by Harper Bliss
They kissed again, more deeply this time, with more intention. A proper kiss goodnight, holding a firm promise for what was to come.
The driver flashed the headlights again, making Amber feel too self-conscious to stay locked in their embrace.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said, and walked to the car.
Chapter Twelve
“Is it too soon to be falling in love?” Martha was feeling nineteen years old instead of fifty-four. She had deliberately walked over to the gender studies department to find Sheryl so she could brighten up her day by talking about Amber and the amazing second date they’d had.
“It’s never too soon.” Sheryl grinned.
Martha sank down a little more into her chair. “It just sounds so silly when I say it out loud.”
“That’s because it is, but it’s the greatest, best silliness that exists in this world.”
Martha chuckled. “I’m so glad you’re not giving me some big feminist theory about this.”
“I’ll save those for pontificating about the choices our esteemed Vice-Chancellor has made in his love life.”
“This week, I haven’t minded running into him as much as before. And it doesn’t grate on my nerves as much when I get an email from his office. Everything suddenly seems so much easier.”
“So you are falling in love.”
Martha pulled up her shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s pre-falling in love. Recognizing the possibility is there. Everything is still open and there’s also this delicious tension in the air. I think the days between dates two and three are the most enjoyable. Up to now, I mean. There are fewer doubts than after date one. And then there was that kiss.” Martha didn’t say how she had barely been able to fit the key in the lock of her front door after watching Amber’s car drive off, because she was so excited. Because of all the emotion and anticipation that came with the kiss. Next time she wouldn’t let Amber drive off. Not without a little something more than a kiss—a spectacular one, but a mere kiss nonetheless.
“I’ve known Amber for quite a few years now and I’ve never seen her with anyone. It always struck me as odd. I always saw her as a real catch,” Sheryl said.
“She has a mysterious vibe going on. She’s not exactly an open book, but she reveals a little bit more every time.” Martha knew there was a big thing Amber wasn’t telling her. Amber had hinted at it herself. The story of the woman who had broken her heart so badly it had made her retreat from the deliciousness of romance for long years.
“I want a full report this time next week.” Sheryl plastered a wide smile on her face. “Well, perhaps minus a few details.”
“We’ll see.” They sat in silence for a few minutes. Martha had no idea what Sheryl was thinking about, but her mind was filled to the brim with one image only. Amber’s glossy ginger hair. The freckles on her nose. The hint of ab when she twisted her torso in a certain way. The endless kindness in her green eyes. The way she blushed so easily. Even the hesitance with which she approached certain things—which included dating Martha—was endearing to Martha in that moment. Maybe she had fallen prey to the utmost silliness and she was falling in love already.
Chapter Thirteen
Amber rang Martha’s bell, a bunch of flowers in hand. Part of her felt insecure like a teenager would, but the other part couldn’t wait for Martha’s lovely presence to appear in the doorframe.
“Hi.” Martha threw the door wide and then her arms wider. She had dressed up in a shiny pair of black pants and a very revealing top. The darkness of her clothes contrasted with the paleness of her skin. Damn, she looked good. “Welcome to my humble home,” she said.
Amber stepped into Martha’s embrace and pressed a flutter of a kiss onto her cheek.
Martha accepted the flowers with the assured air of a woman who receives bouquets regularly and went to put them in a vase. She poured champagne after holding up the bottle and wordlessly asking for Amber’s agreement.
Martha looked deep into Amber’s eyes when they brought their glasses together for a toast. Something stirred in Amber’s stomach. It wasn’t hunger.
They sat down on the sofa and nibbled on carrot sticks dipped in a Thai-inspired sauce Martha assured her contained no animal products whatsoever. Amber trusted her completely. She looked into Martha’s intriguing eyes and she knew she would tell her about Holly tonight, because it felt like something that needed to be said before they could progress to the next stage. In fact, she would tell her now, with the liquid courage of a few sips of champagne buzzing inside of her, before they sat down at the table for dinner.
