripped over itself trying to picture her any other way. God knew it wasn’t for lack of trying, but her degree was very specific. There weren’t many opportunities in a narrow job market like television production, especially during a down economy. All the reports said new jobs were available every day, but it didn’t take a journalism degree to ask folks, “Would you like fries with that?” A legitimate job offer in her field was a dream come true for Emma, so why was she holding back? “Talk, Em.”
Emma moved from the counter to the table. She lifted Buddy out of his chair and claimed the seat with him in her lap. Then she bit her bottom lip, a nervous habit since early childhood.
“You aren’t getting these until you spill it.” KC flipped pancakes onto a plate, added butter, and poured on too much syrup. Emma liked a little pancake with her syrup. She held the dish just out of Emma’s reach.
“Okay.” Emma played with Buddy’s hair as she fumbled for words. “I want to move to Austin, but I don’t want to leave you.” She let out a huge sigh.
KC put the plate down, then sat in the empty chair. “I don’t want you to leave me either, Emma.” KC’s life was in Fairmont. Her family. Lonnie. She’d always known Emma would leave. She just assumed she’d make lots of trips. She couldn’t think of the day-to-day details beyond that. The Emma-sized hole in her life squeezed at he
r heart. “But it’s not like we’re breaking up. We’ll visit plenty.”
Before Emma could respond, KC’s phone sang out “The Yellow Rose of Texas.” It was Lonnie’s ringtone.
Where the hell was her phone? KC carried Buddy on her hip and followed the sound. She found it on the counter beneath her unread Sunday paper from the previous morning. “Just let me,” KC held up the phone, “get this. I’ll be quick.”
Emma nodded then tucked into her pancakes. She didn’t look up as KC left the room to take the call.
“Hello?” KC felt breathless and rushed, and only part of it was from the phone search and hefting Buddy around. The thought of Lonnie left her breathless regularly. Apparently that had spread to include the sound of her ringtone as well.
“Good morning, sugar.” Lonnie’s voice was languid and sexy, like a summer breeze across a lake. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
KC pictured Lonnie stretched out in her bed wearing a silk nightie and sliding over satin sheets. KC’d never actually seen Lonnie’s bedroom, but the fantasy made her wet. “Yeah?” KC grinned like an idiot. Buddy poked her in the nose and giggled. She felt decidedly less sexy as she jerked her head around to keep him from sticking his finger into her left nostril.
“Yes, I feel positively terrible about leaving you stranded yesterday.”
“Twice.” KC’s neglected girlie parts were still yelling at her for attention.
“Twice. That’s why I’m calling. I thought maybe I could talk you through it this morning.”
KC heard Emma rinsing her plate in the kitchen. Buddy struggled in her arms until she set him on the floor. “Lon, now is really not a good time.”
“I’m sure we can be quick, sugar.” Lonnie’s pout registered all the way through the phone. “I need you.”
Need is a curious thing, and typically Lonnie’s needs overrode KC’s. With her nephew climbing up her dresser, Lonnie’s needs over the phone didn’t seem all that pressing. KC was flat-out irritated. What was she supposed to do? Lock Buddy in the closet until Lonnie was done with her?