Capturing Jessica

by Jane Hardee

  Before she knew it, she was back at the bar, slamming down a ten-dollar bill and getting a double shot from Robin. The burning tequila slipped down her throat, and she placed her shot glass on the table and requested another, ignoring Robin’s questioning eyes. She wiped the sweat that had broken out on her forehead. Michael was a private person and did not wear her emotions on her sleeve, but right now, she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything but obliterating the sight of them together from her mind. That or obliterating Stevie…she could easily see herself throwing punch after punch. The thought appealed to her more by the second, and she realized she needed to leave the bar before she did something stupid. Like throwing Stevie through a fucking wall.

  Just as she reached the door she felt a soft hand on her arm.

  “Oh, thank God you’re ready to leave too.” Jess fell into step beside her.

  Michael said nothing and slammed her hand against the bar door to push it open.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It was near one o’clock, very quiet, and they were the only car on the road. Each time Jess spoke, Michael turned and stared out the window to watch the passing streetlights. Jess knew Michael hadn’t wanted to come to the party, but she didn’t expect her to be an irritable sourpuss in the passenger seat afterward. After the debacle with Stevie, all Jess wanted to do was spend quality time with Michael, laughing and lounging around as they did most Friday nights, but she feared a carefree, relaxing end to the evening was out of the question.

  “What’s bothering you? Did something happen tonight?” Jess hoped she wouldn’t increase Michael’s bad mood by asking about it. She attempted to put aside her annoyance with Stevie and concentrate on being a friend to Michael.

  “I don’t like the way Stevie treats you,” Michael slurred. “Like a piece of fucking meat.”

  Michael acted protectively with everyone, but as she mentioned Stevie, there was strange anger in her voice. Why bring up Stevie at all? The night was over. Michael had a bad habit of avoiding talking when upset. Jess was not about to relive the Stevie drama so that Michael didn’t have to talk about her own unexpressed emotions.

  The incident on the dance floor left her uncomfortable, and she didn’t want to think about it anymore. Rather than continue the discussion, Jess said nothing. After several minutes of driving in silence, Jess pulled into Michael’s reserved parking spot and turned off the engine. Michael stumbled to the sidewalk. After a night of drinking and spending time with friends, Jess usually said good night to Michael at her building’s elevator, then hopped in her car and headed home. Michael’s current state made her worry, and she decided to at least help her upstairs. Jess cupped Michael’s elbow and guided her to the building. Michael took the keys from Jess and fumbled to find the key to the elevator. Jess could tell they would be standing there all night if she let Michael keep trying. She reached over and slipped the keys from her hand.

  Michael leaned against the elevator wall, arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Jess blew out a breath and mirrored Michael’s pose, taking a stance on the elevator’s opposite side. “What’s going on, Michael?”

  “I’m fine.” Michael stared at the floor and shoved her hands into her pockets. She looked as if she had been caught with cheap beer on her breath, sneaking in after curfew. Jess remembered Michael at sixteen, dealing with the intensity of being a teenager. Her irritation melted away. Morgan had once told Jess that she could read Michael’s emotions like no one else could. Could this anger be masking something deeper? Was she hurting? Not knowing what had happened to upset Michael made it hard to know what to say; any comforting words might seem inadequate. Jess hated feeling helpless when someone else was upset. She did the only thing that she thought might help. She wrapped her arms lightly around Michael’s neck and embraced her. Jess sighed as she felt Michael relax. She put her head on Jess’s shoulder and pulled her closer.

  It seemed remarkable to Jess that less than twenty minutes ago she had been wrapped in Stevie’s embrace, one that made her skin crawl, and now in Michael’s arms, there was nowhere else she would rather be. She turned and placed a small kiss on Michael’s forehead in an attempt to erase the furrows. Michael’s skin felt like warm silk. Jess let her lips linger.

  A small sound escaped Michael’s lips. The sound was so quiet Jess wondered if she’d imagined it. Michael rested her hands on Jess’s back, elbows bent and with fingers splayed against her shoulder blades. The soft breathing against her neck stirred a response in Jess, and she wondered if drinking two large cocktails fueled her strong reaction. She released her hold on Michael before she felt driven to do anything more.

