Charlotte, who was asleep on the pullout couch in Marin’s living room at this very moment.
Oh fuck.
Marin had completely forgotten that Charlotte was in her apartment. She yanked her hand from her sleep shorts as embarrassment burned through her system. She’d been lying here, dreaming about sex, touching herself, while Charlotte slept just on the other side of the door. Oh god. She’d moaned. How loud had that been?
Her core ached with unreleased tension, and her panties were wet. Holding in a sigh, she sat up in bed, and then she almost groaned for a completely different reason. Now that she was upright, her head ached from all the wine. Briefly, she wondered if she could get back to sleep so she didn’t have to leave her room and face Charlotte, but she was fully awake now, and she had to pee.
Ignoring the discomfort, she reached for her phone. Anything to delay leaving her bedroom. It was only a few minutes past seven. Charlotte was probably still asleep, and Marin was being a thoughtful host by not disturbing her, not a coward for needing a few minutes to compose herself after her interrupted moment of self-pleasure. She still felt tense and restless. Frustrated.
Horny.
She was horny as hell, and there was nothing she could do about it. It didn’t matter that she had extensive practice getting herself off silently, having spent years taking care of her own needs while sharing a bed with Andrew. It felt different to think about touching herself while Charlotte was here. For one thing, she’d never fantasized aboutAndrew while she was getting herself off, but even if she had, he was her husband, so it wouldn’t have been wrong.
Fantasizing about her friend—herstraightfriend—while she got herself off was wrong, especially while that friend was on her couch.
Marin squinted at her phone. In her distraction, she’d forgotten to grab her reading glasses, and these days she was helpless without them. Losing her perfect vision had been one of the more humbling aspects of entering her forties, at least until she’d gotten hit by a car. Now glasses seemed a small price to pay for the privilege of getting older.
Sliding them into place, she turned her attention to the notifications on her phone. There was some activity in her sibling group chat, but more interestingly, there were two new messages from the dating app. Laura had written her back, and so had Bridgette, one of the women Marin sent an introductory message to last night.
Marin gulped as a burst of excitement swept through her system. Maybe nothing would come of either of these connections—she was under no illusion that online dating was easy—but it was a start, and it was so freaking exciting. She was messaging with two queer women who were interested in dating her. This was, quite literally, a dream come true.
She responded to them both, not giving herself time to overthink her responses. She kept her messages short and sweet but with a flirty undertone ... or at least she hoped that was how they would be read. The apartment outside her bedroom was still silent, but Marin’s bladder was complaining pretty urgently now, and she needed ibuprofen for her head too. Like it or not, she had to leave her room.
She sat up, wincing as a bolt of pain shot down her right leg. The pelvic injury she’d sustained in the accident had damaged her sciatic nerve, leaving her with chronic nerve pain. She had a few tools and tricks to help manage it, but some days the pain was unbearable. Hopefully, today wouldn’t be one of those days.
Then again, alcohol made inflammation worse, so perhaps she only had herself to blame for today’s flare-up. But she so rarelyindulged, she wasn’t going to feel guilty about it now. She rubbed at the tingling sensation in her thigh, then stood and slipped her sleep shorts down her legs. She tossed them into the hamper and reached for a pair of flannel lounge pants. Then she pulled on a hoodie over her T-shirt.
Sufficiently covered to face company, she left her room. She glimpsed a tousle of blond hair in the blankets on the sofa bed, indicating Charlotte was indeed still asleep. Marin went into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind herself. She freshened up, then brushed her teeth and her hair. When she left the bathroom, Charlotte was sitting up on the sofa bed.
“Morning,” Marin said. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Nope.” Charlotte rubbed her eyes with a yawn. “I never seem to sleep well after I drink these days. Hazards of getting old.”
Marin chuckled. “I’m fairly sure I’m older than you, but I know what you mean. My body doesn’t let me get away with half the shit I did in my younger days, and that was the case even before I got run over by a car.” She rolled her eyes to keep the mood light, but truthfully, her leg still hurt. Tingling pain had begun to radiate down the back of her thigh.
“I turned forty last year,” Charlotte said, “and it seems like my body immediately started to rebel.”
“I remember feeling the same way. Coffee?” She reached for the pot on the kitchen counter and began to fill the carafe with water.
“Definitely. Thanks. Do you want to grab breakfast before we go our separate ways? I need to go home by midmorning to shower and get ready for my first client appointment.”
Marin would love the excuse to splurge on a nice breakfast—something she rarely did—but this morning, she needed to try to nip this nerve pain in the bud with some stretching exercises, an ice pack, and a muscle relaxant. “Rain check? I’d love to go out to breakfast sometime, but I need to stay in this morning.”
“No problem. You okay?” She was looking at Marin like she could see her discomfort, which was unlikely because Marin was an expert at hiding pain, both physical and mental.
She’d been keeping it to herself for forty-seven years, which meant she was a master of disguise. But maybe she didn’t need to hide from Charlotte. Friends shared this kind of thing, didn’t they?
“Nerve pain,” she said with a sigh. “Happens sometimes since the accident.”
“I’m sorry.” Charlotte’s eyes were sympathetic. “Is it bad? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Sometimes it is, but it’s not too bad yet this morning.” Marin reached into the cabinet where she kept her medication and took out the bottle. “I try to get ahead of it with meds and stretches, but that means I shouldn’t go sit at a restaurant right now. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I could pick something up for us if you like? Or if you’d rather that I get out of your hair so you can rest, just say the word.”
“Um.” Marin had assumed she would just leave, but her offer sounded tempting, actually. “You don’t mind?”
“Of course not. That’s what friends are for, right? What are you in the mood for?”
