While the lights were off downstairs, the glow from the tv lit a path for me to the living room and kitchen. And there laid Nola, covering her mouth as she tried not to—
“Are you laughing at me?” I whisper-yelled.
A snicker escaped her closed lips, a small snort that I’ve had memorized since we were eighteen.
“I never realized how clumsy you are.” She tried to be serious as I kicked off my platform sandals.
“It’s only because drinking makes you lose your equilibrium,” I clarified.
“Yes, thank you, doctor.”
“Why are you up?” I whispered as I approached the couch, ready to take my position opposite Nola. But instead, her hand reached up to tug me toward her. I tipped over easily, body on the couch, and head in her lap. “Hey, you tipped me over!”
“And I caught you.” She looked down at me, her fingers playing with the rubber bands in my hair.
I purred like a cat, heavy eyelids closing, “You should scratch my scalp.”
“You’re so bossy.” I thought Nola wouldn’t listen to me until I felt her fingernails between my braids. My eyes fluttered open to stare at her, at us, our bodies touching, touching for the first time in weeks. Lust that pooled in my belly, that familiar heat that always made itself known when we made contact.
But tonight, the loudest sensation was the quiet she brought. The movement of the rise and fall of her chest, the rhythm of her nails on my scalp. It all morphed into serenity, like a boat moving into the dock after its journey home. When we were together like this, it didn’t feel fleeting, or that we only wanted to rip our clothes off.
It felt like we fit well together.
“I like us like this,” I admitted, because at least if this backfired I could blame it on my tipsiness. I watched Nola’s face for any trace of the truth. She was more guarded with her words than I could ever be. She always kept things close to her heart—I just wanted her to let me in too.
I wanted her to keepmeclose.
She smiled softly, her face illuminated by the bright purple light of Roku City.
“I love us like this.”
“Good.” I brought my hand up to twirl one of her platinum twists. “I’m glad this is how we came back into each other’s lives.”
“Same. You know, I missed you a lot after we came home from Spain,” Nola began, her eyes drifting as I folded into her. My cheek nuzzled deeper into her lap, her arm draping over my waist. “I wished I was brave enough to ask for your number.” She shook her head. “Sending dumb memes back and forth wasn’t enough. And then, by the time we got to our last natty, it had felt like too many people were in the way.”
“Everyone else had a habit of being nosier than they needed to be.” I’d had a long time to think about what we were like eighteen to twenty-two. How we circled around each other, so close and yet so far. “At a certain point, I thought you were fine just being internet friends.” I laughed to myself. Nola was looking back down at me now, her gaze stuck on my mouth.
“I was happy with whatever you gave me. But I think I started wanting more. Your life in Cali seemed so cool—mostly because you actually had a life. I had made basketball my whole personality so when it was off-season, I didn’t know who I was without it.”
“Do you think you know who you are now?” I wanted to know more about Nola; take as much as she was willing to give.
She nodded, her eyes going distant again. “Sometimes I think people are disappointed when they meet me. Like, when they get to know the real me. I’m nothing like I am on the court or in the press room. I’m slow to trust new people, honestly pessimistic that everyone just wants something, and Ireallyhate dad jokes.
“So how did I get you to crack?”
“You could get anyone to crack, Bee.” She grinned, making my heart flutter and my stomach somersault. “But you wear your heart on your sleeve. You lead with joy and compassion and honesty. It’s hard to hate you.”
“Until we’re on the court.” I winked.
“Exactly.”
I popped up from Nola’s lap before I lost the courage, kneeling next to her so we were now face-to-face. I wanted to kiss her, but we’d been spilling our guts, and maybe that would ruin everything.
“Can you kiss me?” Nola asked before I could. “If you want.” She rushed out before I could answer. She looked like she was about to add something before my lips stopped her.
This kiss was soft, apprehensive for both of us, since we didn’t have the ferocity from our first or second kisses. Our mouths moved slow and deep, exploring every surface of the other. As much as I wanted more, I also wanted Nola to know this wasn’t something with a timer, that we didn’t have to kiss as if we’d run out of time and the shot clock would run out.
There were a few things we could draw out, make worth it, something we could take our time exploring.
