Never Say Never (12 page)

“And you don’t want to lose me.” It was a statement.

I looked at her sheepishly. “No. I don’t want to lose you.” Her smile reached her eyes. “I don’t want to lose you either.” She sighed again, relieved. “Why is this so difficult?” I shrugged. “Unfamiliar territory. You’re straight and I’m gay. And as much as I like to think that it doesn’t make us that different, it does. We see the world differently.”

“You make it sound hopeless.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I admitted. “I’m overanalyzing and making it sound worse than it really is. It’s just the mood I’m in.”

“Maybe we’re both worrying too much,” she offered.

“Should I apologize?”

“Don’t you dare.” She laughed now, jumping from the bed and squatting down in front of the wet bar to offer me a Coke.

“Are we done?”

“With this conversation? I think so.” I took the can from her outstretched hand and popped the top open.

“Good.” She settled back down on the bed, tucking her legs beneath her. “So tell me about your weekend.” I quickly checked her expression, not finding the smirk that I’d expected. “It rained most of the weekend, so we didn’t get out much. We stayed at Michelle’s apartment.”

“Sounds like this might be getting serious.” I knew she was fishing, and I smiled ironically.

“Funny that you should say that.”

Her jaw dropped just a bit, her brows coming together.

“You’re going to move down here to be with her, aren’t you.” Where could she possibly have gotten an idea like that?

“No. Definitely not.”

Her brow smoothed over and she settled back again, waiting for me to continue.

“Michelle really has no intention of settling down right now.”

“Have you?”

“Not with Michelle.” I faced her squarely, my head tilting back. “Don’t get me wrong,” I began, feeling the need to explain.

“Michelle’s a sweet woman, and she’s been good for me. Probably the best thing that could have happened to me right now. But we aren’t a good fit. Know what I mean?” I wrinkled my nose as a picture of Michelle entered my mind, head tipped back, throaty laughter bursting from her lips. “She’s a doll, though.” I left my reverie and focused again on Sara, who was watching me closely.

I grinned a little. “I know you’re dying to ask, so I’ll save you the trouble. Yes. She’s an incredible lover.”

Sara didn’t wince at my words. Her smile was almost naughty.

“I’m not a bit surprised.” She stared at me for a few moments, making me wish I could read her thoughts. “You’re not going to break her heart or anything, are you?”

“Oh, no.” I shook my head and took a sip of my soda. “Actually, we talked about it.” I regarded Sara carefully. “This isn’t her first fling.”

She laughed. “Is she yours?”

My face colored. “I guess you could say so. I’ve never gotten involved with anyone so quickly before. That’s part of what I learned this weekend.” She screwed up her face a bit, not following me. “That I can just enjoy Michelle without trying to marry her. I’ve never really been able to do that before.”

“You mean you don’t sleep around?” she laughed.

I was horrified. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s not true, then?” she asked, barely able to suppress the sudden twinkle in her eyes.

“What’s not true?” I sensed a joke was coming.

“That lesbians are nymphomaniacs.”

I laughed. “Just a myth, I’m afraid. Although my friend Susan might qualify.”

She laughed loudly, then was silent when it occurred to me that once again, the conversation was focused on me.

“Enough about me. What’s going on with you? How’s everything with James? Are you still seeing him?” She shook her head. “No. We split up a while ago.”

“I’m sorry,” I lied.

“I’m not. He wasn’t good for me.”

I digested this. “And it’s hard to meet guys down here when Billy and I are your only friends.”

“Don’t worry. I’m in no rush to meet anybody.” She brushed the comment aside. “Besides, we were talking about you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m onto you now. You’ve been getting me to talk about myself nonstop lately, and you’ve barely said a word about yourself. This trust thing is supposed to go two ways.” She looked like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary.

“You figured me out, huh?” She uncurled her legs and stretched out on the bed, fluffing her pillows. “Okay, shoot. What do you want to know?”

The door was wide open, and I stepped in with both feet. “I want to know about your best friend in high school.” She flinched. “Right for the jugular.” She swallowed hard and ran a hand through her hair. “I’ve never told this to anyone before.”

I just watched her, expectantly, letting her take her time.

