“I’m starving. Diner?” Sasha asked through a smile and a yawn.
A half block down, over brunch and coffee, they talked about everyday stuff, never once discussing the last twelve hours, which made Meg a little nervous. But she was too busy enjoying being with Sasha, so she pushed it out of her mind. She thought the feeling might be mutual because even after they paid the bill, Sasha volunteered to walk with Meg as she headed toward a southbound subway.
They strolled next to each other for over a mile, passing one train station after another, until they reached Twenty-Third Street, where Sasha steered them toward Chelsea Piers to pick up the footpath that ran along Manhattan’s West Side. It was a chilly, gray day but the sun popped through the clouds every so often to offset the cool breeze coming off the water.
A few moments of silence passed between them before Meg stuffed her hands in the pockets of her North Face shell. “So, we should probably talk about last night.”
“Okay,” Sasha replied, waiting for Meg to start.
Meg chewed the inside of her mouth, a little nervous. “So, I mean, I know you keep saying you’re okay with everything.” She gave Sasha a sidelong glance. “But are you really?”
Sasha looked at the ground. “I think so.”
“Yeah?”
Looking back up, Sasha nodded with a smile. “I kind of thought my actions this morning proved I was okay.” She hooked her arm through Meg’s as they continued along the water.
“I know. But—”
“But what?”
“I don’t know. I’m confused, I guess.”
“About?”
Meg swallowed her smile. “Everything.”
“Wait a second.” Sasha’s voice held some vulnerability. “Do you regret it?”
Meg looked right at the sweet girl walking next to her. “No, Sash,” she said with a smile. She paused abruptly, not really knowing what to say next. She wanted to ask what this meant for them and where they went from here. She was dying to know if this was a one-time thing. But she was scared of the answers, so she asked something else entirely.
“Have you ever done that before? With a girl, I mean?”
Sasha looked right into Meg’s eyes and shook her head.
“So that was your first time?”
“Yes.”
Meg nodded to herself, inwardly surprised at how comfortable and relaxed Sasha had seemed throughout.
Sasha witnessed her thought process and squinted one eye closed. “I was okay, right?”
“Of course. You were good. Really good,” she added reassuringly. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“You’re surprised I’m good in bed?” Sasha teased her playfully.
“That’s not what I mean.” Meg met her sarcasm. “I’m just surprised you were, that you are still, so calm about everything. No morning-after freak-out. That is sort of unusual, considering you’ve never done it. I’m happy about it, don’t get me wrong. Just a little surprised.”
Sasha squeezed Meg’s biceps through her jacket. “Did you wig out your first time?”
“Yes,” Meg answered quickly, laughing a little at the memory.
“Tell me about it.”
Meg moved them out of the way of an oncoming Rollerblader. “Now that I think about it, I didn’t really,” she said, changing her answer. When Sasha looked confused, Meg said, “My first time was with Tracy, remember? She was really cool.”
“I forgot you dated her.” Sasha looked past Meg, out onto the water. “And you guys are still friends. That’s nice.”
“It is.” Meg craned her neck to check out a boat speeding through the harbor. “Me and Tracy were never meant to be a couple.” She shrugged. “We just needed each other, I think. She’d had a girlfriend before me but they broke up when the girl went to college. We sort of found each other, became friends, and did stuff.” Meg giggled.
Sasha dropped her chin and raised her eyebrow at Meg’s vague reference.
“We were seventeen. Actually I was seventeen, she was eighteen.” Meg’s smile was a little naughty. “I knew I liked girls. I didn’t have a clue what to do. Tracy was gorgeous and confident and a little lonely. It worked for us. She kind of showed me the ropes.” Meg looked at the ground as she walked. “I was really self-conscious. Tracy never made me feel stupid. She was nice.”
“You were nervous?”
“I guess by the time we did it, I wasn’t nervous for the actual act.” She bit the inside of her mouth. “We had been messing around a lot. I mean, there wasn’t much we hadn’t done.” Meg gave a small smile. “So I was kind of excited for that part of it. But I was nervous for what it meant. For me,” she clarified. “I just felt like, once I did it, being a lesbian was real and not just an idea in my head. Kind of like there was no going back.” She twisted her mouth to the side. “That freaked me out.”
