by Lynn Galli
“No, you were going to tell me about yours.” I grinned back at her, loving how even her diversion tactics made her more attractive. Actually, loving a lot about her but knowing it wasn’t the right time to say it.
“Lots of pleading, weeping, and finally, bribery,” she listed with such a serious face I almost bought it.
“How’d you choose University of Chicago?” She glanced away, eyes flicking to each of the nearby patrons.
I was getting better at figuring out what topics would give her pause, but I hadn’t guessed this one would. Regret snuck in, but I knew our relationship couldn’t move forward if there were off-limits topics. Not the kind of relationship we had. “It’s a good school,” she started before her eyes returned to mine. “But mostly, I was eligible for more scholarships at state schools as a ward of the state. I was accepted elsewhere, but federal financial aid had its limits.”
Oh, crap, I hadn’t thought of that. I watched her expression, but she didn’t seem to be saddened by what she’d shared. This was only the third conversation we’d had about her childhood after foster care. Her years in the juvenile detention center hadn’t been good, sometimes violent in fact, but compared to the horror she faced in foster care, it was far better. Her only saving grace during that time had been her social worker. Against regulations, but probably due to the guilt she’d felt over placing M in that foster home, she’d sign her out of the center every other Saturday for the day. She’d drop her off in town where M would spend part of her day volunteering at the school for the deaf and the rest at a dojo where she’d bartered for jujitsu lessons in exchange for cleaning the dojo. As wonderful a break as those Saturdays must have been, I honestly didn’t know if I would have survived without going insane. I’d already admired her strength before I knew any of the details, now I was constantly astounded.
As I was contemplating a response, I felt a soft touch on the hand I had resting on the table. Looking down, I saw two of M’s fingers rubbing a circle on the back of my hand. I glanced up at her with a smile.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. She was telling me that I shouldn’t feel bad about the fact that my college prep years had been worlds better than hers. “Like I said, it was a good school. So was U of I for undergrad. They would have been in my top ten even if I hadn’t been limited in my choices.”
“I agree, two very good schools.” I lost a little focus when she pulled her hand back. Her touches were always too brief. “You must have had terrific SAT scores.”
Color tinted her cheeks as she glanced away again. Her eyes widened, and she sat up straighter, that protective shield I’d come to recognize dropped into place.
Before I could turn to see what brought it on, I heard, “Oh, hey, Briony, is that you?”
Cringing, I twisted my head and watched disaster date, Rachel, approach with none other than immature date, Erin.
“Hello, Rachel. How are you, Erin?”
Rachel slid an arm around Erin’s shoulders and drew her in with a mock accusing stare. “You two know each other?”
“Jessie introduced us,” Erin told her, either outright lying or forgetting that it was Caroline who introduced us.
Rachel grinned at Erin before turning a smirk my way. “That’s right, you had a thing with Jessie, didn’t you? But then again, who didn’t, right?” She laughed at what she thought was a joke. I wanted to slap the smirk off her face. Neither she nor Erin had been with Jessie, as they were so eager to share with me, so what the hell did she have to feel smug about?
Her phone rang, interrupting my surely rude response. She unclipped the phone from its handy and oh, so attractive belt holster. “Go,” she said by way of greeting.
Unreal! She’d actually gotten more obnoxious. Erin didn’t seem to mind, though, so maybe they were made for each other.
Although, she wasn’t bashful about checking out my date.
“We gotta go, baby,” Rachel told her as she flipped the phone closed and clicked it onto her belt. “Kat and Kim are waiting for us outside the theater. Erin likes Tarantino as much as me,” she boasted, and I refrained from telling her that she shouldn’t be thrilled that Erin liked a film director as much as she liked Rachel, but only because I doubted she’d understand grammatical humor. It was then that she noticed M and muttered, “Hope you like kids.” Her head nodded in my direction to indicate what she thought of as my handicap.
M blinked twice before leveling her gaze at Rachel. “Got six of ‘em myself.”
