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Authors: Robin Alexander

Tags: #Romance, #Lesbian

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BOOK: Next Time
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“And
you
put up with this?” Shelly asked with her brow raised. “That’s not your style.”

Ryann clamped her lips together tightly and stared at the ground. “No, it isn’t, or it didn’t used to be, but I’ve been going through this pattern with her for years. She’s insecure about a lot of things and extremely jealous. If I spend time with anyone but you, it makes her angry. I went to a movie with our mutual friends who were a couple a while back, and Leigh actually asked me if we had a threesome.”

“You’ve been together for eight years!” Shelly nearly shouted and upset Anya. After she got the baby settled again, she stared at Ryann, her eyes wide and angry. “Tell me why you stay.”

“Because I love her…or I did…I do. The other side of her, the one I met and fell in love with is what keeps me hanging on. Now…I can’t get the part of me that responded to that side back. Here I stand at the crossroads.”

“Take the path she isn’t on,” Shelly said impatiently.

Ryann leaned her head back and stared up into the trees. “This is the other reason I don’t talk to you about this, I’m embarrassed. It’s shameful to me to admit that I’ve been on this merry-go-round, and I haven’t had the sense or the courage to get off.”

“Have some self-respect, woman.”

“Just like you and Evan, I’ve built a life with her. Could you just pack a bag and easily walk away if you were in my shoes?”

“You’re asking me that today? I wanna go home and pack his bag, and if he wouldn’t leave, I’d run him off with pepper spray, maybe a flame thrower.”

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes as Shelly’s temper cooled.

“Is it financial?” Shelly asked calmly. “I could help you.”

“I can afford to live on my own. Not in this house, but somewhere else.” Ryann sighed. “This is just something I need to sort out for myself. I met a woman—”

“Oh, my God, how much more can you complicate your life? You’re not even done with this one.”

Ryann exhaled loudly and glared at Shelly. “As I was saying, I met a woman a couple of months ago. She’s the best friend of Melanie’s new girlfriend, Jana. We talked the night those two got together for the first time. She made a comment about her ex never self-analyzing. She didn’t contemplate why she did the things she did. Leigh doesn’t, either. She just reacts to things and goes on.”

“Or if she does look inside herself, she’ll never tell you what she finds.”

“That’s what I want. I want to be with someone who knows who they are, the good and the bad. I’d like to tell someone who I am and be heard. I’d like to be able to confide in someone about what I think my shortcomings are. Whatever is wrong, I want to work through it together. Basically, I crave the bond I don’t have and come to accept that I never will with Leigh.”

Shelly shrugged. “I tell Evan who he is, and he tells me who I am. I call him a jackass, and he calls me a nag. Today, I called him a dumb dickhead…I feel bad about that now. I’m still mad, but I regret that,” she said as she put Anya on her shoulder and patted her back. “So what happens if she comes home tonight and she’s the woman you fell in love with?”

“She might. The problem is, I’m not the woman she met eight years ago.” Ryann wrapped her arms around herself. “We’re strangers now, and for the first time in eight years, I don’t care. I think we may be finished.”

Chapter 3

September 2011

“Lydia seems nice,” Jana said as she prepped chicken to go onto the grill.

“Yeah, she—”

“I’m gonna ask Melanie to move in with me. I’m gonna do it tonight after everyone leaves.”

Payton missed her finger by a hair with the knife she was using to cut a bell pepper. She set it aside and stared at the back of Jana’s head. “Seriously?”

Jana stilled and stared out the window at the people gathered in her backyard. “She’s here all the time…and I like it. Tell me it’s a good idea.”

“No.”

Jana whirled around. “Payton, you’re my voice of reason, don’t screw with me. I love her, I’m happy, we’ve been together for eight months. This is the most logical next step…right?”

“It’s just that you sound so undecided about the cohabitation thing. If you have doubts, you should wait. What’s your biggest fear?”

“That she’ll say no.”

Payton laughed and shook her head. “That’s it?”

“Well, her cat hates me, but he’s going to therapy to work through his anger issues.”

Payton bit her lip to keep from laughing because Jana was dead serious. She imagined a cat lying on a couch, his paws behind his head meowing and growling as the therapist made notes. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s it. I want to share my life with her.”

“Okay,” Payton said with a smile. “If this is your decision and you’re not being pressured to make it, then I’m behind you one hundred percent.”

Jana closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Payton. “Thank you.” She pulled away and gazed at Payton with a cheeky grin. “So getting back to Lydia. How’s it going?”

Payton had met Lydia when she did some freelance work. What she found appealing was that Lydia sounded like she had a dozen different people inside of her as she did the voice work for a new animated show. The appeal had begun to wane, though, because they could not have a serious conversation without Lydia lapsing into character.

“I’m not sure. Don’t get attached just yet. This morning, I had breakfast with Steffie the Squirrel, which was kind of annoying. Lydia’s practicing for some voice work she has to do on Monday morning. I’ve asked her not to do the squirrel while we’re at your party.”

