Page 11 of Not My Friend
I inched forward until I could smell the mint on her breath mingled with the coconut scent of her shampoo. I’d always loved that scent. My body was humming with excitement being this close to her, and my brain was… well, it wasn’t thinking of anything other than kissing this woman and making her mine again.
Then I heard a car driving by, the engine loud, and I came to my senses with a jolt. What the hell was I doing? I knew better than to make the same mistake twice. These feelings had to be about the sense of familiarity that came from being around each other again, and the complicated emotions of a painful breakup that never really had closure before now. That had to be all it was.
I was here to do a job, nothing else. I definitely did not want to lose my job because my ex-girlfriend seemed to have put some lust spell over me.
Taking a shaky breath, I pulled back, creating distance between us. I saw a brief flash of disappointment in her expression, then she scooted away too, as if she’d also remembered why getting closer was a bad idea. That was another way she had changed. The old Gina would have insisted on kissing me or pouted and acted hurt that I hadn’t. This Gina took it in stride, clearly recognizing the same way I did that kissing each other again was the mother of all bad ideas.
“We should probably head back,” she said, her voice remarkably calm. “There are still quite a few files to go through. We can finish our cones on the way.”
We walked back to her office in silence, as if we hadn’t opened our hearts and come very close to kissing on a public sidewalk. After a quick restroom break we stopped in the employee lounge to help ourselves to a cup of shitty coffee, then got back to work, both of us pretending like nothing strange had happened.
Except it had.
We hunkered down in the conference room, a little of the ease that we’d been feeling gone now. The almost-kiss seemed to hang in the air between us, almost like another occupant in the room. As Gina reviewed the intricacies of a family’s case plan, I found myself staring at her lips instead of listening to her words. And when I went through the checklist for another file, I could feel her gaze straying to me over the top of her laptop, although she turned away when I glanced up. I was missing my coworker Mary, not only for her expertise in case management, but I could have really used a buffer right now.
Why do you need a buffer? You hate Gina,I reminded myself.
Except I didn’t. Not anymore. Even before she’d apologized to me I’d had a hard time telling myself I still hated her. I didn’t know what that said about me. She’d hurt me. Humiliated me. Literally tossed me on the street along with all my belongings because of her insecurity. It had taken me months to get over herand even today, three years later, I found it hard to trust anyone because of what she’d done.
But this Gina was different than I remembered. It was like the parts I loved about her were still there, and the parts that had been problematic were gone now. She’d stopped speaking with a question mark at the end of every sentence, like she was always second guessing herself, and now communicated in a confident manner. She showed a level of consideration and self-awareness that hadn’t been present back then, not focused so much on herself all the time.
And while she’d always shown care and compassion for her clients, the fact that she’d built this program from scratch was something I couldn’t help but admire. The way she gave credit to her team instead of taking all the glory for herself was also impressive.
Then again, this was Work Gina. I didn’t know for sure how Personal Life Gina acted now. Was she still super needy and insecure? Was she still afraid to be alone for too long? Did she still analyze everything people said to look for some insult in their words? Or had the work she’d done made her more confident in relationships the same way she was at work?
I promised myself I was not going to find out. Except that I really wanted to.
***
Four years ago…
“You should move in with me.”
I blinked in surprise and lifted my head off Gina’s chest so I could see her face. Was she joking? No, the look she gave me was one hundred percent serious.
“We’ve only been dating for a few weeks,” I reminded her.
When we first met at the bar six weeks ago, the attraction between us had been instant. But we’d told each other we’d just be friends. Gina was just getting out of a bad relationship, and I was still exploring what it meant to be a lesbian after finally coming out a little more than a year ago. My friends were all urging me to play the field, see where I fit in this new queer world I’d finally admitted that I was a part of.
But I didn’t want to play the field. Not anymore. Not since I met Gina.
Our vow to just stay friends lasted about a week. We’d been having sex pretty much non-stop ever since. I never even knew it could be this good. Then again, I hadn’t slept with a lot of women before meeting Gina.
Plus I didn’t really know too much about her. All the sexy times hadn’t left a lot of time for us to talk and get to know each other the way we probably should before we moved in together.
“I know it’s fast,” Gina continued. “But we’ve spent every night together for the last month. You might as well live here, it’ll be easier. And you’ll save on rent.”
“Wow, that’s a super romantic proposal,” I teased.
Gina winced. “Sorry. I thought I’d focus on the practical side first, but the truth is, I’m crazy about you. I like going to sleep with you at night and waking up with you in the morning. I want this every day. I want you every day.”
I believed her, and the truth was, I felt the same.
But I wasn’t one hundred percent sure this was a good idea, especially so soon in our relationship. Gina was already kind of clingy, wanting to be together every spare minute, and I knew instinctively that if we lived together it would be hard to have time for myself and my own relationships.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spend as much time as possible with her, but I also didn’t want to be that person who had to bring her girlfriend to every happy hour or dinner or social engagement with friends. I’d always hated people who were like that, who acted like they couldn’t be away from their significant other for even a few hours, but that was how Gina was. And would expect me to be.
We also really didn’t know each other that well yet. We hadn’t even met each other’s friends or families yet. That was something you should do before making a decision to cohabitate, right?
