by Jane Hardee
By the time Michael showered and worked up enough courage to crawl into bed next to Jess, she found her fast asleep. Michael pulled back the covers and sat down as gently as she could. She slowly rested her head on the pillow. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but Michael didn’t dare move around too much. The last thing she wanted was for Jess to wake up and start talking to her. Or, God forbid, touching her. Michael could not believe the touching she had allowed, and even initiated at the cove, but that place, their special place, always created an overwhelming sense of rightness and comfort.
After closing her eyes, Jess shifted and murmured, then she rolled over and flopped a warm arm across her waist as she rested her head on Michael’s shoulder. It was the most exquisite and painfully wonderful thing Michael had ever experienced. Realizing this might be the only time in her life she would be able to hold Jess closely, Michael tightened her arm around Jess’s shoulder. Jess’s nearness was like an addictive drug, and Michael could not kick the habit no matter how hard she tried. Michael lifted her hand and stroked Jess’s silken hair as she inhaled the scent of sunshine and outdoors and the smell that was so uniquely Jess. Dipping her head, she placed a tender kiss on Jess’s forehead.
After what felt like a dog’s age, Jess again murmured and shifted in her sleep, moving to the other side of the bed. Michael missed her warmth the moment she moved away but knew it was for the best. Enjoying the feel of Jess in her arms for too long was not a good idea. This insanity had to stop. Her new opportunity in New York had come not a moment too soon.
Michael turned her head to look at Jess. She faced the window, so Michael was unable to see her face, but her steady breathing told Michael she was still fast asleep. Her heart sank as she stared at the back of Jess’s head. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes to stop her tears, and she rolled over away from Jess and shut her eyes. Sleep eluded Michael. Finally, near dawn, she got up and went in search of something to occupy her thoughts.
*
The next morning Jess awoke refreshed and well-rested. Light spilled through the soft lace curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. It must be near noon. Jess was surprised she showed no signs of a hangover, as she had drunk more wine yesterday than she had in months.
Putting her arms above her head, she stretched and yawned, enjoying not having to get up to get ready for work. As she came fully awake, she realized that Michael was not in the bed next to her. Across the room a towel lay draped across a chair. She must have showered and left the house early. It was quiet, and Jess assumed she was alone. She was glad Michael and Annabel would have some time alone together.
In no hurry to get out of bed, Jess pulled the covers under her chin and replayed yesterday’s afternoon at the cove. They had talked for hours and reminisced about things they hadn’t thought about in years, like the time they had borrowed Annabel’s truck to go mudding in the middle of the night one summer in tenth grade. The next day, when Annabel had made them wash the truck inside and out, they could hardly stop laughing. Michael promised Jess it was worth the two weeks of laundry and extra yard work she had received as punishment.
Jess’s mind flew to the sight of Michael stripping down to her briefs and sports bra by the shore. The sight was breathtaking and it almost seemed to Jess it was happening in slow motion, as if she was in an erotic lesbian film, the muscles in Michael’s arms and stomach bunching as she removed her clothes.
Much to Jess’s disappointment, Michael had not shed all of her clothes. Jess knew it would seem strange for her to insist that Michael undress completely, so she bit her tongue. It was a catch-22, since imagining Michael’s nude body aroused her almost as much as she was sure the real thing would.
The serene beauty of the cove and the small waterfall helped Jess relax; the wine helped too. Maybe too much. Why on earth was she asking Michael questions about her love life? In truth, she wanted to be certain Michael didn’t have an immediate interest in anyone. The last thing she wanted was to put Michael in an awkward situation if she was dating someone. Jess didn’t want to think of herself as “the other woman” who stole Michael from some sweet, unsuspecting girl. Jess knew that since they had such a close-knit group of friends, she would know if Michael was seeing someone, even casually. Rationality aside, she couldn’t help asking. It did not escape her attention how evasive Michael had been when answering.
A sudden stab of jealousy at the thought of Michael on a romantic, candlelit date drew her from the warmth of the bed. Jess grabbed her toiletries and towel and headed for the bathroom. As she turned to the antique claw-foot tub and began to run the water, she remembered the last part of their conversation before leaving the cove.
Did Michael really find her sexy? Of course, as a friend she had to say something nice. Even if she didn’t think Jess was “sexy,” Michael was not the type of person to hurt someone’s feelings if it could be avoided. Was she just sparing her feelings? Or did Michael really find her attractive?
Her mind flashed back to the kiss they shared in Michael’s loft. The look in her eyes then would suggest she definitely found Jess sexy. But a lot of things seem different when someone drinks as much as Michael had that night. As she felt the water warming under her hand, she decided against a shower and plugged the tub so she could enjoy a hot bath.
Trying to think about the situation as clearly as possible, Jess began to examine the facts as she sank into the tub. The most obvious fact was that she could now admit her attraction to Michael. She could hardly be in the same room with her without a flood of arousal rushing her insides. The next undisputable fact was that she and Michael had kissed. Jess tried not to embellish that fact with words like earth shattering, mind blowing, or miraculous. Thirdly, Michael had said she found Jess sexy. At this thought Jess’s mind began to race. Not pretty, or cute, or nice, which were words she was used to hearing describe her. But sexy. What exactly did she mean by sexy? Sexy implied something sexual. Sex. Sex between them? Sex with Michael?