  When they reached Michael’s front door, Jess followed Michael as she stumbled toward the corner of her loft that served as the bedroom. The king-size bed was set low to the floor on a vintage frame, one they had found on one of their many antique store trips. Last spring, they had spent a long weekend refurbishing the old piece of furniture, bringing it back to its intended splendor, and it became one of Jess’s favorite things in Michael’s loft. The sheets were a dark navy blue with small red squares, and Jess bought them for Michael because they reflected the vintage style of the bed frame. Michael toed off her sneakers and plopped facedown on the large bed with a groan.

  “You’ll need to drink some water, or you’ll regret it in the morning.” Jess retrieved a tall glass from the kitchen, held it under the tap, and reflected on the evening. Michael had never before shown interest in her relationship with Stevie; in fact, Michael avoided the subject whenever possible. Why did she now seem so irritated with the way Stevie treated her? Cool water washed over her fingers, and Jess realized she had become lost in thought. She emptied some of the water and returned to Michael’s bedside.

  Jess set the glass on the night table, sat near Michael on the bed, and played with a loose string on her jeans. “Are you okay?” Jess whispered.

  “No,” Michael said, the sound muffled because she was facedown.

  “Michael,” Jess placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder, “you know you can tell me anything, right?” Her fingers lightly brushed some strands of hair that had come loose from Michael’s short ponytail.

  “Not this,” Michael said.

  What’s wrong? She again tried to comfort Michael. She drew small circles on Michael’s back with her fingertips, and Michael turned to face her. Her eyes were heavy and tired, yet she looked as though she was about to speak. Michael had never looked so vulnerable. Jess yearned to know what was inside her heart and mind. Jess wanted nothing more than to take her into her arms and make all her worries disappear.

  “Let’s get you out of these clothes so you can sleep.” Jess pulled Michael up and reached for the bottom of her polo shirt. It was soft cotton with large blue stripes, well-worn like most of Michael’s wardrobe. Rather than looking old or used, all her non-business clothes just looked comfortable and loved. Jess thought Michael looked great in everything she wore, but she most liked seeing her in casual things.

  Michael lifted her arms to allow Jess to remove her shirt. Jess’s breath made a sharp intake after she saw the smooth planes of Michael’s stomach. She had seen Michael dress and undress many times, but it had never made her flush before. She wondered if Michael did crunches or sit-ups. Michael’s stomach was flat and hard, unlike Jess’s soft, slightly rounded belly. Maybe Michael got a strong core from all her physical work. In any case, Jess was thankful for a moment to gaze at it. Knowing Michael had an incredible physique and ogling her incredible physique were two very different things. Jess shut her eyes and continued to pull off the shirt.

  Jess tugged, but it was difficult to lift, and she needed to open her eyes. She was greeted with the sight of Michael’s breasts encased in a navy sports bra. Her gaze traveled up to the half of Michael’s face that she could see. Michael’s lips were parted and her breath came in short, shallow bursts. It smelled like alcohol and spearmint, an oddly sexy mix. Jess continued to stare at her mouth, mesmerized, u
ntil Michael struggled with the shirt and threw it on the floor.

  Jess watched in awe when Michael moved. Her muscles flexed even from the simple act of pulling her shirt over her head. Jess wouldn’t have called Michael olive skinned, but she could not find a pale patch anywhere. The skin on Jess’s stomach was translucent compared to Michael’s, a result of never wearing a two-piece bathing suit. Michael wore a bikini top and board shorts when she swam. Was that how she stayed so tan? How had Jess never noticed it before? Too much to drink, Jess. Too much to drink. With difficulty, she tore her gaze away from Michael’s chest and looked in her eyes. Her brown eyes, almost black. Michael stared back with a hypnotic intensity. Being that they had been friends for so long, Jess had seen a number of emotions pass across Michael’s face: defeat, happiness, grief. This look she did not recognize.

