Never Say Never (11 page)

But her smile faltered and she drew back a little, her face closing. The air seemed heavy, oppressive. The moment was gone. Silence stretched. Uncomfortable silence. I grasped for a way out, to save face.

“I’ll take it.” I reached out and grabbed the shirt from her hands. “Come on. I still have to find some pants, and you have a plane to catch.” I turned and headed for a display near the front of the store, feeling her right behind me as I went.

I settled on a pair of brushed cotton khaki pants and bought both items without trying them on. Sara reacted by telling me that I wasn’t being a very sensible shopper, and admonished me nonstop as we made our way across the parking lot and back to the hotel. When we reached our rooms, she insisted that I try on the outfit for her inspection.

“Open your side. I’m coming over,” she told me. It had gotten to the point over the last week that the doors connecting our rooms were always open. I flipped the latch on my side and heaved my shopping bag onto the bed. I did a quick check to see if the message light was flashing on the phone, but it wasn’t lit.

My alarm clock flashed six-fifteen. Michelle would be there at seven.

I could hear Sara behind me, and I flopped down on the bed and turned to face her. “I almost forgot,” she was saying, “I need to run downstairs and get some wrapping paper. Want to tag along?”

“No. I’ve got to hurry and get ready to go. What time’s your flight?”

Her eyes flew open briefly. “I almost forgot. Seven forty-five. I’ll run down and be right back.” I nodded and she disappeared behind the door. A moment later I heard the sound of the hallway door opening and closing.

Once alone, I pulled my new clothes from the shopping bag and laid them on the bed, inspecting them for wrinkles. To my relief, there were no telltale signs that either had just been purchased. There wasn’t time for a shower, though, so I stripped off the skirt and blouse I was wearing and slipped into the new khakis.

My thoughts shifted to Michelle and the evening ahead as I scurried about, running a brush through my hair and frowning at the results. It never behaved when I wanted it to. I spent far too much time deciding which pair of shoes to wear, finally settling on a pair of loafers. I was pulling them on when there was a knock on the door.

My head snapped back, and I looked at the clock. Too early for Michelle. Maybe Sara had forgotten her key.
Great.
The blue shirt was still lying on the bed, and the only thing covering me was a bra.

“Just a second,” I called, grabbing up the shirt and fumbling to undo all the buttons as I moved to the door. I pushed my arms through the sleeves and gathered the front together in one hand. Without bothering with the buttons, I reached out with the other hand and pulled the door open.

“Hello there.” I must have looked stunned, because Michelle was laughing at my expression.

“You’re early,” I said flatly, stepping back to let her in.

She closed the door behind her, her eyes never leaving mine.

I’d forgotten how dark they were. She looked gorgeous in a light gray blouse tucked into black-and-white checkered trousers. Just seeing her made my hormones race.

“I’d say I’m just in time.” Her eyes leered playfully as she reached for me, sliding both hands under my shirt and letting them sneak around my waist to rest at the small of my back. I released the front of my shirt and let it fall open as I lifted my arms and wrapped them around her neck.

“I missed you.” I barely had time to whisper before she was kissing me soundly.

“Mmm. It’s been a long week,” she mumbled against my mouth as she gently guided me backward until the edge of the bed was behind my knees. She eased me down carefully, her lips never leaving mine.

Then she was on top of me, and I knew nothing except the taste of her mouth, the tingle of her fingers as they brushed the shirt farther back from my shoulders. Her lips were on my neck, nibbling and biting, while her hands seemed to be everywhere at once, instantly teasing, arousing. The ache between my legs was immediate, insistent, demanding attention. I tugged at her shirt, needing to feel the softness of her skin. Again her mouth was on mine, falling open as I pulled her down. Tighter. Closer.

I took her tongue between my lips, slowly sucking, wanting that fullness in my mouth. Then her hand was at my waist, tugging at the zipper of the khakis without success. I smiled and broke the kiss to reach down and help. I froze.

Sara’s face loomed above Michelle’s shoulder. She was leaning against the edge of the door that joined our rooms, staring and looking utterly stunned. The moment seemed to last forever. Sara looked wretched, I was unable to move, and Michelle continued to kiss my neck, oblivious. Finally, Sara took a deep breath and shook herself.

