“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Gemma.” Caitlin swung one leg up onto the comforter, turning to face Gemma earnestly.
Gemma sat expressionless, eyes fixed on the floor, and Caitlin ached to know what she was thinking.
Finally, Gemma met Caitlin’s eyes. “These last few weeks have been the hardest of my life. The breakup was painful, but seeing you again after all these years—still without an explanation for what happened between us—has been killing me.”
Caitlin watched a tear slip down Gemma’s cheek. Without thinking, she lifted her hand and brushed the tear away with her thumb, the motion familiar and automatic. Seeing the misery in Gemma’s eyes, usually warm with honey, made something in her clench. Before Caitlin could pull her hand away, Gemma leaned into her palm, small and trembling, and time shrank to the size of the single, honest moment.
Caitlin cupped her cheek softly and said, “I’m sorry for how hard this has been for you. I know it’s my fault.”
Gemma stayed quiet, waiting to hear what else Caitlin had to say.
Caitlin slowly removed her hand, placing it back into her own lap. “I wasted that whole summer when we were sixteen,” she said, her voice raw. “I’m ashamed of it to this day. My feelings for you were stronger than I was, and I pushed you away because I was terrified of what they would mean.”
Gemma shifted her body, finally looking directly into Caitlin’s eyes. She waited for Caitlin to go on.
“When we went back to school that year, and I saw you at soccer practice… black and gold Westmore tracksuit, hair immaculately slicked-back, I lost my damn mind. I had thought about you every day that summer. Even after three months without talking, I nearly passed out the first time I saw you again. You, all breathless and sweaty in your soccer uniform—that was always my kryptonite.”
Gemma giggled, softening as she seemed to remember Caitlin using the exact phrase throughout high school.
“I felt like such an idiot after I let you leave my house that day. I should have answered your messages. No, I should have been the one to reach out in the first place.Ikissedyou. And God, Gemma, I wish I had chased you down the street and told you how much that kiss meant to me. But I was just a kid, for God’s sake, and I was confused about having feelings for you while I was with Troy. But Gemma, from the second you crashed into me, I knew. I’m sorry that I kept trying to run from it—from you.”
Caitlin reached for Gemma’s hand. “Even now, you mean more to me than anyone in this world.”
Gemma stood and wrenched her hand free, retreating back into the dim lounge as she searched for air. Privacy shades drawn, the only light came from a few weak yellow bulbs overhead. It gave the illusion of being much later in the day than it actually was, the trailer becoming a hazy capsule existing outside of time itself. Closing her eyes, Gemma tried to steady her breathing.
Hearing soft footsteps behind her, Gemma turned, jaw clenched. “You can’t say things like that to me, Caitlin.” Her voice trembled. “It’s not fair.”
“I can’t help it. It’s how I feel.” Caitlin felt her chest crack open again as she watched pain flash across Gemma’s face like a blade.
Caitlin didn’t know what took over her then, but she suddenly needed Gemma with an urgency she had never felt before. Needed to hold her, comfort her, caress her. She didn’t know how else to convey the ache in her chest. She closed the short distance and reached for Gemma, threading her fingers into Gemma’s dark hair as she pulled her in for a kiss.
Caitlin swallowed the surprise on Gemma’s face, and for a heartbeat, Gemma kissed her back. It didn’t last—Gemma pushed Caitlin away and took a step back, panting and glaring.
Desire flooded Caitlin as they faced off, filling every empty hollow of her being. She wanted Gemma’s mouth on hers for longer than a stolen moment. She wanted to press her palm to Gemma’s bare skin and rememorize its warmth. She was tired of feeling guilty, tired of rehashing the past. This tension couldn’t be released bytalking.
“Why?” Gemma asked, chest heaving, fingers brushing her swollen bottom lip. “Why can’t you just let me go?” Her voice cracked with despair.
“Gemma, I still—” Before Caitlin could finish, Gemma closed the gap between them and crushed their lips together.
Caitlin felt the world tilt beneath her.
Gemma wrapped her fingers around Caitlin’s neck. Caitlin tightened her arms around Gemma’s waist. Without breaking the kiss, Gemma backed them toward the couch until Caitlin’s legs hit the cushion and she sank down. Gemma followed, straddling her thighs. Caitlin hadn’t remembered this dominant side of Gemma—she liked it.
Their lips, then tongues, met in a flurry of raw passion. Gemma trailed kisses down the side of Caitlin’s neck before licking her way across the sensitive skin below her jawline.
Mmm. God, she had always loved it when Gemma did that.
Gemma gently tugged Caitlin’s earlobe between her teeth before whispering three short words.
“Fuck me, Caitlin.”
Caitlin pulled away slightly, meeting Gemma’s eyes intently. “Are you sure?”
Please say yes.
“Yes.” It came out in a whimper as Gemma bit down softly on her lower lip. That was all Caitlin needed to hear.
Gemma had intoxicated her from the day they met. After years of missing out on this high, Caitlin didn’t have to be told twice.
