Chapter Nine #2
“Yeah, it felt like that. Usually when I’ve been in a big group, it’s either for a work thing, where I’m organizing it or networking the whole time, or it was a party with Derek and his friends, where I never felt like I fit in, and I was always trying to be the perfect girlfriend or whatever.” She shook her head. “God, I can’t believe I stayed with him for so long.”
Taylor patted her knee. She let her hand linger there.
“That’s okay,” she said. “There’s no point in beating yourself up for it now; the important thing is that you figured it out, and you moved on.”
Avery smiled at her, long and slow.
“I definitely have moved on,” she said. She curled her thumb around Taylor’s. “And I’m feeling great about it.”
Taylor was feeling pretty great about it right now as well. She realized she’d been holding herself back from flirting with Avery— really flirting with Avery—for weeks now. And it felt so good to finally be able to flirt like hell with her. Finally, she got to caress her hand like this, lightly, so lightly, and think about touching her like that all over her body. Finally, she got to see that heavy-lidded look in her eyes that told Taylor that Avery was imagining how she’d touch her like that elsewhere. Finally, she got to let her glance linger on that red bra strap, and at the tiny hint of red lace she could see under Avery’s dress when she moved. Finally, she got to let the attraction she felt for Avery run free.
And if she was a good judge of women in general and Avery in particular—and she was—she was almost certain that Avery was just as attracted to her. She knew Avery was attracted to her; obviously she knew that, she’d known it for a long time. But there was a difference between being attracted to someone, in a general sense, and wanting to act on it. Did Avery want to act on this? Right now, in this second, Taylor thought she did.
She probably wouldn’t, though. Because Avery was smart, and acting on this attraction between the two of them wasn’t the smart thing to do. Plus, Avery’s whole thing was that she wanted to flirt in general, yes, but she also wanted to date women, plural, to sow her wild oats or whatever she’d said.
And Taylor couldn’t act on this. Even though right now, in this second, she really wanted to. She felt protective of Avery and how new she was to this. Taylor didn’t want to take advantage of her.
Also, by this time, she knew Avery well enough to know that if anything happened between the two of them, Avery would want too much, more than Taylor could give her. Taylor didn’t want to start something she couldn’t finish, at least, not in the way Avery would want. That wouldn’t be fair to her.
And the bet! How could she forget, even briefly, about that fucking bet with Erica? Erica would be all smug and say, I told you so , about how Taylor couldn’t even make it a few months. And she absolutely did not want to organize a baby shower; what a nightmare that would be. She must be really getting carried away to forget about the bet. Absolutely nothing could happen tonight.
She had to change the subject, ask Avery about something different, something boring, so that she could still do this, but not make it quite as dangerous for herself.
“How’s the garden stuff going?”
Avery’s face lit up. Damn it. She looked too excited for this to tamp down Taylor’s roaring libido.
“It’s good! Beth and I are both having a lot of fun with it. One of us is at the garden almost every day, and we’re usually there at the same time at least twice a week, always on Sundays. This is so dorky, but we’re always texting each other pictures of what the garden looks like when one of us is there alone and updating the other one about our plants and stuff. Our first cherry tomatoes ripened this week, and it was so exciting. Even though we didn’t plant the tomato plants, we’ve taken care of them for a month, so they feel like ours. And, I don’t know, there’s something about being outside, smelling the plants and leaves, getting my hands in the dirt, but I always come home from the garden in such a good mood.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe that everyone who preaches about how great the outdoors is for your mental health is right. How depressing.”
Taylor laughed, and Avery laughed with her. Partly at what Avery said, but also because it felt really good to see Avery looking so happy. Taylor didn’t credit herself with this change in Avery; of course it wasn’t because of her. In a way it might be because of their flirting lessons, but only because Avery had thrown herself into them and worked hard at opening herself up to people.
“I’m really proud of you,” Taylor said. Avery looked at her sideways, and Taylor squeezed her hand. “That seemed like it came out of nowhere, didn’t it? It’s just…you’ve come a long way. Not only with the flirting, with everything.”
Avery looked away for a moment, and Taylor wondered whether that had sounded condescending, if she’d crossed some sort of line. But then Avery looked back at her, and Taylor saw that her eyes were full of tears.