Sasha nodded, taking it all in.
“Hey.” Meg stopped walking and looked right at Sasha, realizing what she had just said. “I’m not saying that means anything about you. You know that, right?” Meg tried to overcompensate. “That was just how I felt at the time.”
“I know,” Sasha responded quietly. “I know what you mean, Meg.” She reached for Meg’s hand inside her jacket pocket. “I wasn’t entirely honest with you before.”
Meg interlaced their fingers and waited for Sasha to continue.
Sasha took a deep breath. “I told you a while ago I had experimented in college.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I was maybe not completely forthcoming about the whole story,” she started. She looked away toward the traffic on the street. “It was one girl. Sophie, her name was.”
“Okay.”
“She was my boyfriend’s best friend’s girlfriend. And initially it was my boyfriend who suggested it. But I had been planting the seed for a while, pointing out girls I thought were hot. And Sophie and I became friends because of Dave and Tom. So we would all hang out together.” She widened her eyes as she looked at the ground. “Insert lots of drinking, and bam, it happened. The first few times, we all laughed. Sophie and I would play it up. The guys loved it.” She held her free hand out and let it graze the top of a wildflower planted along the pathway’s green space. “The thing is, I loved it too. I loved kissing Sophie.” She clenched Meg’s hand a little. “I spent a lot of time orchestrating situations where it would be just the four of us.”
Sensing Sasha’s level of discomfort in her disclosure, Meg rubbed the top of her hand with her thumb and waited to see if she would say more.
“So, one night the guys were meeting us later after some rugby match or football game or whatever. Sophie came to my apartment beforehand to help me get dinner ready. We were drinking and I kind of…” She shook her head. “I mean, I tried to…” She bit her lip and looked away from Meg. “It’s so embarrassing,” she continued. “I tried to kiss her. Without the guys there,” she finished, unable to make eye contact.
“What happened?”
“It was bad.”
“She flipped out?”
“She didn’t scream at me or anything like that, but she certainly didn’t let it happen either. That was it. She knew. We never hung out again after that night.” Sasha shrugged a little. “I broke up with Dave not long after.”
“Did she tell him? Is that why you broke up?”
Sasha shook her head. “I don’t think she told anyone. Ever.” She huffed out a weird little laugh. “Dave and I were never that serious. I wasn’t anyway.” A small smile escaped her. “Even after we broke up, it was Sophie I thought about all the time. Not Dave.”
“Were you in love with her?”
Sasha cocked her head from side to side. “Love?” She paused to consider. “Not love, I don’t think. I did love kissing her though.” She licked her lips. “I secretly imagined doing other stuff with her. It was a pretty serious crush, I guess.”
“Did you ever see her after that?”
“Around Oxford.�
� Sasha nodded. “She was always nice to me. But it was weird. I freaked her out. I could tell.”
Meg stopped and faced Sasha, taking a brief second to assess where they were, just at the north end of Battery Park City. They had been walking for hours. The late October sun was setting behind them, the cold fall air creeping in.
“I can’t believe she didn’t want to kiss you. Stupid girl.”
Sasha drew in her lower lip with her teeth. “Why? You want to kiss me?” she asked coyly.
“All the time,” Meg answered as she leaned forward and met Sasha’s lips. The kiss was soft and slow at first but grew deeper by degrees as they pressed against the railing at the water’s edge, small ripples of the Hudson River lapping against the seawall beneath them.
Meg pulled away first. She kissed Sasha’s lips and her forehead. “It’s late. I should get moving if I’m going to make the next boat.”
“Why are you going home?”
Meg furrowed her brow in question. “Um, for starters I need a shower. I’ve been wearing the same clothes since yesterday morning. And believe it or not, I’m kind of hungry again.”
Sasha laced their fingers together. “So let’s grab a cab, head back to my place. I have a shower, you know.”
“And food?”
