Ours had been an all-consuming teenage love, the kind of love that made me want to despair at the thought of not being with Taylor, that had me sneaking out of my grandmother’s house to meet her for moonlight kisses by the stream and fantasizing about her every moment that we weren’t together.
But I’d also been drowning in fear. There was a girl in my class who wore her hair short and dressed in masculine clothes, and I heard the way people made fun of her, the names they called her and the things they said about her behind her back. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to take it. And what if I wasn’t gay? Maybe this was just a phase some girls went through.
In the end, I’d panicked as the summer drew to a close. I was terrified of coming out to my parents, certain they’d be horrified and cause a huge scene. Taylor was already out, and I didn’t want to disappoint her, so I ran instead. I cut myself off from the girl I loved, burying my heartbreak behind a polished smile as I returned to school. I dated boys—alotof boys—but none of them made me feel anything like what I’d felt with Taylor.
I played it straight all the way through college and lost my virginity to a guy on the tennis team. It had been an underwhelming experience at best. Once I started my career as a financial analyst, working with numbers for a living, I’d finally run a cost-benefit analysis on my own life.
Was it worth it to deny who I was and what I truly wanted just to meet my parents’ expectations? By then, it was too late to patch things up with Taylor. We hadn’t spoken since we were sixteen. But once I ran the numbers and committed to something, I was all in. So I came out to my parents and started dating women. And I’d finally found peace, the kind of contentment that came from being true to myself and no longer hiding my sexuality or what I wanted.
But something had always been missing. Nothing—not even my relationship with Sabrina—had ever compared to the way it felt when Taylor kissed me, like fireworks were going off inside me, like I could lose myself in that kiss forever, warm and safe and loved. More than that.Happy.I’d been so happy that summer.
Now that I was back in Vermont, I was starting to remember just how much I’d left behind here. Not just Taylor, but my grandmother’s cabin, the piano, music, dogs, long hikes in the woods, so many things that used to bring me joy.
And maybe it was time to recapture that joy, the way Taylor had done. She was living her life just like she’d always wanted to, doing all the things that made her happy. And she was more beautiful than ever. That ache in my core had only increased during my walk down memory lane, and when I pictured Taylor’s face, I felt a throb of arousal so intense that I shoved a hand down the front of my underwear, desperate for release.
I circled my clit, and my hips bucked up to meet my hand, reminding me that I’d neglected myself since I got to Vermont, caught up in my work around the house. My vibrator was still in the duffel bag in the guest room, but right now, I was so turned on, I wasn’t even going to need it. I rolled to my belly, thrusting against my fingers as need rose up inside me like a hungry beast, overtaking my senses.
A sharp whine interrupted me, and I wrenched my eyes open to find Violet standing beside the bed, watching me.
I froze. “Shit.”
Another whine.
“Violet, go lie down.”
The dog yipped, still staring at me. Either she really had to pee, or she was a nosy weirdo. Either way, I couldn’t get myself off with her watching. With a groan, I withdrew my hand and sat up, ignoring the unsatisfied ache in my core.
“Fine,” I mumbled. “Let’s go for a walk.”
* * *
I led the way back into the house five minutes later. As it turned out, Violet had needed to go pretty urgently, so I couldn’t really fault her for her inopportune interruption. Once she was squared away, I went down the hall for a shower.
Even though I was alone in the house, I closed the bathroom door behind me, needing a few minutes away from Violet’s watchful eyes. It was an adjustment having her around, and honestly, I hoped that once she was settled, she’d give me a little more space. It was unnerving to have her underfoot all the time, quietly staring at me.
Once the water was hot, I stepped into the shower, letting it rush over my face and shoulders, washing away my frustration. A couple of shelter volunteers were coming over this afternoon to give me a crash course in puppy whelping, and then Taylor was stopping by after work to help me put down the laminate flooring. Hopefully it wouldn’t be awkward now that I’d apparently started having sex dreams about her.
Where had that come from? I’d gotten over Taylor more than a decade ago. Maybe I was just horny, and my dreams had more to do with that than with Taylor herself. I’d been thinking about her when I fell asleep, so my unconscious mind probably just put two and two together. Surely that was all it was.
My gaze caught on the detachable showerhead. I needed an orgasm or two to get my mind off sex—and Taylor. The ache inside me roared back to life as I lifted the showerhead out of its bracket. It had been a revelation all its own for sixteen-year-old me after a particularly long make-out session with Taylor.
I leaned against the cold wall of the shower as I brought the showerhead between my legs, unsuccessfully stifling a cry as the hot spray met my sensitive skin. I adjusted the angle so the jet of water hit my clit just right, moaning becauseGod, that was amazing. My hips moved rhythmically as everything inside me turned hot and tingly.
“Fuck,” I cried as release rushed through me, so sharp and powerful, my knees turned to rubber. I slid down the wall to sit in the tub, letting the showerhead coax every last bit of pleasure from my orgasm, and then I let it carry me over the edge a second time, Taylor’s name on my lips as endorphins flooded my system, bathing me in pleasure.
I sat slumped against the back of the tub with hot water cascading over my stomach until I’d recovered, and then I got to my feet and finished my shower, feeling like a whole new woman. I dressed and went into the kitchen to fix breakfast for Violet and me. It was weird having a dog that was dependent on me for food and care. I’d never been responsible for anyone’s—or anything’s—care before.
“Glad you like your new bedding,” I said as I mixed up her food. “I don’t know about you, but I really needed a good night’s sleep.”
After we’d both eaten, I took her for a stroll around the yard so she could take care of business, and then I went into the master bedroom to continue packing away my grandma’s things. It had been slow going yesterday because I kept getting distracted by memories. I’d spent hours poring over old photo albums before I finally packed those away too.
My summers in Vermont had been some of the happiest times in my childhood, and not just because of Taylor. Back then, my parents fought constantly, often using me as a pawn in their battles. This cabin and my grandma had been a respite from the fighting. My parents finally divorced around the time I started college, and I got along with both of them so much better now that they were happily remarried to new people.
While I worked, Violet lay in her playpen and napped. At least she seemed comfortable in it now. I went into the closet to box up my grandma’s shoes for donation, and when I came back out, there was something small and furry in the playpen next to Violet.
“Shit,” I blurted. “Oh my God! You had a puppy while I was in the closet?”
I rushed over, trying not to startle her but desperate to see if everything was okay. How had it happened so quickly? As I crouched by the playpen, I saw that there were actually several furry things in there with her, but they weren’t puppies. They were stuffed animals from the box of dog toys Taylor had sent over. Violet must have brought them in here to snuggle with.
