The kiss creates a chemical reaction, turning all the giddy excitement we’re both emoting into desire. Before long, my fingers are pulling down the blush underwear she has on, and I’m having her for my dessert.
As I make her come undone, this time with just my fingers and tongue, and she leans against the counter, I realize how easy it is to forgive myself when I’m with her. I wonder if she’s going to do the unthinkable and rewrite the ending to this tragedy I thought I was destined to live forever. Because right now, as I kneel on her kitchen floor with my face between her bare legs, I truly think I’ll let her if she dares.
19
Chloe
“So explainto me again why you’re out with us and not at home playing naked Twister with your tenant-slash-boyfriend?” Mitch asks as he wraps his lips around the straw in his mojito, and his eyebrows wiggle so much they look like they’re having a seizure.
“He’s off saving lives,” I say and try not to laugh at Mitch’s antics because it will just encourage him.
“Boo,” Mitch says and then smiles. “Oh well, his loss is my gain. Tell me more details about the sex, please.”
“No,” I say flatly and stir my own passion fruit daiquiri. “I’m not a kiss-and-tell girl, Mitch.”
“I don’t care about the kissing, tell me about the orgasms. Did they happen with his tongue or his dick or both?” Mitch asks in a normal voice, like he’s inquiring about one of the ads I design at work. I shush him and he laughs. “I thought sex would loosen you up. Apparently you need more of it.”
“Mitchell, we can’t all be Samanthas,” Aspen says and gives me a little side hug in support from her position on the stool beside me. “Some of us have to be Charlottes or the universe would be off kilter. I’m mean, obviously not me, being that I’m knocked up by a fling. I guess that makes me Miranda. Damnit I always wanted to be a Carrie.”
“Thanks for that…I think,” I reply to Aspen for her defense. I pat her balloon of a belly. “And Miranda is the best character. She grew the most in the series, if you ask me.”
Aspen smiles at me in a way that says she doesn’t find that comforting and sips her flavored seltzer water.
Mitch orders another round. I want to argue. I don’t have the cash for another drink, but knowing Mitch, he’ll just pick up the tab anyway. He expenses everything when we’re out together because I’ve done some freelance design projects for him in the past. He’s creative with his business credit card. Besides, Aspen drove, not me, so I decide to forget my self-imposed one drink limit. Mitch jumps off his stool. “I have to piddle. And I saw a hot guy over by the restrooms I need to cruise.”
“He’s a riot,” I laugh as Mitch walks away.
“Always has been,” Aspen replies. “I met him years ago when he was in the same dorm as my brother Abbott at college. They had rooms beside each other, and when Jake and I hit a rocky patch, which was every other week, I would escape up to Boston and hang out with Abbott. Eventually, it turned into hanging out with Mitch. Jake didn’t know he was gay, and it used to make him all jealous and possessive, and I fucking loved that.”
“That doesn’t sound like a healthy relationship.”
Aspen nods vigorously. “Oh, it was toxic as all hell. Hard to be healthy when the whole thing starts because you want what your best friend can’t have.”
I shake my head and play with the straw in my drink. Aspen is so candid about everything, especially her mistakes. I watch as she pats her belly. “Anyway if this one’s a girl, I am not going to let her be the drama queen I was. She’s going to be kind and soft-hearted and appreciate her friends, not let the green-eyed monster control her actions.”
I smile. Aspen is truly a work in progress, the key word being progress. Knowing the woman in front of me, I have such a hard time believing she was this bratty nightmare she describes. She smiles back at me now, and it’s not her usual bold, mischievous one. This smile is softer and more reflective, like a parent watching his kid drive off for college. “What?” I ask.
“I’m just happy for you, Chloe,” she says quietly. “I can say now that I was a little worried about you when we first met.”
“I was worried about me too,” I say, and she reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.
“You deserved to find a hot, nice guy who is so crazy good at sex you can’t even talk about it.” Her voice is brimming with heartfelt sincerity even though, in typical Aspen fashion, her words are a little nutty. “Maybe that’s what I need. A boy so perfect I can’t talk about it.”
She pauses as the server brings our new round, and I finish my first daiquiri so she can take the empty glass. When she’s gone, Aspen sighs. “I don’t know, I guess I like talking about sex so much because I haven’t had any in forever and likely won’t for decades after I pop this one out.”
“Single motherhood is not a chastity belt, Aspy,” I tell her firmly. “Logan has a kid and he’s getting laid.”
She smiles approvingly, knowing that was a bold statement for me. “I don’t see it happening for me anytime soon, so humor me a wee bit and tell me something. Anything. A smidge of a detail about how good it was. Please?”
“Oh my God, you are relentless,” I say, but I’m grinning through the exasperation. And I don’t know if it’s the wee bit of alcohol in my system or what, but I find myself giving her a tidbit. “He made me…you know…with just his…” I point to my pants. “No mouth, no fingers, just his not so little…eggplant. That’s nearly impossible for me. I usually need additional stimulation, but with him it was effortless.”
“What position?” Aspen asks.
“Missionary.”
“Sweet Jesus, never let him go,” Aspen announces and raises her glass of seltzer in the air like she’s making a toast. She takes a quick sip, licks her lips, and leans forward. “Also it’s adorable how you’re over thirty and can’t say come and cock. Work on it though, because at forty, it’s just sad.”
“I can say it. I just don’t think this is an appropriate place to throw out those words,” I reply, my eyes darting around to make sure no one heard her. Aspen shakes her head. “You’re hopeless in an adorable way.”
