Instead of accidentally cutting herself open with the razor in her haste, Charlotte opts to brush her teeth before Riley’s arrival. Just when she’s finished rinsing her mouth, there’s a knock on the door and her heart starts pounding. A sense of relief washes over her when she’sgreeted by Riley carrying two glasses of clear liquid and a large ice cube.
“Tequila?” Charlotte inquires suspiciously, and Riley gives her a smouldering look.
“A fantastic mezcal. Great for sipping.”
“Oh thank god,” Charlotte sighs, plucking one glass from Riley’s hand and taking a sip right away. She makes a face: toothpaste and mezcal are apparently an abominable combination.
“Hey Riley, nice to see you Riley, how kind of you to bring drinks Riley,” the woman standing outside her door playfully remarks. “Do you think you’re gonna invite me in at some point, or are you planning on sharing this with Shakespeare?”
Charlotte pretends to give it some thought. “You’re lucky he’s underage,” she eventually caves, stepping aside to let Riley in. When she enters, she pointedly clinks her glass against Charlotte’s before walking further in the room.
Charlotte shuts the door and leans back against it. She watches Riley, who wears a simple black shirt dress, taking in her room and the variety of items on the vanity.
“Where is he anyway?” Riley asks, turning on her heel. Charlotte nods at the bathroom door.
“He’s very fond of his privacy.”
“As he should be.”
Charlotte shakes out her free hand, manually trying to expel some tension. Within two strides, Riley is back right in front of her, smiling reassuringly. Withoutbreaking eye contact, Riley sips her drink. Charlotte copies her.
“Your texts have been everything I could think about today, but I still like to hear you actually say it,” Riley murmurs while coyly pressing the cold glass against her own cheek.
Charlotte tilts her head up in teasing defiance.
“Which text?”
“Both of them.”
Charlotte’s heart rate picks up again; she feels it in her throat and the artery in her neck. This is what they’re both good at, what they will exploit until one of them gives in.Or succumbs to the gay panic,she muses. And by now, she knows how to trigger Riley’s.
“Yeah, but which one did you like better? The one where I told you I was ready? Or the one where I told you that I wanted you?” Riley clearly tries to hide her faltering, but Charlotte notices anyway. “Just so we avoid any confusion,” she adds with a smirk.
Riley rolls her tongue against her bottom teeth, impressed by Charlotte’s statement.
“I’m glad you remembered how much I value healthy communication,” she says in a low voice, sipping her drink again. While she licks a stray drop of mezcal off her bottom lip, her eyes briefly flick towards Charlotte’s mouth. Charlotte promises herself thatshewill be the one licking up any droplets if the opportunity rises again.
While Riley’s tone has been playful, she appears to be dead set on making sure Charlotte knows there’s an honest truth behind it.
“If we’re doing this...” she says, letting her eyes skim over Charlotte’s face for any sign of reservation. “Can I trust you to tell me whenever you want to stop? Or take a break? Or if you want something specific?”
Charlotte wants to reply without thinking, but she stops herself and takes a moment to really consider the request. Can Riley trust her to do that? Does she trust Riley enough to be that honest?
She thinks back to the countless moments of shared vulnerability between the two of them. The way her annoyance has turned into admiration, just because of what a thoughtful person Riley is. Sharing stories, good and bad, while Riley was thousands of miles away. And while Riley still has the ability to drive her insane with her endless taunting, Charlotte is helplessly attracted to her.
What matters even more in this moment, is that on top of her physical attraction and interest, she considers Riley to be a friend too. And she wouldn’t be friends with people she doesn’t trust.
“When,” Charlotte corrects her. At Riley’s questioning look, she clarifies: “When we’re going to do this. Not if. I promise to be honest, Riley. I trust you. You and all your infuriating little quirks.”
Riley answers her promise with an endeared smile, leaning in to press a kiss to the apple of her cheek.
“Doyou?” Charlotte whispers when Riley’s face is still next to hers. “Do you trust me? And promise me to be honest about what you want?”
She needs to ask her this, she needs the playing field to be equal. Riley seems to understand that.
“I promise to be honest, and I promise to try everything within my power to make both of us feel good,” is Riley’s husked answer. Charlotte shivers. Leaning back, Riley adds: “If you do get uncomfortable at some point, or you can’t speak for whatever reason, let’s agree you tap me three times. We’ll stop immediately.”
At that, Charlotte scrunches her face and chuckles. “I didn’t know you were gonna bring your kinks into this.”
