Chapter 15
15
They do get breakfast, eventually, but it’s late. Elsie wanted her fingers inside Ginny, and they weren’t about to say no. Thankfully, the resort serves all-day breakfast. They order with their naked limbs still twined together in bed. They pick the “leave at the door” option, and Ginny just hopes Elsie wasn’t actively screaming while it was delivered. Because there was a moment there, between ordering and breakfast, that Ginny made her. Just in case she hadn’t already come enough that morning.
Once they’re finally out of bed—but not out of reach, even as they sit on the deck, breakfast spread out on the table in front of them, their legs tangle under the table. Now that Ginny is allowed to touch Elsie like this, they can’t seem to stop—but once they’re finally out of bed, worry begins to niggle at the back of Ginny’s mind.
What are they doing? What have they done?
When it was actively happening, there was too much skin for Ginny to think about ramifications. They’ve wanted this for longer than they can remember. Their desire for Elsie feels like a part of their body by this point; missing it would be like missing a limb. That desire is something they know how to deal with, how to handle. They know how to move through their day-to-day life with it.
This? The consummation of that desire? They have no idea what to do.
What does this mean? feels like dark clouds in the distance.
Then Elsie reaches for the syrup at the same time Ginny does, and their hands touch. Elsie giggles, and the coming storm seems so far away.
“I can’t believe you insisted on putting on clothes for breakfast.” Elsie fakes a pout.
“Oh yes, I’m sorry I won’t sit bare-assed on our deck and spill syrup all over my tits.”
“I’d lick it off.”
Jesus, this girl.
“Calm down,” Ginny says, but they can’t help the grin that takes over their face. “We need sustenance or we’re gonna pass out.”
They’re only in a ribbed tank top and a pair of boxers—a different pair than the one they slept in, since those were damp after how long Elsie kept her mouth on their tits. Elsie’s wearing an oversized T-shirt over nothing. Her nipples are hard through the cotton, and it’s almost enough for Ginny to abandon breakfast even though she just said they needed sustenance.
“You know, I do kind of want to swim,” Elsie says.
“Gotta wait thirty minutes after eating.”
She half rolls her eyes. “I’m gonna stand in waist-high water, not swim laps. Somehow I think it’ll be fine. The bigger issue is those perfect tits would still have to be covered up.”
Ginny almost chokes on their bite of French toast. They did not expect Elsie to have such a mouth on her. The smirk on Elsie’s face says she likes surprising them.
“Can’t we just skinny-dip?” Elsie asks.
This conversation is moving a few steps faster than Ginny’s brain is. “I know it feels like we’re alone, but the other bungalows are not that far away.”
“What about after sunset?”
Ginny considers it. “Maybe.”
Elsie plucks Ginny’s phone from the table between them. She inputs the passcode, which Ginny has kept the same since Elsie programmed it into their very first phone—0712. Elsie’s birthday. Ginny would feel a little pathetic about it, except Elsie’s passcode is their birthday.
“Skinny-dipping,” she says aloud as she types. She holds up the phone to show Ginny. “Now it’s on the list, so we have to do it.”
“You know I shared that note with you and you could’ve just done that on your own phone?”
“My phone’s far away.” She looks around. “Actually, where is my phone?”
She puts both hands on her tits like she’s going to find her phone in a bra she isn’t even wearing. Before Ginny can get too sidetracked by boobs, Elsie heads into the bungalow to search. Ginny tries to focus on the French toast in front of them. The last time Ginny saw Elsie’s phone, Elsie had been taking pictures of last night’s chocolate cobbler. Before she said she wanted something that might ruin their friendship. Before she straddled Ginny’s thighs, came on their fingers. How was that barely twelve hours ago?
“Oh shit.” Elsie returns to the deck, brow furrowed and phone in her hands.
“What?”
“There’s a storm at home. I missed so many messages. Fuck.”
Ginny has lived through more snowstorms than they can remember, which means they know how to get through them, but also respect their power. “Everybody good?”