“I’m sorry. I —” she stopped in midsentence and fled the room.

Michelle lifted her head, a question on her face. “Sara?” I nodded. “Shit,” I muttered. “I forgot the door was open.” Michelle sat up and I followed, standing to button my shirt.

“I’ve got to catch her before she leaves, okay? I’ll only be a minute.”

Sara was stuffing clothes into an overnight bag when I caught up to her. She knew I was standing there, barely a foot away, but she wouldn’t look at me.

“Sara,” I began.

“I’m running late. I really have to get going.” Without looking up, she closed the bag and zipped it up.

“Sara, don’t,” I pleaded. My stomach hurt. My head hurt.

Why did she make me hurt so much?

She turned away from me, flinging the bag over her shoulder.

Now anger was beginning to mix with remorse. I chased her.

“Dammit, Sara. Stop.” Completely out of character, I grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.

She looked wounded.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” Now she was pleading.

Backing away.

“It’s okay. Stop it, all right?” I realized I still held her arm and let go.

“I’m embarrassed right now, and I have to catch my plane. . .” She looked so lost.

“I know, I know. Please, don’t leave angry with me again, okay?”

“Angry?” She guffawed. “I’m not angry with you, Leslie. Don’t think that. Okay?”

The knot in my stomach began to ebb. “Okay.”

“I have to go. I’ll probably be back Sunday.” She began backing away again, and this time I let her go.

“Okay. See ya.” I scrambled, not wanting her to cry.

She opened the door and paused to look at me. “Apologize to Michelle for me, okay?”

I nodded.

“I guess the outfit was a hit.” She smirked lamely, and I tried to laugh as the door closed behind her.

* * *

“Is she okay?” Michelle was lounging on the bed when I returned.

“I think so.” I sat beside her, and she reached for my hand. “I can’t believe it. I looked up and she was standing there. Staring at us. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so edgy.”

“Have you two known each other very long? Are you very good friends?”

I didn’t answer right away. How well did I know Sara? Not as well as I liked to think, I decided. We spent so much time talking about me anymore that I hadn’t even thought to ask about her.

Some friend.

“We’re friends, yes.” I searched for the right words. “But it feels fragile somehow. Like I’m afraid it will break.” I shook my head. “We started traveling together on this project about a year ago, and we really hit it off. Then last spring I came out to her, and she didn’t handle it well. It’s only been the last couple of weeks that we’ve started to get close again.”

“So seeing us lying on the bed together was probably kind of a shock.” She tugged on my hand. “Don’t worry. She’ll get over it.” She placed a small hand behind my neck and squeezed lightly.

“Do you suppose she likes you? I mean,
likes
you
.”
My laugh was nervous as I recalled our conversation at the mall earlier that day. “No. Definitely not. She’s straight.”

“Maybe she’s curious?”

For the first time, I allowed myself to think about the possibility. She had been asking a lot of questions lately. “I’m not sure.” I was staring into space, and Michelle reached up to tip my face back to hers.

“What about you?’ she asked quietly. “How do you feel about her?”

I was reticent to respond. First, I wasn’t sure of the answer.

And second, it felt awkward to talk to Michelle about my feelings for Sara. She seemed to recognize my hesitancy and smiled.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to fly into a jealous tirade because you care about another woman. She held both of my hands now, her eyes focused on mine. “I think you know where I’m coming from. Don’t you?”

I fully appreciated and welcomed her honesty. “You mean you’re not going to ask me to marry you?” I pouted playfully.

Her laugh was throaty, causing me to like her all the more.

“You said it yourself,” she shrugged, still smiling. “I’m still a baby. Too young to settle down.”

I pretended to be crushed but kept my tone light. “I’ll just have to enjoy you while I can, then.” I brushed her lips with mine and sat back, smiling.

She searched my face, a bit uncertain. “You’re okay with this? You’re not looking for something more serious?” I chuckled. “Not right now, Michelle. Don’t worry. But I have to tell you that this is new for me. I’m not usually like this.” I dropped my voice down low, sneaked my fingers into the thickness of her hair and kissed her hard. “I like it.” She pulled me close, crushing me in a long, hot kiss. I was melting.

