“I realize literallywhatyou are doing there,” Regan clarified. “I just can’t believe the fact that youarethere. Sorry, I guess that was my bad for not totally explaining, but in fairness, I thought you knew what I was getting at.”
The corner of Sutton’s mouth ticked up into a smile as she shook her head. Sure.
“As you so astutely pointed out, Christmas is in less than two weeks, and Idon’twant to be out shopping any closer to the holiday than I already am. I just need to get it done,” she murmured as she spotted her first target and ducked in.
“We live in the digital age, babe. The magic of shopping is all online now. Haven’t you heard?”
Sutton walked through the store, shaking her head. “Regan, it’simpossibleto get the RealJam Guitar online. It’s sold out everywhere!”
It was the hottest new electronic toy on the market this holiday season, and Sutton had been trying to hunt it down for the last two and a half months, since Lucy had named it as the only gift she wanted for Christmas. The RealJam was a new model guitar, integrated with Bluetooth and virtual reality enhancements to allow for instruction and self-improvement at home, and it had been flying off literal and digital shelves for the last six months.
Sutton had picked up a few other items here and there that she knew Lucy would want, but her daughter was very steadfast on this guitar.
And Sutton was very intent on finding it for her. If she could, that was. God, she so hoped she could.
Regan sighed, and Sutton could hear the sympathy in it. “Believe me, I know. Emma and I have been trying to get it for you, too.”
Sutton scanned her eyes over the shelves, smiling as she softened at Regan’s words. “I know you have. And I appreciate it.”
“You know my motto: Why do I need a kid when I already have yours?”
She laughed, combing through the crowd. “And I appreciate that village mentality, too.” Shetrulydid; Regan and Emma had showed up for her in the hardest and most lonely moments of parenting.
“I love you, you little redheaded sunflower, and I love your offspring maybe even more,” Regan emphatically stated, but she spoke again before Sutton could return the favor. “What Ireallyneed to know, though, is this: You have a Friday night free. Luce is at a sleepover and is going to be picked up by Layla. You and Ibothknow that this guitar is, unfortunately, not still going to be there?—”
“Two different stores confirmed getting a shipment today,” Sutton cut in.
Regan, true to form, ignored her. “And you have the perfect opportunity to spend a full night getting railed by Charlotte. Or… railing Charlotte?” Her voice turned thoughtful.
Sutton bit her lip as her cheeks warmed at the thought.
In truth, she would never be able to decide which of those options she enjoyed more.
And there had beenmanyvariations on those words to choose from in the last few weeks. Thanksgiving, of course, where she couldn’t help herself because Charlotte was being open and confessing to thatwant, which was, well, very much still alive.
There was the night after the fundraiser for The Zones, where she’d had sex with Charlotte in Charlotte’scar. Granted, it was a very spacious area, but… but Sutton had never done anything like it.
Something deep inside of her pushed her forward. She wasn’t sure exactly what; maybe the fact that Charlotte had gone out of her way to seek her out that night. Maybe it was that this flame had been reignited and it felt so fucking good to just give in, for the first time in years, to something that felt so good. Whatever it had been, she’d felt like a woman possessed as they’d climbed into the back of Charlotte’s car after the event.
She’d pulled Charlotte on top of her and slid her hand up Charlotte’s dress, feverish when she realized how wet Charlotte was for her already, made doubly so when she realized how quickly she was able to make her come, reaching up to stifle the sounds Charlotte made with her other hand.
They’d made time for those rendezvous several times a week since then. Every single time they met up to work together, it didn’t matter where; they’d give in. In Charlotte’s office last week, Charlotte had gone down on her as Sutton sat on her desk. At Charlotte’s apartment, Sutton had bent Charlotte over the couch.
They always started with their work first, but somewhere along the line, their tone switched.
“Either way,” Regan continued, “regardless of whichever one of you is fucking the other at the time, my point is, you have a full weekend night, totally free and clear, and for the first time inyearsyou’re in a… huh.” Regan’s tone turned deliberately obtuse. “Would you call this a relationship?”
Sutton rolled her eyes, regardless of the fact that her best friend couldn’t see.
“Personally, that’s whatIthink of when I think about someone exclusively fucking one person and doing it multiple times every single week.”
“I told you a couple of weeks ago, and I’m telling you again: You and I arenotgoing to do this.”
“I just want to talk to you about your life!”
“And Idon’t,” she shot back, an uncomfortable weight settling inside of her.
For as much fucking as they did and as much talking as they did, she and Charlotte had not been talking aboutthis.