“So far. It’s supposed to be worse today.” Elsie climbs back into her chair, hugs both knees as she scrolls her messages. “Alec and Brandon are already talking about closing, but you know Dad likes to keep the store open during a storm because that’s—”
“When people need the most help,” Ginny says the end of the sentence with Elsie. It’s Mr. Hoffman’s motto for every big winter storm.
“I wish he would shift to focusing on storm preparedness and just close the damn store when it’s not safe for customers to get there anyway.”
Her thumbs fly across her phone screen, likely typing a similar message to the family group chat.
Ginny takes another bite of French toast. Elsie scowls across the table, the furrow accentuating that scar on her forehead from when she and Ginny set up a zip line from Ginny’s bedroom to the tree at the far end of their backyard.
“He’s so stubborn. ” Elsie scoffs and types another message.
Ginny reaches to put a hand on her wrist. For the first time since she found her phone, Elsie looks at them.
“There’s literally nothing you can do about a storm in the Midwest right now, Els,” they say. “Turn off notifications for your group chat. Or, you know, maybe you were right—just use my phone to look at anything. You’re supposed to be relaxing. You don’t need to worry about the store or whatever other family drama is happening right now.”
“It’s not family drama . It’s my dad making everyone else unsafe. It’s how he’s so stuck in his ways about the store, he won’t change anything, even if it would be good for business.”
“You’re not going to change his mind from however many miles away we are.”
Ginny watches Elsie’s face as she works through the decision. They’re not going to make her put her phone down—she’s a grown woman—but they release their breath when she does.
But she immediately picks it back up. “Do you think I should text Derrick to remind him to put the cover over his truck bed so it doesn’t fill with snow?”
“No,” Ginny says, almost before she finishes the question.
“But you know he always forgets—”
“If this was about the apartment you’re still on the lease for even if you’re not sure what’s happening when you get back, yes. For his truck that you have no financial stake in? No.”
“But—”
“You’re not responsible for him anymore, Els. I mean, you shouldn’t have had to be responsible for him then, either—he’s an adult. But it’s definitely not on you now.”
Elsie doesn’t respond. They haven’t actually talked about the end of her engagement since it happened. Ginny checks in sometimes, but just a how you doing? , nothing beyond that. She seems okay, right? She’s certainly been happy this whole vacation. She was happy this morning, that’s for sure.
Ginny swallows a sudden rock in her throat. What if this morning was a rebound? Elsie’s engagement is over and she doesn’t know what comes next, and she rebounded with the first person available. The last piece of French toast on Ginny’s plate suddenly looks unappetizing. She moves it around with her fork.
They’re supposed to be pushing Elsie to think about what she wants. Last night, Elsie said she wanted to enjoy dinner and wait until today to think about real life. Ginny doesn’t want to know what she thinks about real life today. Not after this morning. If she’s going to break Ginny’s heart, Ginny would rather she put it off a little longer.
Ginny knows what they want. Ginny could tell Elsie everything. They’ve been in love with her since before they knew what love was. The girl with white-blonde hair who moved in next door. Elsie has so many siblings, but Ginny didn’t notice a single one that day. Once the moving truck had gone, Ginny’s parents sent them over with brownies. Elsie answered the door. That was it for Ginny, even if she didn’t know it at the time. She was a goner.
They don’t need to tell Elsie any of that. Don’t need to embarrass themself. This can be whatever this is, and that’s fine. That’s enough.
“Okay.” Elsie’s voice pulls Ginny from their spiral. “Swim time?”
“Swim time,” Ginny says.
They go into the bathroom to change. Not to hide, obviously. Elsie has seen plenty, even before this morning. They just have to pee, so it makes sense to bring their bathing suit in with them.
They leave the water running after they wash their hands and look at themself in the mirror. Everything is fine. It’s good, even. They’re in paradise with their favorite person. If this is just a vacation fling, it’s worth it. Ginny is never going to regret any of this. Elsie will always be their best friend. That friendship can change without ending. If they made it through sophomore year, they can make it through anything.