“We have dinner reservations at seven-thirty,” she mumbled, her eyes staring into mine while our lips never parted.

“I’m not hungry,” I told her, my entire body screaming for attention.

“I am,” she growled. She leaned over and pushed me back none too gently into the soft mattress.

When Michelle suggested that we spend the weekend at her apartment, I agreed without hesitation. It rained until late Sunday and we made the most of it, spending what seemed like the entire weekend in her bedroom. Michelle finally had to go to work Sunday evening, and I returned to the hotel just after Sara, who was wandering around next door.

The image of her ashen features as she had watched Michelle and me that last Friday sprang to mind, and I knew we had to talk about it. We couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened. I changed clothes and prowled around a while, mustering the courage to welcome her back. I approached the adjoining door and sheepishly placed my ear to one panel. Not a sound. I eased the door open and was surprised to find the door on her side already ajar, as if she’d been expecting me.

She was curled up on the bed, dressed casually in her favorite sweats. A novel rested in her lap and a pair of glasses was perched on her nose. She looked different somehow, and it took me a moment to notice that her dark hair, usually so perfectly coifed, was windblown and disheveled. She wore no makeup; I’d only seen her without but once before. She looked squeaky-clean.

Young. Innocent. The sight was endearing. I watched her fondly, my heart warming.

“Welcome back,” I greeted her quietly.

Emerald eyes lifted, peering over the top of her lenses. She didn’t jump to remove them, as I’d expected. Her smile was hesitant as she raised her head and slowly reached up to remove the spectacles.

“Hi. I didn’t think you were here.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you alone?”

I nodded. “Michelle’s at work. Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

I stepped inside and settled in one of the two arm chairs while she placed a bookmark between two pages and set her book on the nightstand.

“How was your weekend?” She asked the question first.

“Very nice. Very,” I searched for the right word, “enlightening. And yours?”

She chuckled softly. I knew her mind was in the gutter. “Not nearly so nice as yours, I’m sure. But somewhat enlightening. I think we need to talk,” she sighed. “I need to apologize.”

“Sara, it’s —” She held up a hand to stop me.

“No really, I do. I need to get this out and over with so I can move on. I spent the whole weekend obsessing about it.” Her features took on a look that was akin to shame. She was still upset. Her voice was missing its usual lilt, her words sounding almost terse and clipped. “This isn’t easy for me to tell you, so I’m just going to spit it out.” Her tongue quickly passed over her lips. “When I saw you — the two of you. I guess I was . . .” She looked at me, eyes wide with embarrassment and disbelief.

“Jealous.” She shook her head, trying to comprehend. “That’s the only word I can come up with to describe it.”

I was careful not to move, not to show any reaction as she continued.

“I know that sounds ridiculous. It is ridiculous. I’ve gotten so used to having you all to myself that I forget you have other people in your life. Other friends. Lovers.” She was rambling, angrily berating herself, no longer looking at me. “It’s so stupid. I can’t believe I reacted that way. I can’t believe I acted so stupid and that I have to apologize to you again. I don’t want to keep doing things that I end up apologizing for. I’m so mad at myself.” Her tirade was becoming painful, even for me. “Sara, it’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sara.” The name came out more sternly than I’d intended.

“Enough. Stop it. You’re forgiven. It’s okay.” The cloud lifted from her eyes as she focused on me, finally seeing me. She was thankfully quiet. “Look,” I managed a lame smile. “I feel the same way. It’s like I’m constantly worried that I’m going to say or do something that will put you off. I want to trust you, but I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to be close to a woman who isn’t gay. Not really. It’s foreign to me. I feel like I’m on eggshells all the time. Like one day you’re going to see that we really have nothing in common and you’ll just turn away.”

“That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have turned my back on you before.”

“No.” I waved her off. “It isn’t all about you. It’s about others too. And about me. I worry too much about what people will think. I worry too much about losing people.” Silence stretched. I hadn’t intended to say so much. I was brooding already, wishing I could take the words back.