“Well. Here I am telling you.”
“I think maybe I can believe it coming from you.” She kissed me.
That is—Victoria Jameson kissed me.Shekissed me. That is to say—holy shit.
She sank softly into me, wrapping her arms around me, pulling me into her, and when her lips found mine, I felt like my heart would explode—I caught her up in my arms, kissing her back with my heart soaring, and I kissed her, and I kissed her and I kissed her and nothing else mattered because this was happening, right here and now. Not as a quick fuck to explore and experiment with, but as her girlfriend.
“I missed that,” she whispered, quivering slightly as she hovered with her lips ghosting mine. I shuddered at the sensation.
“Me too.”
“I thought… when we left my mother’s house at Christmas, and I kissed you there… I thought maybe we could keep…”
“I’ve also felt like you were my girlfriend since then.”
“I guess that is what I was getting at,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I’m warning you now I’m still going to… self-sabotage. It’s something I’m working on. But not by leaving you. The last thing I want to do is hurt you in the process. That’s a promise.”
I swallowed, and I nodded, tears making my eyes prickle. “We can even keep the squares painting.”
She rested her forehead against mine. “They’re rectangles, darling.”
I laughed. “Can I take your shirt off?”
“Oh—”
“I’m so pent-up, I’ve been yearning for you for all this time and my vagina is still feeling a little sore from a live show that didn’t go too well, but I want to adore you until sunrise and thensleep for like four hours and then pick up right where we left off until I’m finally sated.”
“Wow.”
“You know, if you want to. I could wait until tomorrow. But I’ll be extra whiny tomorrow if you do.”
She laughed, pressing a quick kiss to my lips, slipping her hands under my skirt, feeling my thighs, and—you know, maybe I was actually fine to go for a round myself. “I already told you, you can get what you want from me,” she whispered. “I mean, seeing how much it’s inspired you… I’m a little bit proud of being part of that.”
I bit my lip through the biggest smile, feeling my hands up under her shirt, touching the soft, smooth skin I’d missed. My girlfriend. Damn, though. “You should be,” I said. “I can tell you right now you’re going to give me alotof inspiration.”
Epilogue
Victoria
Things had never been simple between me and my family. I hadn’t realized the full extent of it until Bridget opened my eyes—until one fateful move back home had put it all in perspective, a year ago now, which felt like just a few days and like a lifetime at the same time. I’d always known family was a sore spot for me, but I just thought… well. I thought it was like that for everyone. Thought that the sinking dread, constantly walking on eggshells and hiding who I was—thought all of it was what family always looked like. If it weren’t for Bridget, I think I’d have gone all my life existing in a halfway state between understanding and not.
But things had never been simple because there had always been these things, these little bits of joy, memories of laughing and of inside jokes and talking to them feeling like I wouldn’t be able to be that version of me with anyone else in the world. And of course there had always been ideas of home, of simplecomforts, and like here, now, gentle and relaxed Christmas dinners.
With our holiday tacos.
They had always been my comfort food. Sitting down at the table next to Bridget while they were served was like coming home, and I blissfully dug in. Bridget made a noise next to me, and she cleared her throat, coughing into her arm, and I looked over at her, my brows knotted in concern.
“Are you okay, darling?”
“Oh, yeah, just… just something on my plate. Hang on, I’m going to go wash it off in the sink.” She picked up the plate, taco and all, and Mom half-stood, reaching for it.
“I can take care of it, Bridget, sweetheart,” she said, and Bridget shook her head, eyes wide.
“Oh, no, no. I would never dream of interrupting your time with your favorite meal. Oh—Sam, I think you have it on your plate, too.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re right,” Sam said, across the table, frowning at his plate, picking at one point. I didn’t see anything there. “I’ll go with you.”
Kevin made a face at Sam as he stepped around him and headed for the kitchen, Bridget pausing to kiss my cheek as she left with the plate in hand, moving quicker than usual. I wasn’t sure why the hurry… was it a bug on her plate or something? I hadn’t seen anything, and neither had Kevin, judging by the look we exchanged, both shrugging.