“I met her about nine months after my father died. At Mardi Gras of all places. I wasn’t going to go, because I had just stopped drinking and had started eating really healthily. I was going all out on the health front, as if a couple of months of only organic food could make up for the hundreds of pizzas that came before. Anyway, that doesn’t really matter. I met Holly at this party, caught her glance across the room, and it just floored me. We became inseparable, totally caught up in each other, moved in together after only a month—the works. The first year was great. The second year a little less so. The third year everything fell apart. Then she left.” Amber knew she would have to give a bit more information than that. She wasn’t playing the mysterious card on purpose, but it was as though, before she could tell the full story, her brain needed to go over the bullet-point version of her history with Holly first.
“It was too much. Everything about us was too much. I’d just gone on this massive health kick. I’d quit my job and was using my small inheritance to get certified as a yoga teacher. I had planned everything out carefully and allocated the funds available to me so that I would have enough to support myself until I could start teaching. Then I met Holly and I squandered it all on booze, on spontaneous trips to New Zealand and Bali, on presents for her, on a whole bunch of things we didn’t need. When we were together, it was like that. This charge in the air. I felt like everything was possible, and the fact that the money was there at that exact time made it feel even more possible.” Amber paused to drink from her champagne. It slid down remarkably easy. “We fought a lot. Made up a lot. We were really good at making up. In hindsight, I could so clearly see she was the wrong woman for me. That the two of us together short-circuited something in my brain. I didn’t just lose all the money, but all the credit I’d been working up in the yoga studio where I was training. Plus, of course, a good amount of self-respect.”
Amber cut a glance at Martha. While she was talking about Holly, she’d kept her eye firmly fixed on an invisible spot on the wall—a tried-and-tested technique from meditation.
“I knew it could never last, but the real tragedy was that I failed to accept it. Because I loved her. I adored her. To me, she was everything. In the end, she was the one to see reason. She left me. Well, not only me, she left town as well. Claiming that not even a city like Sydney was big enough for both of us. As long as we lived in the same place, we’d always drift back together. It was the nature of how we were as a couple. She left. And things got very dark for me for a while. Because not only did I lose my partner, I lost all my money and all my plans along the way.”
“That must have been really hard.” Martha exuded only kindness.
What had Amber expected anyway? That Martha would think less of her because of a failed past relationship? But that was the thing about that particular relationship: it could still, after all these years, warp her view on things so severely, that Amber always expected the worst.
“Despite losing everything, I did become a yoga teacher.” Amber didn’t enjoy puffing herself up like that, speaking of herself as though her profession in itself was an accomplishment. “Got myself healthy and balanced again. And mainly stayed away from women. There have been a few, but I’ve always been so scared to get sucked in too much.”
“She must have been quite a character if she managed to make you lose interest in the greatest thing in
the world for so long,” Martha said. “But I guess it’s good for me. There’s no way you would still be single now if you had been interested all this time. You would have found someone like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Speaking of...” She tipped her champagne glass to her mouth and drained the last of it. “Sheryl told me about you and Caitlin James.”
Amber rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about Caitlin James.”
“She’s back in Sydney.” Was that a tinge of unease in Martha’s voice? Was she jealous more than inquiring? “You’re bound to run into her.”
Amber shrugged. “I hope I do when we’re out together so I can introduce her to the wonderful woman I’m dating.” Amber’s cheeks flushed. She was really turning on the flirting.
Martha sat there smiling for a bit, then leaned in and whispered in Amber’s ear. “I’m glad you told me about Holly. It makes you less mysterious. In a good way.” Then she kissed her lightly on the cheek and said, “Shall we eat now?”
Martha had made a real effort with the food. Roasted pumpkin soup as a starter and stuffed peppers as a main.
Amber wondered what she had been thinking while she had prepared this kind of food she would otherwise not eat? Had Martha made this special effort because she liked Amber so much?