  She searched Michael’s eyes, trying to figure out what she was thinking and startled when Michael’s hand came up to caress her cheek. At first the touch seemed innocent, but Michael leaned forward and began to trace Jess’s lower lip with her thumb. Michael swayed toward her, and Jess reminded herself of the fact that Michael was drunk, and she should put an end to this. Yet at the same time, she shivered from an unexpected chill at feeling Michael’s touch.

  In slow motion, Michael lowered her lips to Jess’s. The first thing she registered was the silky feel of Michael’s mouth. Incredibly soft and intoxicating. Their kiss started slow. Agonizingly slow. It felt like warm honey moved inside her veins, and all her limbs turned heavy. Her mind became fuzzy and she could not prevent her body from responding. She rested just her fingertips on Michael’s shoulders, afraid of what she might do if her entire palms came to rest on the toned muscles. The tip of Michael’s tongue traced her bottom lip, and Jess deepened their kiss. Emboldened by the murmur that escaped from Michael’s mouth, she let her hands wander lower. What on earth was she doing? This was Michael. Her best friend. Her buddy.

  Her buddy who had a body to die for.

  All thoughts flew away and she let her hands run down the perfect stomach she was so distracted by moments ago. She let her short nails drag along the firm muscles in Michael’s torso. Michael’s lips trailed a wet path down her throat and then back to her mouth. Her fingers touched inside the hem of Jess’s T-shirt, but much to Jess’s disappointment, they didn’t move any higher. Or lower. Jess was ready to jump out of her skin. Heat pooled in her belly and a moan escaped her throat. She couldn’t stand it. She had to have more and pushed her palms hard against Michael’s shoulders.

  Michael pulled her magnificent mouth out of reach and rested her head on Jess’s forehead, squeezed her eyes shut. Jess guessed this must be Michael trying to gain back control. Confusion and arousal fought inside Jess as she tried to decide what to do next. Who initiated this? Who was calling the shots? When Michael’s eyes opened, the heated look was replaced with one of sadness. Michael peeled one hand away from Jess’s body and with the other pulled her down on the bed. Jess went willingly; in this bizarre state she would do anything Michael asked. Jess’s eyes closed and she felt Michael’s warm hand grasp her fingers and squeeze. She stilled and kept her eyes closed.

  Jess vibrated with need, wanted to straddle Michael’s thigh and demand her attention. Instead she kept her eyes shut and wished her heart would stop pounding. She felt terrified and exhilarated at the same time. Jess was used to going months without the touch of another, yet even after her longest solitary stints, she had never responded with such an enormous, aching need for another woman.

  Opening her eyes, she was crushed to find Michael fast asleep.

  She looked beautiful, her dark lashes resting against her cheeks, her chest rising with each even, deep breath. She looked down at their hands. Michael’s strong, tan fingers clasped her smaller, delicate ones. The differences were stark. Jess, now even more confused, dropped Michael’s hand and crept from the bedroom. She let herself out of the loft and into the elevator.

  As she descended to the parking level, Jess felt weak in the knees. What the hell happened? She was in a twilight zone. Stevie had kissed her, which was unwelcome and sloppy. Then out of nowhere she had kissed her best friend. It had taken her breath away. Yes, sometimes friends became lovers, but she never thought that would happen with Michael. They had known each other for too long. It was obvious they were both cemented in the friend zone. She had known that since high school. Haven’t I?

  She knew the kiss with Stevie was a mistake, and it didn’t mean anything; Michael’s kiss was another story. Michael’s kiss was…it was…drunk. She was drunk, Jess. Don’t be stupid. Surely it didn’t mean anything either. It was a silly mistake.

  By the time Jess got to her car, she had made up her mind that the evening was an aberration, and it was not going to get in the way of her lifelong friendship with Michael. They could talk about it tomorrow, and no doubt they would both agree their crazy kiss was due to the alcohol, and they would go back to being just friends. Best friends. Years from now they would look back and laugh about it.

  Leaning back against the head rest in her car, Jess brought her fingers to her lips and traced their outline…What if she couldn’t go back?