I couldn’t hold in the burst of laughter at M’s dry delivery and the blank stares we received. I knew it was rude to laugh at them, but oh, how sweet it was to finally find a woman who was a perfect fit after suffering through the dates with these two.
Rachel’s glare turned scornful. “Enjoy the rug rats.” She grabbed Erin’s hand to drag her from the restaurant. But before disappearing past the hostess stand, Erin turned back and made a “call me” gesture with her hand and fingers.
Gaawwd! I shook my head and scoffed before focusing on M, hoping she wouldn’t be too upset by the odd interruption. I found her biting her lip, trying hard to keep in a full blown smile.
“Did that woman just ask you to call her while she was in the middle of another date?”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I was as astounded by Erin’s behavior as M seemed to be. By both of them, actually. I tossed my hands up. “I believe I told you that my friends didn’t have a clue about me when they decided to fix me up. Those two were exhibits one and three.”
“Wow, I guess I should consider myself lucky that you were still available after quality dates like them.”
“I’m the one who’s lucky,” I admitted more seriously than I’d originally intended. It was meant as a play on her usual return of compliments, but as I was saying it, I knew how true it was.
“Me, too.” She held my gaze for a moment longer before signaling for the check. “Want to take a walk or do you need to get back to relieve the sitter?”
I loved that she wanted to continue the date even more than I loved her understanding about my situation with Caleb. Since this was relatively new and we were still feeling our way through this unusual relationship, I didn’t think it was right to tell Caleb just yet. “Let’s walk for a bit.”
We headed outside after only a minor squabble over whose turn it was to pay for dinner. She won by distracting me with a tug on my arm to get me moving out the door. That touch could make me agree to anything, even if it was my turn to pay.
Outside, we strolled through the historic district, peeking into storefronts and enjoying the balmy fall evening. After a few blocks, we took a seat on a bench near Court Square. I got comfortable, bringing a knee up so I could face her. Her elbow propped up on the backrest then her hand came down to grip my shoulder, fingers drawing lazy patterns through my blouse.
I fought a shiver at the hypnotizing feeling. “About those women,” I started because I wanted to clear the air.
“Briony.” She gripped my shoulder, her tone telling me I didn’t have to say anything.
“No, I want you to know. That afternoon we ran into each other in the coffee shop,” I waited for her to nod at the memory, “that was actually the best of the six setups, and I didn’t enjoy anything about it.”
A soft smile stretched her lips wide. “I should say I’m sorry to hear that.”
A matching smile tugged at my mouth. “I’m glad you won’t. And the ‘thing’ with Jessie—”
The hand gripping my shoulder popped off and waved as she turned away. She definitely didn’t want to hear this. I didn’t need to read her mind to know that.
Still, I had to get this out. She deserved to know the truth.
“We dated for almost two months. Dated, that’s it. Jessie broke it off before it progressed to the next level because she knew I wasn’t ready for anything more. I was never more relieved in my life.” Her eyes snapped back to mine, widening at the revelation.
Guess ev
en she’d heard about Jessie’s reputation prior to dating me. “Okay.” She nodded, looking away briefly before refocusing on my eyes. The hand came back to touch my cheek then slid feathery fingertips down along the column of my neck.
I bit back the groan that threatened to escape. “Feels nice.” She smiled and reached out with her other hand to grasp my wrist. Her eyes flicked to where she gripped me then back up to my eyes. I could read her expression as clearly as if she’d spoken her request. We’d tried this reciprocation every time we’d gotten together since that day in her classroom. On the first four attempts, she’d lied to me like she had the first time. But on the fifth, I knew she hadn’t felt any pain from my touch. That had been a week ago. I still waited for her to instigate my touching her and would until her touch became automatic, but I was fine with that arrangement.
I raised my hand up to cup her face. She smiled as soon as our skin touched. Not able to resist, I slid my fingers into her hair.