“Ah!” Jess groaned and sank under the water. What the hell am I doing?
*
The last day in Dogwood Bluff passed slowly and leisurely. Michael had spent most of the morning with Annabel in town. They visited Mrs. Simpson at the fabric store because Annabel planned to make a tablecloth for her newly redecorated dining room. She was relieved to return back to the house and have some time to relax before going back to Atlanta. As much relaxation as she could get considering all the thoughts and feelings racing through her.
While Michael had enjoyed their weekend getaway, her nerves were on edge and she was in a borderline state of arousal at all times. Before arriving in Dogwood Bluff, Michael had been nervous about the thought of leaving the comforts of her loft for two months to work in New York, but now she was seeing it as more of a break from the pain of being so close to Jess. Her mind felt totally in control, but her body betrayed her every conviction at the sight of Jess in a sundress. Or standing on her tiptoes to reach something from a cabinet while wearing shorts. Or Jess waking with her hair all messy, as it might look after a night of heated lovemaking.
No.
No, it was definitely time for a break from Atlanta. And Jess.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Thanks for dinner, Mom, the meatloaf was delicious. You should let me cook for you sometime. Give yourself a rest,” Michael said, drying the last dish and putting it away. As it was their last night together, Annabel had opted to sit at the kitchen table while Michael and Jess cleaned.
“You’re right, Michael. That microwave doesn’t get enough use.” Annabel smirked as she patted Michael on the shoulder and headed for the den.
After wringing out the sponge and placing it back in the sink, Jess dried her hands on a small towel and began to follow Annabel to the living room so they could all talk before bed.
“I, um, think I’m going to turn in.” Michael stood by the table with her hands in her pockets, letting Annabel and Jess precede her into the hallwa
y.
Jess and Annabel both turned to stare. “It’s only nine thirty, dear, are you ill?” Annabel’s brows knitted in concern as she walked over to Michael and placed her hand on Michael’s forehead, feeling for fever.
“I’m fine. Just a little headache. You two sit and talk. Don’t worry about me,” she replied with a small wink, heading down the hall toward the stairs.
Jess stared after Michael for a moment, missing her. Was the headache an excuse to get away from Jess? Jess could feel the tension, but she figured it was one-sided. Until now, Michael hadn’t seemed to shy away from her or act strange. Michael had also made no attempt to discuss the kiss, and Jess assumed she had forgotten about it. Or at least she wasn’t thinking about it. Or reliving it.
Jess felt like a thirteen-year-old girl worshipping some celebrity who would never know she existed. But Michael did know she existed. They had existed together all day at the cove, just the two of them. With a warm blanket of sunshine and intimacy surrounding them. What was going through Michael’s head?
“Well, come on, sweetie. Let’s have girl talk,” Annabel said with a slight giggle as she took Jess by the hand. Jess followed her down the long hall, passing the pictures of Michael on the wall. Annabel took a seat in her favorite chair with an array of decorating magazines on the table within easy reach. Jess plopped down on the rug near Cricket, who was wagging his tail on the dog bed. As she stroked his warm, soft ear, he panted and rolled onto his back.
“Tell me, Jess, do you have someone?” Annabel glanced at Jess over the rim of her reading glasses as she picked up a magazine.
Jess was surprised by the question; she figured Annabel had no interest in her romantic life, or lack thereof. “No, I don’t.”
“Well, you will always have Michael. She loves you so dearly. Always has.” Annabel began skimming the pages of a Southern decorating magazine, keeping her tone casual.
Jess smiled. She was glad Annabel understood how important their friendship was. “We are best friends. I don’t see that changing any time soon.” At this statement, Jess almost sighed out loud. How could she do anything to jeopardize their friendship? Just because of some stupid attraction she couldn’t get past? She felt stupid and foolish for going back and forth in her own mind about what she was going to do, when the fact was, she and Michael did share a friendship that could never be replicated. Was she willing to risk that?
“Best friends,” Annabel repeated. It wasn’t a question. It was more as if she was making sure Jess had chosen the right words. Annabel looked Jess in the eyes for a long moment, and then added, “Yes, you are.” The conversation turned to more trivial things like redecorating and what Annabel’s next projects would be.
Jess was only half listening. What did Annabel mean by this little conversation? Did Annabel want there to be more between her and Michael? Did Annabel want Michael to settle down? It occurred to Jess that Annabel must have some sort of woman in mind that she would want Michael to end up with. Was Jess anything like that woman?
Following a lengthy conversation about reupholstering living room furniture, Jess bid Annabel good night and headed toward the bedroom. She opened the door and slipped inside, torn between wanting Michael to be awake and wanting her to be dead asleep. Letting her eyes adjust to the darkness, she went to her duffel bag and pulled out her pajamas. After brushing her teeth and securing her hair in a loose bun, Jess shuffled to the bed.