“Thank you,” she said. “That means a lot. I…I feel like that, too. I’ve been really trying to push myself out of my comfort zone, and it’s been hard, but good. I’m glad you can see it, too.”
“I definitely can,” Taylor said. “I hope—
“TWO VODKA CRANBERRIES. TWO. VODKA. CRANBERRIIIIIEEES.”
Taylor and Avery both turned and stared up at the man standing far too close to them and shouting far too loudly at the bartender. Taylor looked around to see that the bar was a lot more crowded than it was when they’d arrived. She leaned in closer to Avery.
“You want to get out of here?”
Avery nodded. Taylor pulled cash out of her pocket and tossed it on the bar, and then saw two women standing together behind the loud dude, obviously trying to get the swamped bartender’s attention. She caught the eye of one of them, and made the universal we’re leaving, want our seats? gesture, to which the other woman nodded gratefully. The four of them executed the switch, right under the outraged eyes of the loud man and his buddy, and she and Avery walked to the door. Taylor rested her hand on the small of Avery’s back as they moved through the crowd.
“You’re so good at that,” Avery said.
“So good at what?” Taylor asked as they got to the door of the bar.
Avery smiled.
“You know. Supporting other women.”
Taylor felt relieved by that smile. She’d suggested leaving on an impulse, once it got so crowded, and when she’d realized they’d been low-key shouting so they could hear each other for the past fifteen minutes. But once they’d gotten up to leave, she’d wondered if this would be it for tonight, if she and Avery would walk outside and Avery would take a step back from her, give Taylor one of her sweet, infectious laughs, ask for her grade on her flirting midterm, and then Taylor would simply drive her home and wave goodbye.
But Avery was still by her side, still smiling at her, still looking at her like she was a plump, juicy strawberry, just waiting to be gobbled up. Was she looking at Avery like that? Almost certainly yes.
“Where to next?” Avery asked her.
Taylor thought for a second.
“Want to walk down to the Barrel? I don’t go there that often, since as much as I adore Margot, she’s always there, and I don’t need to hang out during my off hours with my boss. But since she and Luke are on their way to San Francisco…”
“Perfect. I love that place,” Avery said.
Taylor dropped her hand from the small of Avery’s back, but they still walked closely together, Avery’s skirt brushing against her legs, their hands touching once, twice, three times, until finally their fingers intertwined. Avery’s hand was warm and soft, and her grip on Taylor’s firm. So different from earlier in the night, when Avery’s move to turn her hand over so they were—sort of—holding hands was tentative, something that could be pretended away if Taylor had moved. Now she held on to Taylor’s hand with certainty. Taylor liked it. A lot.
They stopped outside the Barrel to let a big group walk by, and Taylor looked up at Avery. She always forgot that Avery was taller than her, since so often they were sitting next to each other, not standing or walking together. Even with Avery in flats, and her in sneakers, Avery was at least four inches taller than her, tall enough that she had to look up at her.
Avery let go of Taylor’s hand and lifted hers to Taylor’s hair.
“Are you growing this out?” she asked, stroking the shaved area above Taylor’s right ear. Taylor’s eyes fluttered closed for a second at the gentle tickle as Avery’s fingers brushed against the stubble there.
“Not exactly,” she said. “I’ve been lazy about going to get it touched up, and I can’t do it myself. I’ve tried, and it was not a good experiment. I’m not very good at that kind of thing.” She raised an eyebrow at Avery, whose fingers were still in her hair. “Should I grow it out? It would definitely make things easier. Less maintenance.”
Avery moved her fingers back and forth against Taylor’s hair again, in a way that made Taylor’s whole body react.
“No,” Avery said. “Don’t grow it out. I like it.”
Avery smiled down at her. Had Avery moved closer to her, or had Taylor moved closer to Avery? Taylor didn’t know, but she knew that she wanted them to be even closer.
“Avery.”
Avery’s eyes were intent on hers.
“Yeah?” she asked, almost in a whisper.
“Now is when you kiss me.”
Avery’s hand moved from her hair to her cheek, and Avery bent down to Taylor as Taylor reached up to her. Her lips barely touched Taylor’s, a soft brush of them at first, and then gentle pressure that Taylor returned. The kisses got longer, but they were still soft, gentle, light yet tantalizing kisses that reminded Taylor of that way she’d stroked Avery’s hand earlier in the night. She wanted to speed it up and pull her close, but she let Avery control this. Every brush of her lips made Taylor’s entire body quiver.