“We’ll order Thai, stay in, watch ridiculous, guilty-pleasure movies all night.”
Meg smiled at how easily she was being convinced.
Sasha clearly knew it too. “So that’s it. Everything’s worked out, then.”
“What about clothes? There’s still that.”
“Entirely optional.” Sasha smiled, pulling Meg toward West Street and a string of uptown taxis ready for an easy fare.
*
Back at Sasha’s, Meg was only halfway through her shower when Sasha eased back the curtain and stepped in.
“Hi.” She spoke with a question in her voice as though she was unsure if it was okay to join Meg.
Meg couldn’t help but smile. “Come here,” she said with more confidence than ever. Without waiting, Meg curled Sasha into her body, holding her from behind under the hot shower stream. She took the soap and started at Sasha’s abdomen, working her way up the soft curve of her breasts as she touched her lips to Sasha’s shoulder. Meg bit down gently as she lathered Sasha’s nipples, and she felt Sasha shudder at the contact. She smiled into Sasha’s wet flesh, not ready to give in yet, continuing to tease her.
“Meg?” Sasha’s voice was needy.
“Mm-hmm.”
Meg heard a small moan escape Sasha’s lips. “Meg,” she pleaded, taking Meg’s hand and putting it between her legs. Meg turned Sasha around, leaning into her against the bathroom wall as she pushed her fingers inside. Their kiss was wet and slippery and hungry until she finally dropped to her knees and stayed there until she felt Sasha’s legs buckle above her.
Sasha sank down and straddled Meg on the floor of the tub, wrapping her limp arms around Meg’s neck. “How do you do that to me?”
Meg tilted her head at the question and placed a kiss on her lips. “Do what?”
“That.” Sasha’s eyes went to where she had stood a second ago. “That thing where you reduce me to nothing. Make me completely lose control.”
“What, like, make you come?”
Sasha looked down, seeming shy for a second, but she spoke anyway. “It’s more than that. Nobody’s ever made me feel like that.” She bit her lip, still avoiding eye contact. “Not like you do.”
“Really?”
Sasha nodded slowly and rested her head against Meg’s. “This is so sad. I’m not sure I can move yet but the water is getting cold.” She put on a mock pout and stood up, taking Meg’s hand. “Don’t think I’m done with you,” she said, handing Meg a towel. “I just need to get the circulation back in my body,” she said with an adorable glimmer in her eye.
When they were dry, they ordered takeout and ate it off one plate, wrapped in the blankets from the bed, feeding each other bites every so often. Sasha sat between Meg’s legs. They put the television on in the background, and halfway through Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Sasha ran her fingers along Meg’s calves, then leaned back and kissed the spot next to Meg’s ear. “Is it my turn yet?”
Meg smiled. She was ready, and clearly Sasha was too. Meg kissed her deeply, sliding her hand down Sasha’s torso, and touching her through her thin pajamas.
“Nuh-uh.” Sasha grinned, turning around and leaning Meg back into the pillows. “You’re going first this time.” She lifted her eyebrows. “I make no promise I won’t completely pass out when you’re done with me.”
Meg smiled. She was dying to touch Sasha again, to watch her orgasm. Especially now, in light of Sasha’s confession. But she relented and relaxed into the mattress, pulling Sasha on top of her and kissing her passionately. She let Sasha pull off her borrowed boxer shorts and smiled into her mouth when she heard Sasha’s breath catch at their bodies making contact. Sasha wasn’t slow this time. She zigzagged her lips down Meg’s body, settling between her legs and staying there until Meg’s orgasm came in multiples.
Afterward, Meg took her time with Sasha, teasing and playing until Sasha begged for mercy. But she didn’t pass out as she’d predicted she might. They stayed awake half the night watching cheesy movies they had both seen before, passing the time in a mix of talking and touching until they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Meg never asked what any of this meant for them or if it would happen again. When the thought rushed into her mind in the early dawn light, she pushed it out, choosing instead to revel in the feel of Sasha’s bare stomach against her palm, the smooth skin of her back against her chest, and their legs entwined together.