She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Her name was Tracy,” she began. “We were best friends all through high school, and we did everything together.” Her eyes wandered until they focused on the wall just above my head. “We always used to sleep over at each other’s house. One night, Tracy was staying at my place. It was late and we were in bed, talking about boys. Out of nowhere she started telling me that she didn’t understand why girls couldn’t date other girls and that she liked me more than she’d ever liked any guy.” She paused, her face looking pinched. “I don’t really remember what happened after that. Except that she kissed me.” She sneaked a look at me, monitoring my reaction.

Under other circumstances, I might have teased her. But she looked so stricken that I couldn’t. I watched her, keeping my expression carefully closed, waiting for her to continue.

She dropped her eyes to her lap, unable to look at me any longer. “You’re going to hate me for this.” Her voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear her. “I just flipped out. I called her all kinds of names. I was so cruel. I told all the kids at school that she’d kissed me. Everybody made fun of her.” Her voice was cracking as she finished. “I completely humiliated her.” My heart sank to the very pit of my stomach. I was speechless.

Tortured eyes turned to me, gauging my reaction, asking for understanding, pleading for forgiveness. But I was powerless to hide my horror and repulsion.
Every young lesbian’s worst
 
nightmare.
I was so astonished and overwhelmed with grief for the young girl that Sara must have destroyed. My mind was screaming.
How could you do such a thing?

Silence stretched as I fought my hostility. Her eyes registered my rejection, and she dropped her head, tears welling and flowing down her cheeks.

My response was hurting her, and I struggled with wanting to comfort her while still recoiling in anger and dismay. I fought to calm myself, knowing I had to forget my personal reaction and try to help her. I thought about how Sara must have felt all these years, knowing what she’d done. How she must have felt when I told her the truth about myself all those months ago. I knew in my heart that the Sara I had come to know must hate herself for what she’d done. To both of us. But what could I do? I could never give her the absolution she needed. She would have to find that for herself.

So much more had been going on with her all along. It hadn’t occurred to me that there might be more to her rejection than I’d thought. My heart went out to her. I stood up, covering the distance between us in a few easy steps.

I settled down on the bed beside and just in front of her, swallowed my pride, and reached out to wrap my arms around her, pulling her close and rocking her as the tears poured in earnest.

“Don’t hate me,” she choked. She held me so tightly, burrowing her face in my neck as each sob racked her body.

“Shh. Its all right. I don’t hate you. It’s okay.” I did my best to comfort her, holding her safely and letting my hand stroke the curls that fell forward on her brow. Whispering quietly. Telling her it had happened such a long time ago. That it was time for her to forgive herself. Time to let it go. I was completely immersed in her grief, closing my eyes and feeling my walls just crumble away.

She hurt so much. I wanted to soothe her and take away all the pain. My face nuzzled in her hair as I dropped light, comforting kisses on her head. “Shh. It’s okay.” Over and over, I repeated the words. Holding her, my fingers combing through hair.

The shudders finally subsided; her breathing became even.

She continued to cling to me, unmoving. A heavy sigh escaped her, and my eyelids squeezed together as I sighed in return. We’d made it. We’d gotten through it. My anger was nonexistent as my focus shifted. I was suddenly aware of whom my arms were wrapped around. I couldn’t help thinking how good it felt as I inhaled deeply, savoring the clean outdoor smell of the hair that tickled my nose. She continued to hold me, and my lips curled in an involuntary smile.

The moment was fleeting, and I could only allow myself to admit how much I cared for that brief instant. I wished for another place and time. One where I could tell her how I felt without the inevitable rebuff. I kept my thoughts inside, holding them, cherishing them before finally letting them go, as if they’d never been.

With a quick squeeze I drew back, releasing both her and the fantasy. She was sniffing, rubbing her face on the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“I’m such a shit,” she muttered.

I chuckled softly to let her know I didn’t agree. “Maybe you were a shit. You’re not anymore. Kids are cruel when they’re that age.” My neck felt cool and empty where her face had just burrowed. I leaned back a little more, dropping one arm to the bed to prop myself up. My other hand rested on her shoulder, continuing to rub slowly.

“Sure. Look what I did to you. That was just this year.” She still hadn’t looked at me.

