Chapter 20 Gina
Gina
Something was wrong with Kimberly. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but she’d been really quiet.
She hadn’t initiated any conversation all week, which was out of character for her.
Her answers to my texts were terse, and when I invited her to come over and watch a movie Wednesday night she just said she couldn’t, with no other explanation.
I knew she’d been extra busy at work, but this seemed like more than that.
Old Me would be freaking out right now. I would have imagined a dozen increasingly elaborate scenarios in my head and then gone to her house tearfully demanding to know why she didn’t love me anymore. Or I would have spied on her, tracking her phone and stalking her social media posts.
But New Me wasn’t like that. Maybe there was something going on that she didn’t want to talk about yet.
Maybe she was depressed or something. Or maybe she just needed some space.
We’d been growing closer and closer, but after our bad breakup three years ago, I wouldn’t blame her if she was suddenly freaking out about us getting back into a serious relationship.
When Kimberly said she didn’t want to get together on the weekend though, I knew something was wrong. We’d been dating for four months now, and we’d spent every single weekend together, even the weekend that I broke out in hives after accidentally eating something with hazelnuts.
I decided to put on my big girl panties and ask what was going on.
Gina: Is everything OK? You seem kind of distant this week.
Kimberly: I have a lot on my mind right now.
Gina: Okay, I’ll give you space, but I’m here if you want to talk or you change your mind about getting together.
The only response was a thumbs up. Either something was terribly wrong or she was upset with me, and her cryptic text did nothing to soothe my nerves. After thinking things through and making sure I wasn’t overreacting, I decided to try again.
Gina: I’m not trying to be a clinger, but it seems like something is wrong. I understand if it’s something private and you don’t want to talk to me about it, but if there’s something wrong between us, I wish you’d talk to me about it.
Gina: Remember we promised to be honest and talk to each other about things that were bothering us?
My phone was silent for so long I almost gave up on hearing from her. Thirty minutes later, I heard a knock on my door. I knew it was her before I even opened the door.
“Hey.”
Kimberly stood in the hallway, her expression troubled. There were dark circles under her eyes like she hadn’t been sleeping well. What was going on?
“You’re right,” she said. “We need to talk.”
“Come on in.”
She followed me to the kitchen, sitting at the table while I got us both a bottle of water and wondered if she’d come to break up with me.
“Who was that guy?” she blurted out.
“What guy?” I asked in confusion.
“The guy you kissed and hugged and held hands with at the ice cream shop the other night. The one who looks like a handsome linebacker.”
I burst out laughing.
“Oh yeah, Kyle’s gonna love that description!”
She’d obviously seen us at the ice cream shop and instead of asking about it, she’d been distancing herself all week. It was a familiar pattern – and disappointing.
Kimberly frowned. “You told me it you were at a work meeting. What I saw didn’t look like a work meeting. It looked like a date or something. Who is Kyle exactly?”
I studied her face. “Are you jealous, or do you think I lied to you?”
“Both,” she said grudgingly.
As much as it bugged me that Kimberly had doubts about me, I couldn’t help but feel a little thrill that she cared enough to be jealous.
“It was a work meeting, but with an old friend,” I started.
“Kyle was a client back when I started at the homeless youth program. He was a skinny little thing then. His parents kicked him out because he came out as gay and he ended up living on the streets doing whatever he needed to in order to survive.”
Kimberly frowned but didn’t respond.
“I helped him get into a shelter and into counseling, and after he was stable, I didn’t see him for a while because I was assigned to work with crisis clients and he was no longer in crisis.
A few years later he showed up as a newly hired peer support specialist in my program.
He was going to community college and helping other kids get off the street and we became friends.
Then we both got laid off and other than the occasional text I didn’t see him for a few years because soon after our program closed he got a scholarship to University of Oregon and moved away.
But now he’s moved back to Seattle. With his boyfriend. ”
“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 you saw – 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.”
She licked me up and down a few times, but it didn’t take long before my nerves were humming with excitement.
My pussy was clenching on air, desperate to be filled.
As if she could hear my thoughts, Kimberly slid one finger into my channel, pumping in and out.
I pulled her hair, directing her to my clit, sighing happily when took it between her lips and started tapping it with the tip of her tongue.
“That feels so good,” I gasped. “I’m close.”
Kimberly pushed a second finger into my channel, and I was so wet it slid in easily. She picked up the pace, thrusting her fingers in and out roughly, and when she curled them, finding that special spot deep inside me, I lost my mind.
With a high pitched wail I started bucking against her face, back arching off the wall as I rode the waves of pleasure coursing through my body. My vision pricked at the edges as I struggled to breathe, all my body’s resources firmly focused on my pussy.
“Fuck,” I gasped. “Fuck.”
When I was finally sated I sagged back against the wall, panting like I’d just raced up a dozen flights of stairs.
Kimberly squeezed my thighs and watched me as I came back to myself. The sight of my arousal glistening on her face almost made me come again. I grabbed her shoulders, pulling her up so I could give her a long, hard kiss. I loved that I could taste myself on her tongue, it was hot as fuck.
When we pulled apart again, she gave me a tender smile.
“How about we order that Thai food now, and then you can have me for dessert?”