  *

  Michael awoke to a splitting headache for the second time this week, relieved to find herself in her own apartment. In her own bed. Alone. Turning her head as slowly as she dared, she glanced at the clock. 12:18. Shit. A natural early riser, Michael hated to sleep past eight, even when she had been out late. Groaning, she pulled the comforter around her and shut her eyes. As she did, images of Jess filled her thoughts.

  It was rare for Michael to drink so much that she was unable to remember the previous night’s events. As she attempted to make sense of her jumbled memories, she realized she must have had more than usual. Michael remembered Jess driving her home. Then Jess hugging her in the elevator. The elevator. Yes, she definitely remembered Jess’s arms around her. It had taken every ounce of willpower she possessed not to reverse their positions and pin her to the wall. Jess’s smell surrounded her even now, hours later.

  Jess had stolen her heart long ago. She was gentle, compassionate, and hardworking. She had a view of the world that was pure and positive. Michael envied that. And loved her for it. But more recently, Michael’s physical attraction for Jess was becoming something she couldn’t avoid.

  She had always been attracted to Jess, yet last night was the first night she’d ever felt close to losing control. Another moment in that elevator with Jess, and Michael would have been kissing her with all the urgency and intensity she could muster.

  Stevie. Like a punch to the stomach, Michael recalled the reason she was now nursing such a wretched hangover. Stevie’s hands all over Jess, groping her ass. Jess’s hands on Stevie’s chest. Their tongues intertwined. Michael felt nauseous. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she rolled over onto her back. How dare Stevie touch Jess that way? How dare she even look at Jess that way. Wait…what if Jess wants it? What if Michael had been wrong about Jess not returning Stevie’s feelings?

  Michael had long ago accepted the fact that one day Jess would find someone. Someone she wanted to be with, make a life with. Make love to. However, seeing her with someone was more difficult than knowing it would happen. Why Stevie? Surely Jess had better taste than that! Jess needed someone intelligent, creative, fun, and strong. You just described yourself, dumbass, and you know she doesn’t want you.

  As Michael tried to rid her mind of the unwanted images of last night, she heard the lock turn in the front door. Jess. Normally when her friend came over unannounced it wasn’t an issue, but in light of Jess’s new love interest, she was in no hurry to see her. No, she did not want to see her or that perfect hourglass figure. Michael had never been so thankful for the eight-foot bookshelf used to separate her sleeping area from the rest of the loft. She could hide, jealous coward that she was. Jess rummaged around in the kitchen for only a minute, breezed past the bookshelf, and stopped next to the bed.

/>   “Good morning, sunshine.” Jess shook a bottle of aspirin and showed Michael a glass of orange juice. “I figured you might need these.”

  Michael forced herself to sit. “Thanks.”

  Jess often spent the night or came over early in the morning on the weekends, but today Michael felt stifled and suffocated with Jess in her space. Don’t be stupid. She’s your best friend. If Jess wanted to spend time with a douchebag like Stevie, well, Michael would just have to bite her tongue. She lifted the glass to her lips and felt the acidic juice slip down her throat and hit her queasy stomach. Opening the aspirin, she shook the bottle until several pills spilled into her palm. She swallowed them at once.

  “So,” Jess studied her short, red fingernails, “about last night…”

  Michael nearly choked. “Yeah, sorry about that.” Based on how she was feeling, Michael guessed Jess had to carry her home. She prayed Jess wasn’t going to bring up her newfound chemistry with Stevie. Her stomach turned again.

  “I mean I was hoping we could talk—”

  “Sure. It’s just…I’m really late to meet Camille.” Michael jumped out of bed and pulled on her jeans and T-shirt. “Some new client. I’ll call you later. Okay?” And with that, she hurried from her loft, hoping she could keep the pills down.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Michael rushed from the room and left Jess standing alone by the unmade bed. The bed she had tried not to imagine herself in all night. Jess had woken fighting a surprising giddiness. Although she hadn’t talked to Michael yet, something about the look in her eyes the previous night told her she felt something too. Although Jess knew she often got ahead of herself when something new and exciting occurred.