Page 36 of Not My Friend
“How was your ice cream date with a friend considered a work meeting, exactly?”
My spine stiffened at her tone. I had many faults, but lying wasn’t one of them. I prided myself on being honest, and she knew that as well as I did.
“I was doing an informational interview with him about my work as a program manager. He wants to apply for a job as a manager in another program at my agency. He’s always been super affectionate and touchy with his friends. That’s what yousaw – two old friends greeting each other before settling down to talk careers. A work thing.”
I enunciated the last sentence.
We were both silent for several long minutes and I let her take time to think. I’d learned that she was an internal processor, unlike me, and sometimes needed to mull things over. I watched as the tension gradually left her face.
“You two looked really cozy,” she finally said. “It was confusing.”
I met her eye. “Yes, and you and your cousin looked really cozy that time I saw you together too.”
The similarities between the two events were unmistakable.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sagging in her chair with relief. “I know I’ve been distant. For the record, I didn’t think you were cheating or anything like that, but it seemed like you lied to me, that’s what was bothering me.”
“Yet I didn’t,” I said firmly. “I was focused on mentoring my old friend, so I didn’t give you a long explanation of what I was doing when you texted, and by the time I got home it was after you normally go to bed so I waited for morning to reach out. Then you weren’t responding to my messages so I assumed that was a hint that you needed some space which, for the record, I would have been totally fine with if you’d just communicated with me instead of shutting me out.”
“I was a jerk,” she admitted. “I promised to talk about things and then I didn’t.”
My lips twitched. “At least you didn’t throw my stuff out of the window and scream insults at me in front of your neighbors.”
Kimberly gave me a wry look. “I’m winning at fighting.”
“Were we fighting?”
She shrugged. “I guess not. But I do think we need to work on our communication a bit more.”
“Yeah, I realized I’ve been trying so hard not to be that needy, oversensitive nag that I used to be that I might have swung too far in the other direction and not be communicating enough.”
“And I really need to share when things are bothering me instead of letting them fester,” she acknowledged. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
“How about if we order some Thai food and I’ll tell you all about my friend Kyle? I’ve got some great stories about him.”
“I’d like that.”
We both stood up and Kimberly moved closer. “I love you so fucking much.”
I looped my arms around her waist, pulling her close. “I love you too.”
She surged forward, one hand coming to hold the back of my head as her lips crashed down on mine. I opened for her and just like every time, the kiss immediately turned hot. I tilted my head, giving her better access as our tongues dueled.
It had only been a few days, but I’d missed this. Not just the physical intimacy, but the emotional connection. I was relieved that our misunderstanding was just a little hiccup. That was the nice thing about a more mature relationship – there didn’t need to be a dark moment or a dramatic break-up when things went wrong. Sure, we could have avoided a few days of each of us being worried that things were going wrong between us, but the fact that we talked it out and were able to move on was huge progress.
Hopefully, it was also an indication that our relationship was strong enough to last for the long haul.
Kimberly backed me against the wall, then dropped to her knees. My heart was thundering in my chest as she pulled down my shorts and underwear, baring me to her gaze. She wasted no time spreading my lower lips with her fingers and sliding her tongue through my folds.
“You’re so wet for me already,” she said in a voice that sounded almost awestruck. Her breath tickled my sensitive tissues, making me shiver.
“I’ve been wet since I saw you in the doorway,” I confessed.
“Naughty girl,” she teased, giving my pussy a light tap.
“I’m your naughty girl,” I countered.
“Yeah, you are.”