“Please tell me she doesn’t go into character when you’re having sex.”

Payton closed her eyes and tried to block “Well, hello, Ms. Beaver” spoken in a cartoon voice from her mind and failed. “Like I said, don’t get too attached.”

Jana’s jaw sagged, and Payton could tell she was about to completely lose it. She steeled herself for the forthcoming jokes, but a knock on the front door spared her the humiliation. She went back to work on the bell pepper and tried to choke down her embarrassment. The truth was that after that weekend, she planned to let Lydia and her cadre of characters gently go.

“I know you!” Payton glanced up upon hearing the familiar voice.

Ryann, clad in a sleeveless shirt and a pair of shorts, stood just inside the kitchen doorway with a very athletic blonde next to her. Payton smiled at them both. “Hey, Ryann, good to see you again.” She wiped her hands on a towel and put her hand out to Ryann’s partner. “You must be Leigh.”

“I am,” she replied coolly, and her handshake was like steel. She held Payton’s hand a little longer than normal in a vise grip as their gazes met.

Payton felt like she was being given a not-so-subtle warning but continued to smile for the sake of Jana’s party. “Ryann had nothing but great things to say about you the night we were on wingwoman duty. I’m glad I have this opportunity to meet you.”

Melanie strode through the back door beaming and pulled Ryann and Leigh into a group hug. “It’s about time I got to see you two. I feel like it’s been years.”

“I’ve been working a lot, sorry,” Leigh said in a completely different tone of voice from the one she used with Payton.

“Come outside, I want you to meet the rest of Jana’s friends. You’ll love them,” Melanie said as she dragged the pair out the door.

Jana followed, and Payton remained behind with her bell pepper. She and Melanie got along okay, but Payton realized that Melanie favored Jana’s friends who were coupled. Jana never said so, but the few times they did anything alone together, Payton got the impression that Melanie wasn’t happy about not being included. Payton tried to be considerate of the new relationship, but there were times she just wanted to have her best friend to herself.

“Oh, no,” Payton said with a wave. “I’ll just stay in here and make the salad. I’m happiest when I’m in the kitchen. Fresh drinks, anyone? Later, I’ll mop the floor.”

“Hey, are you packing nuts in that bra, or are you just happy to see me?”

Payton frowned at Lydia as she darkened the doorstep. “I know I asked you not to use that voice.”

*******

Ryann listened to the conversation between Leigh and Melanie, sometimes nodding at things they said, but her interest was elsewhere. Payton, Lydia, and Jana were seated on the other end of the table and talked to a couple whose names Ryann couldn’t remember. Ryann willed herself not to stare at Payton; instead, she gazed at the trees that shaded the entire backyard, the dog next door that paced along the fence hoping for a treat to be thrown his way, the hummingbirds visiting the feeder hanging from the arbor that covered the patio. Eventually, she glanced at the other end of the table and caught Payton’s eye. Payton smiled, then returned her attention to Lydia, who was speaking in a strange voice.

Over the years with Leigh, Ryann had developed what she considered innocent crushes on women she knew she was safe in admiring from afar. Women she knew she could never have—actresses, married women, the anchor on the morning news show, all untouchable and safe. Payton was different, though. She was real and accessible, and Ryann knew if she spent time mulling the odd feeling of familiarity in Payton’s presence, temptation to explore it might occur.

Still, she sat there stealing glimpses. Payton’s hair had grown out some. The part that had been shaved was hidden by the longer top that fell in waves just past her jaw. The change gave Payton a softer look. Ryann noted how pretty her blue eyes were and realized that their gazes had found each other again. She felt a twinge in the pit of her stomach and looked away, thinking it would be best to keep her distance from Payton, knowing that she couldn’t.

*******

Lydia might’ve been a few acorns shy of a load, but she was one hell of a volleyball player. Payton watched with satisfaction as Lydia spiked a ball Leigh couldn’t return. “In your face, Lady Thor,” she whispered as someone took the seat beside her.

“Not into volleyball?” Ryann asked with a smile.

“Love it, but I ate way too much. Jana’s barbecue chicken is a weakness. Can we just get something out of the way?”

Ryann gazed at her curiously before saying, “Sure.”

“Is Leigh the jealous type?”

Ryann pursed her lips and nodded. “That’s one of the things we’re working on. Can I ask you if Lydia’s on drugs?”

“Of that, I’m not certain. In her defense, she does a lot of character voices, and I think she gets a little confused. She’s really talented and in demand, so she works a lot. I think she’s having a problem with the off switch if you know what I mean.”

“I met Steffie the Squirrel and a very soft-spoken raccoon, but I forgot its name. Who exactly are you dating?”

Payton stared at Lydia as she bounced from foot to foot in anticipation of the next serve. She was agile, athletic, and strong as an ox; her energy was boundless when it came to sex. She had a sexy pair of bedroom eyes, desire always seemed to be lurking in their depths. Physically, she was Payton’s dream girl.