She put her hand on Avery’s waist, not hard, just so she could touch her more, feel that part of her body, feel the skin underneath her thin dress.
That must have been some sort of signal to Avery that Taylor really wanted this, though she had no idea how Avery could be ignorant of that. Avery’s tongue slid into her mouth, and Taylor could have cried out in victory. Instead, she pulled Avery flush against her body, kissed her harder, let her hands grip Avery’s waist, then roam upward until her fingers tangled in Avery’s hair. Their lips and tongues danced together, soft and hard, gentle and firm, sweet and yearning, all at the same time.
Taylor slid her lips down so she could kiss Avery’s throat, her neck, her collarbone. Avery sighed, her hands moving up Taylor’s back, gripping tightly and letting go in turn. God, it was going to be fun to learn what she liked.
Then Taylor lifted her head again and went back to Avery’s incredible lips. Avery kissed her back, harder than before, more determined, more intent. Taylor liked this side of her a lot.
“Avery?” Taylor said in a low voice.
“Mmm?”
“Do you really want to go inside?”
They laughed softly together.
“I don’t think so, no,” Avery said. “You?”
Taylor grinned at her.
“For me, it’s absolutely not.”
Taylor took her hand. As they walked back toward her car, Taylor remembered the whole list of reasons she’d given herself, less than an hour ago, about why absolutely nothing would or could happen between her and Avery tonight. Oh well. She could deal with all of that tomorrow.
When they got to Taylor’s car, Avery didn’t want to let go of Taylor’s hand. Which was silly, she knew it was silly, but she didn’t care. She was going to let herself be as silly as she wanted to be tonight, because she was having one of those nights where everything she did was right, and everything she touched turned to gold. She made herself release her probably too-tight grip on Taylor’s hand and got in the car. She had no idea what was going to happen after this, but she was going to let the magic continue.
Taylor settled in her seat, and without even thinking about it, Avery leaned over to kiss her. Taylor immediately kissed her back. She was as good a kisser as Avery had expected her to be—probably even better, actually. For half a second, Avery wondered whether she wasn’t good enough a kisser for someone like Taylor, but then she lost herself in the kiss. It was impossible to think about anything when Taylor Cameron kissed you other than how good it felt to kiss her, how you wanted to keep kissing her forever.
Too soon, Taylor pulled away and started the car.
“Where to?” she asked.
“Um. My place? It’s closest,” Avery said. Why was she so uncertain when she said that? Because even though she’d done a lot of things out of her comfort zone lately, this was very far out of it. Even though she wanted this.
Without a word, Taylor pulled out of the parking spot and drove toward Avery’s apartment.
Did Taylor want this, want her, just as badly? That felt impossible, until she remembered the way Taylor had looked at her when they were sitting at the bar, that tone in her voice outside of the Barrel when she’d commanded Avery to kiss her, that hunger in her touch.
She hadn’t expected this tonight. Not at the beginning of the night, and not even after her flirting midterm had gone so swimmingly. She hadn’t expected their chemistry to be so good, especially after weeks of hanging out just as friends, with occasional light flirting, but nothing like this. She’d been attracted to Taylor, and yes, had a crush on Taylor, from the very beginning, but she didn’t think that attraction would be returned, not in any real way. Even after they were sitting at the bar hand in hand, with their legs almost intertwined, she didn’t really think that Taylor was actually attracted to her. She’d figured that was just Taylor—she had chemistry with everyone, everyone fell for her, that’s why she could do things like get phone numbers wherever she went, and have every bartender fall half in love with her, and give flirting lessons, for God’s sake. Of course she could turn on flirting like a switch!
So it had been easy to just relax into flirting with Taylor, without wondering what was going to happen next. But then, after they’d left the bar and started walking toward the Barrel, something had changed. Avery had felt it happen, as they’d walked down the street together, when their hands had touched, then clung to each other’s like magnets, when they’d moved closer and closer to each other. She could feel that Taylor wanted to be there with her. Not with just someone, but with her, specifically. If she hadn’t felt that, she never would have had the courage to touch Taylor’s hair in that way, in a way that showed she wanted more.