“That was truly delicious. There’s a vegan chef somewhere inside you. I just knew it.” They had finished the bottle of champagne and Amber had eagerly partaken. She was feeling all the more uninhibited for it.
“I understand that you wanted to live a healthier lifestyle, but becoming vegan is a big step.”
“I can recommend a few documentaries that would make you a vegan on the spot.” Amber accompanied her statement with a smile. She didn’t want to go all preachy on Martha. Preaching wasn’t her style anyway, no matter what Micky believed. “But aside from it aligning with my philosophical convictions, eating a plant-based diet just makes me feel really good.”
“I can’t really argue with that.” From the look on Martha’s face, Amber could tell she very much had something else than arguing on her mind.
“Will you come to dinner at my place next weekend?” Amber asked. “I’ll cook you my signature dish.”
“I would be delighted.” Martha’s smile intensified.
Amber mirrored her smile. She knew exactly what Martha was thinking because, she was convinced, she was pretty much thinking the same thing. But tonight wouldn’t be the night. Amber didn’t want to have to rush off in the morning. She wanted it to be special.
“I would love to stay tonight, I really would, but having been away for so long, I’m first in line for any replacement classes. My first one’s at eight tomorrow morning.”
“Who takes a yoga class at eight in the morning on a Sunday?” Martha asked, her smile remaining firmly in place.
“You’d be surprised.” Amber locked her gaze on Martha’s. “Maybe you should come.”
“My first class with you will not be an early Sunday morning one with a bunch of people who actually enjoy doing yoga at that time. That would just be wrong.”
Amber chuckled. “Maybe we can have that private lesson at my place next weekend.”
“Should be quite the weekend.” Martha quirked up her eyebrows.
“I should probably go now.” It wasn’t that late yet, but Amber wasn’t sure that, if she stayed much longer, she’d be able to make it to her class tomorrow. She pushed her chair back.
Martha held up two fingers and just seeing them raised up like that was enough to stop Amber in her tracks, as though they held some sort of kinetic power.
Martha rose and walked over to Amber. She pushed Amber’s chair back further and came to sit, legs astride, on Amber’s lap.
“I wouldn’t want you to forget about me,” she said. Martha pressed her lips to Amber’s cheek bone, then the middle of her cheek, before finally landing on her lips. She cradled the back of Amber’s head in cupped palms and drew her near, pushing her chest hard against Amber’s.
Not a chance of that, Amber thought.
Chapter Fourteen
“What is this? It’s surprisingly tasty.” Martha held up what her brain believed must be a piece of tofu, but her taste buds said otherwise.
“Szechuan tofu. My signature dish.” Amber sported a wide smile.
“It’s spicy but not too much.” Martha glared at the morsel of food on her fork. “With this strange numbing effect on the lips. The spice totally takes your mind off the fact you’re eating tofu. Well played.”
“I’m just glad you like it better than the food at that vegan restaurant I took you to.”
“I can barely remember it.” The food had definitely not been the most memorable part of that night.
“There will come a time when you’ll truly enjoy eating there.” Amber refilled both their wine glasses with a grin.
“Pouring excellent wine helps with everything, I guess.” Martha looked into Amber’s eyes. She was ready to amp up the flirting.
Amber kept her green gaze firmly locked on Martha’s. God, those freckles on her nose. And the myriad of them covering the skin of her arms. Martha wanted to trace every last one of them with her lips.
This was their fourth date, and although Martha believed dating wasn’t a numbers game at all, her brain was latching on to the number now. Was waiting until the fourth date taking it slow enough for Amber? She wanted to find out right about now.
“You know what?” Martha leaned back. “I don’t feel much like talking anymore.” She pushed her chair back and walked over to Amber, like she’d done last weekend at her place.
Martha pulled Amber’s chair back and straddled her lap, as though performing the same action would allow them to just pick up where they had left off. “What about you? Do you want to talk some more?”
“God no.” Amber threw her head back.