Payton scrubbed at her face and sighed. “I think it’s the damned squirrel.”

“An inter-species relationship, how exotic,” Ryann said with a laugh. “Does she—”

“Don’t go there.” Payton held up a finger. “New topic. It’s good to see you. I kept thinking our paths would cross again, but every time Jana and Melanie had one of their get-togethers, you never showed.”

“That would fall into the jealousy issue category. Leigh doesn’t like it when I go to parties without her, and she’s been working a lot lately. The company she works for merged two divisions together after the first of the year, and there have been a few demotions and layoffs. Leigh feels like her job may be in jeopardy if she doesn’t prove herself. They produce a lot of equipment used in the petrochemical industry, and that’s still a very male-dominated field. She’s putting in extra hours to show she can get the job done.”

“What’ve you been doing?”

“Working,” Ryann said with a sigh. “The high side is, I’ve got some really engaging students this year. One of my classes has really gotten into political debates. I see more future Democrats than I do Republicans. Have you written any new songs lately?”

“I started working on something new to me.” Payton sat up a little straighter. “A movie. It’s not Disney or Pixar, but the company is moving up in the animation industry fast. I’m actually singing two of my songs on the soundtrack for them.”

Ryann looked taken aback. “I guess I didn’t realize that you sang—I mean in a real voice, not the one you used that night in the bar.”

“I don’t normally. I recorded the two tracks they requested so they could hear them, and the producer felt like my voice captured the character more than the vocalist they hired. I’m headed to Broadway next.”

“Seriously?”

Payton laughed derisively. “I wish.”

“That ball was in!” Steffie the Squirrel yelled.

“Honey,” Payton called out with a smile. “Stuff the squirrel back into the cage.”

Lydia put up a thumb and whirled around ready for the next serve.

Ryann sucked her teeth. “You’re gonna dump her, aren’t you?”

“Just as fast as I can get her to the pound. The really sad thing is she’s a lot of fun. We have a good time when it’s just me and her, but she’s got a whole pack of animals…inside her.”

“So you’ll get right back out there.”

Payton shook her head. “No, I think I’m going to need some therapy before I’m brave enough to venture into the wild again.”

“It’s a scary place, the wild. I guess now we can add rabies to the host of sexually transmitted diseases out there,” Ryann said with a grin. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be joking like that at Lydia’s expense.”

“She would think that comment was hilarious. Don’t sweat it,” Payton said with a laugh.

Ryann’s phone had been chirping since she sat down. She pulled it out of her pocket and sighed. “I hate group texts. My nine-month-old niece spit baby food all over her father, and my sister sent the video to me, my mother, and other two sisters. Now they’re all trading stories.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Three sisters and three brothers.”

“Seven children?” Payton practically shouted.

Ryann laughed. “You would’ve sounded like Maria in
The Sound of Music
if you would’ve said that with a British accent. Our neighbor used to refer to us as the ‘Family Von Trapp’ when I was kid. If Mom knew how to sew, she would’ve certainly made clothes for us out of the drapes. As we started to grow up and go off to college, she and Dad would say, ‘One out, and handful more to go.’” Ryann smiled and ran a hand through her hair. “That was a big joke because it nearly killed them to see us leave home.” She narrowed her eyes. “Then they moved to Tennessee, so that whole separation anxiety thing may’ve been an act. How many siblings do you have?”

Payton returned her attention to the game. “Just a brother. Our parents died when I was eight and he was three.”

“Oh, Payton, I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. They were coming back from a weekend trip, and there was an accident on the Causeway Bridge that made everyone come to a quick stop. The semi behind my parents’ car was unable to. My uncle and his wife raised us. It’s kind of awkward between us now. My uncle and mom were very close, and when he sees me, he gets all teary-eyed even after all the time that has passed. He says I look just like her, and I can’t stand to see him like that, so I don’t visit them as often as I should.”

They fell into an awkward silence as Payton wondered why she’d just blurted all of that out. It was odd to her that she felt she could tell a relative stranger just about anything. Then again, maybe that was just it; sometimes it felt safer to purge one’s soul to someone unfamiliar. Suddenly, it made sense why so many poured out their innermost thoughts to a bartender. Well that, and the booze.

Payton inhaled sharply. “So how many nieces and nephews do you have?”

Furrows had formed in Ryann’s brow when Payton finally faced her. She cleared her throat, and her lips moved as she silently counted. “Fourteen, so that’s…ten girls, four boys—wait, eleven girls, I forgot to add Anya, so fifteen.”

“Wow, your siblings have basically doubled the herd. And what about you?”

Ryann made a face. “I am reminded every time I step into a classroom why I don’t want to venture down that road. Last school year, I watched two fourteen-year-old girls entertain themselves by sticking their fingers into their armpits and forcing the other to smell them.”

BOOK: Next Time
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