You and Me Together: A Lesbian Romance by Kitty Jones

Author:Kitty Jones [Jones, Kitty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kitty Jones
Published: 2022-04-05T16:00:00+00:00

11

Faith

Eventually, Brian falls asleep on the couch with Poppy. Wendy and I tiptoe out of the room and head upstairs. Maybe she has a guest room or something I can sleep in. Only, when we reach the top of the stairs, she looks over at me nervously.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have a guest room,” she admits. “I’m so sorry. I used to, but the bed broke and now I just have boxes in that room. The other two rooms are still being remodeled, so really, it’s just my room.”

And she only has one bed.

What happens when you combine one very big, very soft, very comfortable bed and two very tired, very single, very into-each-other women?

What could possibly go wrong?

“That’s totally fine,” I say before I can stop myself.

It’s not what I should be saying.

What I should be saying is, “I’ll call a ride and go home.”

What I should be saying is, “I’ll crash on the floor.”

What I should be saying is that I’m not even tired and don’t really want to sleep.

There are a million things I should be saying, but I don’t. Instead, I hold my head up high and act like this is the simplest, easiest, most mundane thing in the world, and the two of us head toward her bedroom.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind sharing. I’ll keep to my side.”

“It’s fine,” I tell her. “Honestly, thanks for letting me crash here tonight. Brian, too, I suppose.”

“Oh, he does this a lot,” she chuckles.

“He does this to me a lot, too,” I admit, looking at her. “He does have a home, right? Like, I’m going to feel really bad if neither one of us realized our dear friend doesn’t have a place to live.”

“He’s got a home,” she laughs. “I’ve been there.”

“Me too. I’m just joking around.”

“Well,” she says, and I realize we’ve reached the bed. Somehow. I’m not really sure how it happened, but we’re standing on either side of the queen bed. The door to the hallway is still open, but the lights are off in here.

“Well,” I say quietly. “Should we sleep with the door open? You know, in case Poppy needs to come in.”

“Of course,” she nods, and climbs into the bed and under the covers. I follow suit. Once we’re both under the heavy quilt, I start holding my breath. “Are you holding your breath?” Wendy asks instantly.

“No.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“I’m not.”

“You don’t have to be nervous. I won’t try to canoodle you,” she whispers.

I bite my lip. Why – oh why – do I have to feel like this? Why do I have to feel like this is the most exciting moment of my life?

If Allen was still alive, he’d laugh at the situation. He’d tell me to stop being scared and just go for it because that’s the kind of person he always was. He always believed in just going for it. Whether it was cutting my hair or trying a new hobby or painting the entire house, he always thought we should avoid holding back and just do the things we want to do.

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