When Katie Met Cassidy by Camille Perri

Author:Camille Perri
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2018-06-18T16:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

Lying naked in Cassidy’s arms felt similar to lying naked in a man’s arms, but the feeling of Cassidy’s bare skin on Katie’s was completely different. It was softer, smoother, and Cassidy smelled cleaner than any man Katie had ever been with. This shouldn’t have been surprising given Cassidy’s elaborate grooming rituals. Katie had seen her bathroom products, her body lotions and facial moisturizers. Of course her skin was soft. Of course she smelled amazing in a way not even the gayest gay man could compete with.

Having sex with Cassidy felt similar to having sex with a man, too, but also entirely different.

After sliding Katie’s pajama bottoms down and off, Cassidy stood at the edge of the bed and undressed herself. Katie watched her unbutton her shirt and throw it to the floor, then pull what looked like a neutral-colored sports bra up and over her head. She let Katie look at her for a few seconds before stepping out of her suit pants. When she climbed back on top of Katie, her gray boxer-briefs clinging to her thighs against Katie’s own low-rise bikini underwear didn’t freak Katie out—it felt familiar. It felt sexy.

Katie was hyper aware of Cassidy’s body against her own, the curve of her chest and stomach, the angle of her hipbones. It was Cassidy’s hands that Katie lost track of, her confident hands, and her warm mouth.

It ended faster than she wanted it to. Before she even realized it was happening, she was digging her fingers into Cassidy’s back, holding her there for just a moment before pushing her away. Then she lay flat, covering her face.

“Are you okay?” Cassidy asked.

Katie nodded, staring straight up at the ceiling. “I’m not sure how this works,” she said. “Am I supposed to do you now?”

“No.” Cassidy wrapped her arm around her. “Now you just relax.”

Cassidy helped her relax by holding her close, grazing her fingers up and down Katie’s arm, inducing her into a trance state like a hypnotist dangling a watch before her eyes.

It was already the middle of the night when Katie rolled over and Cassidy was gone. She remained still for a few minutes, unsure if Cassidy had left or simply gone to the bathroom. If she heard a flush or running water, Katie decided she would close her eyes and feign sleep—play possum. Because snoozing possums never had to account for themselves—they weren’t expected to answer questions or have appropriate reactions, or not freak out for the benefit of the same-sex possum they had just hastily mated with.

After a few more minutes Katie sat up, saw Cassidy’s clothes were gone from the floor, and then noticed a note on her nightstand.

Sweet dreams. Talk to you tomorrow.

Of course they would, but what would Katie say? That she didn’t know what to call this? That she wasn’t sure if it was a crazy rebound, an uncharacteristic acting-out, or a sexual awakening? Or if it was an identity crisis. Or a mistake.

This isn’t me, she might say. This isn’t who I am.

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