Martha leaned over and found Amber’s ear with her lips. She planted a gentle kiss on her earlobe, then bit down—not too hard, but not too gently either.
Martha gazed down into Amber’s eyes. Having taught thousands of students, surely she must have come across that particular shade of green before, but if she had, she couldn’t remember. Everything was all new with Amber. Then the knowledge that Amber had been worth waiting for seemed to hit her straight over the head. Martha ran her fingertips over the length of Amber’s arms. Over the freckles on her underarms and then the delightful, subtle bulge of her triceps.
She unbuttoned the top button of Amber’s sleeveless blouse—she sure knew how to accentuate assets such as yoga arms—and only then did she bend down to kiss her. Amber’s lips were another delicious part of her. She was glad the numbness of the Szechuan peppercorns had subsided, and she could enjoy every single second of their lips meeting. Martha tasted wine and pepper and spices and, well, just Amber. How could a simple kiss be so intoxicating already?
Martha pulled back, just to get herself in check. She wasn’t supposed to lose herself so quickly. But the look of Amber, the readiness on her face, the slight redness on her lips after the kiss, caused a weakness in Martha’s stomach, and she bent down again, losing her hands in Amber’s lush hair, which she wore loose that night, and kissed her again and again.
“I want you,” she whispered in Amber’s ear, not biting this time. “God, I do.”
In response, Amber pulled her close and they lost themselves in another kiss.
“Take me to your bedroom,” Martha urged when they broke from their kiss. She leaped off Amber and dragged her off the chair by the hand. There weren’t that many closed doors in Amber’s apartment, so she headed in the direction she guessed the bedroom was.
“Over here.” Amber’s words came out winded, as though she’d just taught a class—though Martha had actually no idea what Amber sounded like before, during or after teaching. She vowed there and then to take one of her classes as soon as possible. Just to study her more, get to know her better, and to see how she interacted with her students. She bet Amb
er was all gentleness, a well of endless understanding and words of encouragement spoken softly. Martha had been to India long ago with her ex-husband and they’d visited an ashram and she could so easily picture Amber sitting there, all serene, understanding radiating off her face, out of every pore of her body.
Martha didn’t have time to fully take in Amber’s bedroom. Moreover, it was dark and Amber didn’t switch on the light.
“Just a second,” Amber said. “I’ll light some candles.” Before she pulled her hand away from Martha’s, she planted a kiss on her palm. Amber seemed to know her way around in the dark and found a long matchstick somewhere. Its flame cast a feeble yellow light on Amber’s face, making her look angelic. She lit a tea light on the night stand, then covered it with what looked like something made of clay with holes in it, letting the light of the candle flicker through to create moody bright spots on the ceiling. Amber had the same kind of contraption on the other side of the bed and she repeated the process.
“Come here,” Martha said. The room was bathed in a soft, glimmering light. Shadows played on the walls. Martha pulled Amber toward her and toppled them both onto the bed. Oh, the sheer joy of feeling another woman’s weight melting into her body. While Martha pulled Amber’s face toward her own for another round of kissing, she rolled them to the side, until she could, not as effortlessly as she would have hoped, slip on top of Amber.
She looked down at Amber, as the candlelight shimmied across her face, lighting up a freckle here and there, and it felt like they were in some magic love castle.
Martha pushed herself up and pulled her blouse over her head, throwing it somewhere into the darkness of the room. She then focused her attention on Amber and, slowly, undid the buttons of her blouse. Though Martha should have known—of course, she should have—she wasn’t prepared for what she saw. Amber’s belly was coated with a layer of rock hard muscle. Every time she breathed, the outline of her abs became more visible, then retreated. Martha had just found another reason to do yoga, though she had never before associated yoga with an ultra-toned body like the one on display in front of her. Amber taught a couple of classes almost every day, barely drank alcohol, and only ate plant-based food. She would have abs for days. For a second, Martha was glad she’d taken off her own blouse first, fearing that after seeing this level of fitness, she would have been too self-aware to still do so.