Despite all those things, she still never would have had the courage to kiss her, not until Taylor told her to do it. She’d wanted to—good Lord, she’d wanted to—but she’d needed something to push her past her fear and uncertainty. Taylor had clearly known that. If Taylor hadn’t told her to kiss her, she wouldn’t have done it, no matter how Taylor had looked at her, touched her.
She should probably be embarrassed at how little she’d hesitated after Taylor had told her to kiss her, but she wasn’t. Not at all. All she had the capacity to feel right now was anticipation about what was going to happen when she and Taylor got back to her apartment.
Well, she was also a tiny bit nervous about that. What would they do? What would Taylor expect? What did she , Avery, want? She didn’t know the answers to any of those questions.
“You’re quiet over there,” Taylor said as they stopped at a red light.
Avery smiled at her.
“Just wondering when I’ll get my grade for my midterm.”
Taylor let out her loud, joyful laugh.
“Oh, that was a solid A performance, from beginning to end, but don’t even try to pretend you didn’t know that.”
Avery let her smile become a little smug. Okay, maybe a lot.
“Obviously I knew that, but I wanted to hear you say it.”
Taylor’s hand squeezed hers.
“Then I’m glad you asked. I’m happy to shout it from the rooftops.”
As they walked up the stairs to Avery’s apartment, Taylor glanced around the outside of the building.
“It’s weird that I’ve never seen your apartment. I wonder if it’s anything like I picture it.”
Avery turned to her as she pulled her keys out of her bag.
“How do you picture it? Now I need to know that before you come in.”
Taylor sighed, but with a smile on her face.
“See, now I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m probably going to get this all wrong and offend you in the process.”
Avery waved that away.
“I still want to hear it.”
“Fine.” Taylor paused for a moment. “This is all just off the top of my head, but: completely immaculate; your closet is organized by color; everything is decorated in, like, warm neutrals but also lots of things that design people refer to as ‘pops of color’ with those cute and also useful knickknacks that I only see on Instagram; throw pillows everywhere; lots of plants, tons of books.” She paused. “Oh, and a perfectly made bed; you strike me as one of those people who makes your bed every morning as soon as you get out of it.”
Avery said nothing. She just unlocked her door, pushed it open, and flipped on the lights. She stood there at the door, Taylor by her side, as Taylor looked from her camel-colored couch with four bright throw pillows on it to her brass and pink lamps to her many plants, all in different but coordinating planters. She silently closed the door.
“Well.” Avery hung her bag on the carved wooden coatrack on her door. “I guess you’ve gotten to know me pretty well.”
Taylor was silent as she walked around the room. Finally, she stopped next to the basket that Avery kept next to her couch and looked inside it.
“You have a decorative basket…filled with blankets.” Taylor giggled and dropped down on the couch.
“Why is that so funny?” Avery stood in front of her, her hands on her hips. “It gets so hot here in the summer, but sometimes still chilly at night, and the basket is a great place to put the blankets away but still have them accessible, just in case, and—”
Before she could finish, Taylor grabbed one of her hands and pulled her down onto the couch.
“She’s explaining the practicality of the cute but also useful decorative basket,” Taylor said to an imaginary audience.
Avery tried not to crack a smile, but it was hard.
“Look, I already told you that you were right about me, you don’t need to rub it in.”
Taylor grinned at her.
“Your closet?”
Avery nodded.
“In order by color, then subdivided by occasion. So, like, work clothes in one section, weekend clothes in another. I’m never quite sure where pink is supposed to go in the color order, though. I put it in right after red, though some people put it in at the beginning of the purple section; that just feels wrong to me.”
Taylor’s face was full of mirth.
“Your bed.”
Avery cleared her throat.
“I make it every morning,” she said. “Though, this morning…”
“Wait, don’t tell me—you were in a rush, so you didn’t plump up the pillows?”
Avery rolled her eyes.
“Of course not, I would never not plump up the pillows. No, I was in a rush, so I didn’t refold the decorative blanket that lives at the foot of the bed.”
Taylor let out a loud shout, and finally Avery couldn’t help but join her. “I’m sorry that I’m so predictable,” Avery said.
Taylor shook her head.