Girl Crush(32)
As the weeks went by, I quit discussing my dating gaffes with any of them. There was no point—they just made fun of me. It hadn’t mattered who I’d gone out with—and at this point, there had been a plethora of female companions—I couldn’t get past the first kiss. The instant the foreplay got to be too much, I totally flaked out. I couldn’t get past the fascination of staring at another female and not averting my gaze, which in turn, freaked out the women I hadn’t bothered to tell this was all new to me. But even after weeks of botched attempts, I refused to throw in the towel and return to men.
I’d decided to slow my roll, jumping straight into meeting hadn’t worked, being upfront about my lack of experience had backfired, trying to be friends first had only gotten me more friends, but that’s where my plan came to a grinding halt. I didn’t want a relationship. I wasn’t interested in commitment. At this point, I hadn’t had an orgasm, self-induced or otherwise, since that night on the dance floor with Roxie. But instead of a full-court press, I decided to invest heavily in a stash of Duracell batteries and take my time seeking my next girly encounter.
Just like my male-dating experiences, when I quit looking, what seemed to be perfection reached out to me through some site I hadn’t realized or hadn’t remembered that I’d signed up for. Heather. The instant I finished reading her email, it dawned on me that maybe I shouldn’t have been trying to find someone to show me the ropes, and instead, found someone like me—wet behind the ears. I reread her email several times before responding to ensure I’d understood, but to be on the safe side, I just admitted in my response I had no real history of dating women. Then I asked if she was interested in embarking on this together—fumbling through the experience might be easier with someone else who’d had sausage but had gone kosher and now sought seafood.
She was just as apprehensive as I was, unsure of all the things that changed when you made the switch. Heather wasn’t in a hurry to meet up, and she wasn’t looking for a relationship. She just wanted to play, explore. She hadn’t been burned by men—she’d been bored with them. I clapped and bounced around on my couch reading what seemed to be our hundredth exchange. Even through the written words, I could sense her sarcasm and laidback personality, but we wrote back and forth for weeks before actually exchanging phone numbers.
When we started texting, it was like having a dirty secret…one that was fun and arousing, but I wasn’t ready to share with anyone else. I’d been talking to her all day but knew I was about to have to cut the conversation short. I’d promised Beck I’d come over to hang out by the pool. She had invited all of us, including Roxie. I loved when we all got together, but I knew I would have to hide my phone and sneak messages to Heather or face the firing squad.
Ronnie and Trish had offered to pick me up on their way, but I wasn’t a fan of not having an escape route if I got ready to leave, so I chose to drive myself. My heart sank just a bit when I pulled up in front of Beck’s house, and the familiar red 911 wasn’t parked in the driveway. I hadn’t expected him to be here, but after the near drowning incident, Collier and I had exchanged pleasantries on the regular via text. Sometimes they verged on flirtatious, but mostly, they were just friendly. I pushed the disappointment aside, refusing to admit that his attention meant anything other than he was Beck’s twin, and she’d fast become one of my closest friends.
Everyone was out by the pool when I arrived and had already started drinking. It was a good thing West wasn’t here—he’d be pissed off at the giddy, girl chatter in his backyard. There was a hitch in my step when I realized there was a new addition to our clan. The redhead was retro-chic and “with” Roxie. It reminded me of the first night we’d gone to the roller derby. I shoved off the twinge of jealousy I felt and then bypassed the unease that tugged at my stomach when it dawned on me that I was now the seventh wheel on the Lesbo-Express.
I settled on a chair nestled within the group and stripped down to my suit and laid out my towel, still not having been introduced to the newest clan member at Tribal Council.
“Damn, Giselle. Is that dental floss?” Beck’s voice was louder than it needed to be to address the six other people sitting within spitting distance.
Still standing, I glanced down at my navy-blue bikini. “It’s new, do you like it?”
“Where’s the rest of it?” Beck was hardly one for modesty.
“It’s not that skimpy.” I shrugged. “I don’t want visible tan lines.” Beck exaggerated how risqué the suit really was. It covered all my bits and pieces, but it highlighted my assets as well.
“Were you hoping this wasn’t an all-girl gathering?” Ronnie raised her brows at me in question. She’d been pushing the West card harder and harder the longer my dry spell continued.
“Or maybe I was hoping to catch the interest of one of you panty pleasers.” I gave my best friend a grimace mixed with a sarcastic scowl. Just to drive home the possibility, I bent over seductively, with my ass facing the house and my cleavage on full display for my friends. I used my biceps to squeeze my melons together just slightly to show them just what they were missing.
When they all started laughing under their breath, I shook what the good Lord gave me, and put my ass on my towel. Before I lay down, I reached over Roxie and held out my hand to the stranger. “I’m Giselle. It’s nice to meet you, even though these heifers are too rude to properly introduce anyone.”