“I knew it would be really soft. Did I mention the other day how much I liked your haircut? It always looks nice, but I didn’t want you to think that I’m a lousy girlfriend who doesn’t notice or forgets to compliment you when you change your hair.” That lethal smile flared, and her head ducked down to hide the blush. I realized it was the first time I’d called her my girlfriend and both of us apparently liked the sound of it.
“Thanks, but I cut it a lot, so I’m officially letting you off the hook for future comments.”
“I noticed, every three weeks or so—wait, did you say you cut it or you get it cut?” My fingers tightened on her scalp when I realized what she’d said. The haircut was precise, no mistakes.
Surely, she couldn’t be that proficient.
“You’re the first person to touch my hair in twenty-five years.” Or maybe she could be. I wondered if I’d ever get over the urge to cry whenever she told me something about her past. She didn’t want or need that, though, so I did the next best thing. “It looks beautiful, M. It always looks beautiful, and I’m impressed that you can do it yourself. I should make you my barber.”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin with a style like yours, and I wouldn’t want you to come after me with scissors if I screwed up.” She smiled and reached up to grasp my hand, pulling it down with a gentle squeeze.
“Fine, but I want to watch you cut your hair sometime. I can’t believe you don’t mess up on the back.” For a moment, what looked like panic skipped across her face.
Her head turned as if to break away from the topic with a physical movement. “Well…anyway.”
Yet another time when I’d inadvertently stumbled on a subject or request that made her uncomfortable. I’d have to think about why this one had, but it only added to her intrigue. “So, your SAT scores? They were good, weren’t they?” She laughed, the panic and discomfort completely abandoned at my intentional diversion. “Enough to get in.” Probably a perfect score, I thought upon hearing her modest response. As I watched her cheeks turn pink, I realized I guessed right. “Holy cow, you aced it, didn’t you? Probably the GMAT, too? Jesus, woman, what are you doing with a moron like me? A perfect score? Unreal.”
She shook her head and exhaled a sharp breath. “You’re the one who’s smart…and beautiful.” Her hand reached for mine again, giving it a brief squeeze. “And perfect.” Yep, good date. Absolutely the best. Worth suffering through all those lousy ones.
Chapter 31
A few weeks after Quinn had issued the invitation, M and I found ourselves sitting around Willa and Quinn’s dining room table. I was fairly certain the delay in getting our schedules linked up had been a relief for M, but I found myself enjoying both the food and the company. Other than the dinner I’d shared with them when I was seeing Jessie, I’d never spent time with the twosome alone. I could see why M got along with Willa so well and how Quinn and Jessie were best friends.
“This was delicious,” M offered to Quinn. She’d bravely stepped out of her shell all night long. I couldn’t be prouder of her.
“I’m glad you liked it, and I’m happy you came over tonight.”
“She was a little worried you wouldn’t,” Willa offered in a stage whisper, setting off a smile from her friend.
“You two are always having fun when I’m not around. I wanted in on the fun,” Quinn insisted, reaching around her partner’s shoulders for a squeeze.
“M keeps me from only talking to the dogs when you’re on your road trips, Quinnie. You should be thanking her for my sanity.”
“Thank you, M,” Quinn deadpanned.
The front doorbell rang while we were laughing. Quinn excused herself, mentioning that she was expecting her assistant coach to drop off the playbook. To our surprise, she returned with Jessie and Lauren in tow. I felt M go rigid in her seat beside me.
“Hi, everyone.” Lauren’s characteristic joy glowed. “We were headed out to a movie and thought we’d stop by to see if Quinn and Will wanted to come along.”
“Hi, Bri, M, good to see you both.” Jessie beamed at me. If everyone wasn’t focusing on her, I thought she might wink at me in an obvious manner. “Laur, I don’t think you’ve met M
Desiderius. M, this is my partner, Lauren Aleric.” Lauren’s eyes blinked in surprise and a sly smile spread across her beautiful face. She gave me an eyebrow flutter before returning her gaze to my date. “Nice to meet you, M.”
“And you,” M managed softly.
