“Sorry—did I hurt you?”
“No—just—turned me on, it’s really hot when you get forceful.”
I stared at her for a second before I snorted, something relaxing in my chest, and I buried my face against her. “I’ll take care of that, if you like.”
“I don’t think you’re in a good emotional state for that,” she said, with a tone like she didn’treallywant to protest it.
“No. But I feel more stable around you, so…” I moved again, rolling her onto her back, shoving her down into the bed and pinning her by the shoulders, and she lit up, that glow coming back into her eyes as a smile played on her lips. “Bridget,” I said, straddling her.
“Wow. Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I’m like this.”
“Pushing me down in the bed and straddling me naked?” She put a hand to her chest. “I forgive you.”
I laughed. “I have enough awareness to know not to apologize for that. Sorry I’m such a mess. Would it be unfair to you if we kept doing this? Even knowing I can’t stay like this?”
She looked at me with wide eyes for a long time before she said, “Would it be unfair to you for me to agree to that knowing I’m still going to be doing everything I can to change your mind? Because, like… I’m not confident I can keep it cool and behave myself well.”
Dammit, she really was perfect. I bent down and kissed her, and I held it for a long time before I said, “I think that’s fair.”
The part I kept to myself was that, I think on some level, I was hoping she’d succeed anyway.
“Then fair’s fair,” she said, caressing my back. “Now, um… not to ruin an important moment, but, er…”
She squirmed a little bit, moving her leg, and I grabbed her by the thigh and shoved her hard into the bed. She arched off the mattress.
“Oh—wow,” she said, eyes wide.
“Stay put and let me work out my feelings on your body,” I said, voice low, and she clasped a hand over her mouth.
“Holy shit. Wow. You got it. All yours.”
Chapter 16
Bridget
I’d gotten used to lonely Christmases. It wasn’t super fun if I thought about it too much—most of my friends were off with real-life friends or family, and everything suddenly went quiet for the day, and I always found myself drifting a little bit. I didn’t miss Christmas with my family, but I had to keep myself busy with a project on Christmas Day or I’d end up moping.
But even the saddest, most depressing lonely Christmas in the world, where I had nothing to do except stare out the window and watch minutes pass by, nothing to think of except the numb feeling in my chest—the worst Christmas had nothing on this one.
The Jameson family was chatty and lively around the table. And in front of me was a holiday taco. I stared at the plate with my stomach already turning, and I looked up for relief, finding Sam across the table giving me thatI feel youlook. I moutheddo I have toand he gave me a miserable shrug and nod, andwe picked up our tacos together. He signaled for the count of three, and I braced myself before we took simultaneous bites of penance masquerading as taco.
Merry Christmas. Jesus Christ died for our sins. I’d heard it said that He saw all humanity’s sins, past present and future, as He died on the cross, and I believed the Jameson holiday taco was the last one the Lord Jesus saw, and they were the final suffering that sent Him at last to meet the Lord Father. Surely He must have made an exception in forgiving all of humanity’s sins, because this abomination was beneath even divine mercy. I gagged on a clump of indeterminate turkey meat that felt like a piece of greasy wood in the back of my throat, and the choke turned into a burp that brought a bit of congealed cranberry turkey fat back into my mouth, and I covered my mouth to keep from vomiting, standing up too quickly.
“Oh, I—have to—bathroom,” I blurted, stumbling out of the room.
After a minute of washing my mouth out in the bathroom sink, I weighed my options, staring at my long-suffering face in the mirror. I could pretend I had an upset stomach and I needed the bathroom for a while. Maybe if I waited until they brought out dessert…?
I took my phone and texted Victoria.think something in that taco set me off! I’ll be in the bathroom for a minute, you can have mine.
I didn’t get as long as I wanted—stayed in the bathroom on my phone for a bit before there was a knock on the door, and it was Sam’s voice saying, “Bridget, look out, I think I’m gonna barf.”
I opened the door. “Stay strong, soldier,” I said, rushing out as quickly as he rushed in with a mock salute, and from the sounds he made, I don’t think he threw up, just gagged hard atthe sink. I’d give him a minute. Now it was my time to face the fire.
Nan caught me on the way back again, and I was all too happy to take the eggnog even knowing it was laced with enough rum to kill a hippo. I sipped it, the heat of the alcohol burning away the infection of taco in the back of my throat.
“So, how’d it go?” she said, in an attempt at a low conspiratorial voice, but her hearing was going a little bit, so it was kind of just a normal voice. “How’s Vicky’s new hot lesbian lifestyle?”