Nervous, she stopped before pulling back the thick quilt. Jess stared at Michael’s sleeping form. Was this what it would be like? Joining Michael in bed every night? Would she want Jess to cuddle up to her and hold her while they slept? Would Michael stay up to finish working and join her in bed after she had fallen asleep? Would they sleep nude, wrapped in each other’s arms?
Shaking off her nerves and telling herself she needed to be an adult about this, she fluffed her pillow and pulled back the blanket. Her breath caught and she bit her bottom lip as she caught sight of Michael in her sports bra and basketball shorts. Michael had one arm above her head and the other was resting lightly on top of the blanket at her side. Jess’s eyes followed the path of her arm down to the curve of her breasts to her stomach. The darkness in the room cast shadows on the dips and valleys of her muscles and the soft swell of her breasts. Her skin was so smooth and begged to be touched.
A sudden rush of warmth ran through Jess’s body and settled between her legs. She had never in her life been this easily, or frequently, aroused. Just one kiss from Michael’s perfectly formed mouth and she was a puddle of mush whenever they were in the same room.
Jess couldn’t help but notice that Michael used to wear the same thing to sleep in when they were young teenagers. A sports bra and basketball shorts. She recalled looking at Michael’s body many times before and wishing she had been as comfortable with her own. Older now and more accepting of her body, she was comfortable with it. But Michael’s body was lean and toned with no imperfections that she could notice. Hard and flat where her own was round with soft curves. Jess eased herself down on the bed. She sat on her knees facing Michael for a moment, just staring.
Would she wake up if I touch her?
Jess extended her hand toward Michael’s stomach. As her fingers began to shake, she pulled back. Looking at Michael’s skin again, she nearly broke down. Her emotions were all over the place. I just have to touch her. Just this once. Jess slowly extended her hand again and drew in a deep, steadying breath. Letting her fingertips rest on Michael’s skin, she glanced at Michael’s face to make sure she wasn’t stirring. Jess continued to caress Michael’s abdominal muscles with a feather-light touch, afraid she might wake her. What on Earth would she say if Michael did wake up? I was just caressing you in your sleep and hoped you wouldn’t notice!
Jess again looked up at Michael’s sleeping face and saw no signs of her waking up. Flattening her palm, she laid it flat on Michael’s stomach. Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, she tried to calm her racing heart. If only she could move her hand higher and cup Michael’s breast. If only she could wake her with kisses and make love to her all night the way she wanted to. The way she realized she had always wanted to make love to her.
The comprehension of her true feelings for Michael washed over her like a bucket of ice water. I’ve always been in love with her. Always.
Jess snatched her hand away and scooted off the bed, facing away from Michael. She rubbed her hands over her face and through her hair as she fought a queasy feeling rising in her throat. It all made perfect sense. Why Jess never wanted to hear about the women Michael was involved with. Why she rarely dated, and when she did, she compared each woman to Michael. Why her friendship with Michael was the most important thing in her life.
A feeling of foolishness and naivety came over her. She had been in love with Michael all this time and never even realized it. All these years she spent waiting for the right person to come along, when the right person had been Michael. Wonderful memories of Michael began rushing through her mind. Staring at Michael’s eyes as she sketched her portrait more times that she could count, sleeping next to Michael as a young teen when they had sleepovers, Michael always being there for her no matter what she needed. Jess felt ill.
Michael didn’t feel this way about her. She would not even acknowledge that something as innocent as a kiss had transpired between them. Michael didn’t want her, she could have anyone. Women constantly hit on Michael. She was kind, beautiful, strong. Everything a woman would want in a partner. Everything Jess wanted in a partner. What did Jess have to offer someone like Michael? She was about to leave for New York to complete a commission that would most likely launch her career.
“And I’m just a lonely school teacher,” Jess whispered to herself in a half-joking tone. She sank onto the bed without looking at Michael. Jess had been kidding herself about this attraction to Michael. Deep down she always knew that their friendship would change as Michael’s success as an artist grew. She w
anted nothing more than to see Michael live her dreams of becoming a successful sculptor, even if it did affect their friendship, but she hadn’t thought she would lose the love of her life in the process. There was no way Michael returned her feelings, and there was no way a relationship was in their future.
*
“Michael, I don’t know how you wear jeans in this weather. It’s hot as blue blazes out here!” Annabel complained as she sat down in a rocking chair next to Michael and handed her a glass of sweet tea. The glass had already begun to sweat in the warm morning air, and Michael drew shapes with her finger in the condensation. She had woken up early and packed her things, then left the house for a long walk. By the time she returned to the house around ten o’clock she needed another shower and had convinced herself the long walk was to work off the food her mother had been cooking the whole weekend and not to avoid Jess.
“I always wear jeans, Mom. It’s not that hot.” Michael felt a drop of sweat run down the back of her neck and she pulled at the collar of her worn baseball shirt.
“You little mule. You’ve always been this stubborn. I remember potty-training you. You would hide your panties in the couch cushions because you didn’t like wearing underwear. Doesn’t matter if it’s somethin’ you don’t want to do, or somethin’ you don’t want to accept. You just dig your heels in.” Annabel spoke with a harsh tone, but her eyes were smiling.