“Join us for dessert?” Quinn offered.
Just then, I felt a pressure on my thigh and looked down to find M gripping me almost like a lifeline. This was the first time she’d touched anything other than my face, neck, or arms. As much as I wanted to enjoy the sensation, I knew this meant that M had started to panic.
Willa must have noticed her friend’s unease because she responded before they could. “We don’t want you to miss your movie.”
Jessie studied us for a moment, probably guessing why Willa was politely suggesting they leave. “Yeah, you’re dying to see this thing, Blue.” She wrapped an arm around Lauren’s waist and dropped a kiss on her cheek.
“Like you aren’t? She’s just embarrassed to admit that she loves romantic comedies, aren’t ya, toughie?” Lauren cuffed her shoulder. “We can see it anytime, though. I’d like the chance to get to know you, M, seems like I’m the only one who doesn’t.” The hand tightened before M met her gaze. “That would be nice, Lauren.”
Bravery comes in all forms, and my girlfriend had an abundance. Her hand pulled back as Jessie and Lauren settled around the table. The next hour was one of the nicest I’d spent in a long time. Definitely better than the time I’d been there and they’d ambushed me with a blind date.
“Did you have fun tonight, honey,” I asked while stepping out of the car in her parking garage after returning from dinner.
“I always have fun when I’m with you,” she replied sweetly, coming around to meet me.
I pressed back against the car, taking a moment to compose myself. Sometimes she could floor me with her tenderness.
“Are you okay, Bri?”
“Very.” I smiled, hoping she could tell how elated I was by everything she did and said.
“Coffee?” She gestured to the elevators.
Since Caleb was at a birthday party, I nodded and headed toward the elevators with her. We stepped inside, and she hit the third floor button then settled in as close to me as she could without actually touching. Before we’d gone up a floor, the most amazing feeling pinned me in place. The softest touch slid across my palm until it molded into a perfect fit. M’s hand pressed against mine as her fingers curled around to grasp the back of my hand. I nearly jumped with surprise. She was holding my hand, not just touching it but holding my hand.
After another floor, I waited for her to pull back because her touches never lasted as long as I wished. Instead, I felt the glorious sensation of her other hand curling around the inner crook of my elbow. There was no mistaking this gesture.
Our hands melted together, fingers alternately pressing to grasp more firmly, thumbs bravely rubbing along knuckles and at the base of wrists. I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact, fearing the reality of her action might force her to stop and return to our separateness.
The ding of the elevator brought with it a sense of dread. I’d been sending signals for it to slow down, get stuck, anything to keep this long anticipated moment from ending. The elevator paid me no heed. Too soon, we arrived on her floor.
As the doors slid open, I held my breath preparing for the ache that would surely follow when she dropped my hand. Her side brushed against me as she stepped forward out of the elevator. I loosened my fingers because I didn’t want to experience the awkwardness of her fighting to release her hand. In response, she laced her fingers through mine.
She’s not letting go! my heart sang when I felt the gentle tug of her hand. With a giant step, I was back at her side walking closer to her than I’d ever been allowed. It was a heady experience gliding down the hallway with our arms looped together, hands linked as one. I couldn’t remember the last time holding hands with a woman had been so rewarding, had been enough to delight me, excite me, sate me. That there might be something more intimate between two people never entered my mind.
We slowed as we reached her apartment door. She pulled out her keys and, with a noticeable tremor, unlocked her door to bring us inside. Two steps in, she stopped and turned back as the door closed behind me. I got the impression she’d been reacting to what she wanted this whole time. Now, her mind was taking over. She made eye contact for the first time since reaching for my hand. Her eyes lowered to my mouth and a flush tainted her cheeks.
Nerves released from a tight bundle and bounced around my stomach, making me feel like a human pinball machine. My heart pounded with ferociousness when her eyes purposefully went back to study my lips. I tried to keep my gaze level, not betraying how much I wanted to kiss her. To let her know that I’d be happy to stand here all night holding her hand.