“We’re past all that, remember?” She looked pitiful, her face all red and puffy. My thoughts drifted back to Tracy. “Did you ever get the chance to apologize to her?”

“No.” She shook her head, staring past me blankly. “I think she still lives somewhere in Boston, though. But even if I could find her, I wouldn’t know how to make it up to her. How to explain.”

“Maybe you could just say that you’re sorry. Sometimes that’s enough.” My brow furrowed as I contemplated her glassy look.

“Do you have any idea why you reacted that way? Why you told all those other kids?”

“Oh, yeah. I know.” She wiped the back of her hand across her face and sighed. “I did it because that kiss made my stomach flutter like nothing I’d ever felt before. I liked it, and it scared the hell out of me. I wanted to make sure it never happened again.” She lifted her head now, turning swollen, bloodshot eyes to mine. “Care to analyze that, Leslie?”

Revelations were dropping by the minute. I was caught completely unprepared again. “Adolescent callowness.” She lifted a brow. “Think so?” I wasn’t sure if her tone was hopeful or doubtful.

“Sure.” I shrugged casually. “You reacted that way because you knew that the kiss was somehow taboo. It intrigued you, and it scared you at the same time.” I didn’t believe a word of what I was saying.

I searched her eyes, trying to read her thoughts. She wasn’t meeting my gaze; she was staring at my mouth. “So, if you kissed me right now, it wouldn’t feel the same way, right?” Her eyes fluttered and met mine.

My heart flip-flopped. My mind was racing. I didn’t trust what I was hearing.
She asking me to kiss her, right?
A rushing sound flooded my ears, and I had to remind myself to breathe. I searched her face, just inches away, for an answer. Her green eyes, made bright from the recent tears, were clear and completely focused on mine. Void of makeup to cover them, her tiny freckles winked at me. So unlike the image of the carefully put-together businesswoman that I always associated with her. So clean. So clear. So soft. My eyes wandered over her high cheekbones, down to her small pointed chin, then dropped to her long neck, and the pulse that was beating at the hollow of her throat. Back to her eyes. Still watching me. Waiting. Not backing down. Beckoning.

Those lips. Made fuller, almost puffy from the crying. Slightly parted. How often I’d thought of those lips. I fashioned myself a thief as I imagined leaning in and stealing a kiss from that mouth.

Could she know what she was asking? How could I ever find my way back to the safe place I’d found once I’d kissed those lips?

She tipped her head back, ever so slightly. I blinked, catching my breath, and leaned forward. Our eyes locked. Leaning closer.

Closer. Her lashes fluttered down, lids now exposed. My heart was thumping. And my lips touched hers. Lightly. So lightly. Like a feather of innocence. I could taste the salt from her recent tears as I waited for her to pull away. But she didn’t. Closer still. Was it her heartbeat or mine that I heard? Softly pressing, lingering.

So warm. So yielding. No longer just touching, but parting.

So gently. Her mouth opened, ever so slightly. Soft tongue.

Tentative. Finding mine. Brief touch. Unmoving. So soft. So wet.

It was too perfect. Too nice.

I was the one who ended the kiss. I brushed her lips again. Just one last time before I raised my head. My eyelids were heavy when I lifted them. I’d never seen her eyes so wide as they bore into mine, unflinching. I leaned back a little more to steady myself and catch my breath. Her lips were still parted, wet from the kiss. From my kiss. My heart was in my stomach, and my mind scrambled to gain control.

“I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I shouldn’t have —”

“Don’t apologize. I asked you to kiss me.” Her voice was as unwavering as her eyes, not giving away a hint of what she was thinking or feeling.

I was suddenly desperate to break the spell I was under and rid myself of the panic that threatened. I pulled my hand from her shoulder and placed it on the bed beside me, hoping that she couldn’t see that I was shaking. Now I was the one who couldn’t meet her eyes.

“I think,” she was saying, “that you just shot a big hole through your own theory.” She reached out and tugged the sleeve of my shirt. “So much for teenage innocence.” Her tone became light.

“What do you call that little flutter when you’re twenty-eight years old?”

If she was playing with me, I wanted no part of it. “I think you’re going to have to figure out that one on your own.” I didn’t mean to sound curt, but I know I did.