When she finally left late Sunday afternoon, Meg felt a pang of regret—not for what they had done, but only that she had to leave and she worried it might never happen again. When she kissed Sasha good-bye in the doorway, she thought Sasha felt it too. Her eyes held disappointment and Meg could only hope it was because she was leaving, and not something else.
Chapter Sixteen
Tracy was just finishing her jog when she strolled out of Bay West’s rental section and caught sight of Meg at the corner of the block.
“Hey, buddy, how was your weekend?” Meg asked.
Tracy gave a full-on leer. “Not as exciting as yours.” She playfully shook Meg by the shoulders from behind as she followed her into the house. “I want to hear all the dirty details.” She threw her arm around Meg’s neck and gave a squeeze. “I’m psyched for you.” Tracy saw Meg blush as she backed into the kitchen. “How was it seeing Sasha at the office today?” Tracy drained half a glass of water and wiped the edges of her mouth with her thumb and forefinger. “You didn’t say much about it in your texts.”
“It was fine, I guess.” Meg shrugged her shoulders. “I only saw her this morning. She was out at a client all afternoon.”
“How was it when you saw her?”
“Normal,” Meg answered.
Tracy lifted her eyebrows and challenged Meg with her stare. “And what is normal for you two, exactly?” Even though she expected an answer, her tone was purposely spirited.
“Hmm, good question.” Meg matched her friend’s sass. She tapped her chin in faux thought. “I guess…picture whatever normal is for you and Betsy.” Meg put on a sugary smile. “That.”
“Well played.” Tracy laughed. “Speaking of which, can I borrow your car tonight?” She refilled her empty glass. “We’re going out to dinner. Me and Betsy.”
Tracy cleared her throat and started to explain. “We still have that gift certificate and I just figured it might be a nice change if I picked her up for once, you know.” She looked over for Meg’s response and thought for a second Meg was gearing up to make a joke, so she braced herself for a racy comment, but Meg just smiled. “Have fun,” she said with a wink, tossing the keys across the space between them.
*
Lombardo’s Italian Ristorante was a neighborhood stap
le. It wasn’t fancy, but the food was fantastic and the staff always pleasant. It was quiet tonight, even for a Monday, probably due to the unseasonably cold weather—a fact that was killing Tracy. Over the years she’d become accustomed to the California climate, and even though tonight was in the midforties, it felt subzero to her. Fortunately, the maître d’ did them a solid, ushering them toward a cozy back corner table a few feet from the wood-burning oven.
“What are you thinking for dinner?” Betsy peered over the menu.
Tracy let out a long breath. “Probably the sea bass.”
“Where do you see that?”
“On the specials board behind you.”
Betsy shook her head. “Wow. You really are a health nut. You know this place is known for its chicken parm and the homemade ravioli.”
“What can I say?” Tracy fanned over her body with one hand. “This doesn’t happen by itself.” She smiled at her cocky joke. “Pasta is not my friend.”
Betsy rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she reached for her wine. “How was LA?”
Tracy blinked slowly considering the question. “It was good.” She opted not to disclose that she had spent an inordinate amount of the last seventy-two hours counting the minutes until this dinner reservation. “Did you make it to the Met on Saturday?” she asked, knowing Betsy had expressed interest in a limited-run Early Italian Renaissance display on loan from Europe.
Betsy curled her lips and shook her head. “I checked the website. It’s there for another two weeks.” She looked right at Tracy. “You said you wanted to go too.” She shrugged. “I figured we could catch it together this weekend.” While it wasn’t phrased as a question, Betsy lifted her eyebrows, clearly hoping for a positive response.
Tracy’s smile was warm and appreciative. “That would be awesome.”
They talked through their salads and entrees about everything—noteworthy bits in the news, the weather, the weekend past, and the week ahead. Tracy filled a clueless Betsy in on what she knew of Meg’s tryst with Sasha, but was hardly able to answer any of Betsy’s follow-up questions, explaining she had taken an overnight flight and gotten in to New York this morning after Meg had already left for work, so they’d only seen each other in the few minutes before Tracy got ready for dinner.
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