Chapter 17 Figurative Bingo Card
Chapter 17
Figurative Bingo Card
T he wedding party had more photos to take, so I followed my new group inside where the venue had been magically transformed during the ceremony with round tables, a bar, and a dance floor. My table assignment sat me, currently, alone, but I temporarily moved to another table with the others waiting for their dates until the wedding party minus the brides appeared.
“Were you too bored?” Sofia asked as they crowded around me, then laughed as everyone realized they weren’t at the right table. I waved goodbye to the new group and navigated my friends over to the right spot.
“No need to be bored when in the company of the hot young people,” Chloe said with a wave of her hand toward the other group.
“No one’s that much younger than us,” CJ said, and their obvious eschewing of hot made us, minus Chloe, laugh.
I glanced at her and her furrowed brow, and leaned in close. My lips were close to her ear in a way we never were in public. It was genuinely hard not to brush my lips against her, scrape my teeth against her earlobe. “If I wanted a young fake date I’m sure I would have nicely mentioned this when I turned your offer down.”
She snorted and a warm rush of gratefulness hit me that maybe she’d been a little insecure or—well, jealousy wasn’t an attractive trait, but I felt certain that there wouldn’t have been brow-furrowing if she wasn’t also considering the possibility that this was real. “You’d have to learn TikTok like a youth.”
“I’m in charge of media planning, buying, and execution for my job,” I said with a laugh. “I already know TikTok like a youth. Or at least an approaching-middle-age person who knows how to market to youths.”
“Clementine is very good at thinking like a youth, yes,” Phoebe said, and I tried to take that as a hopeful sign that all my work aspirations weren’t already dead in the water. Maybe I shouldn’t have emphasized my approaching-middle-age-ness in front of Phoebe, though obviously Phoebe knew how old I was.
Chloe was still leaned in closer to me than usual, and even though it wasn’t good for that pulsing beat of need within me, I counted it as a positive sign overall. I wanted something about last night to be tangible, and the lack of space between us felt like proof it had happened.
“Also I hear TikTok is very gay,” Phoebe continued.
“ Very ,” I said.
“Or at least your algorithm is,” CJ said with a laugh. “Which is basically your soul.”
“I hope that isn’t true,” Phoebe said with a frown. “The soul thing, not the gay thing.”
CJ shrugged, and soon we were all laughing again. It hit me that today had the feeling of the last day of camp, the new friends you made in record time about to disperse back into the world. Except in this case, they’d still have each other, and I’d be dispersed alone.
Unless, of course—
I couldn’t decide how unhinged it was to think it was possible. Could I really put so much faith in a furrowed brow and a couple of shared glances? The look in Chloe’s eyes last night when she kissed me? The gaze we held earlier today, the gaze we held last night?
Luckily, saving me from dwelling on any of it any longer, the brides arrived to raucous applause, and they sat at a table of honor, just the two of them. Servers streamed in with salads and small plates, and I let myself lose track of my concerns for at least the meal. The meal, though, went on for a while, course after course, and by the time we were taking the last bites of our steaks and salmon and vegetarian risotto, the DJ was playing and the mood felt full of just about anything but concern . My only concern, I realized, was wondering just how long it would be until Chloe and I were alone together again.
And not for conversation.
Still, it was a party . I danced in a group with most of our table, and joined my new-ish kind-of-friends as well. It felt like we were all constantly moving, to the dance floor, to wait for custom cocktails at the bar, back to the table to chat, rest, recharge.
Chloe’s arm brushed mine as she sat down next to me at the table, where I’d been chugging Diet Coke and chatting with CJ about digital media. Chloe and I hadn’t touched on the dance floor—I couldn’t be sure of her reasoning, but I knew that I didn’t fully trust myself to touch her only a little when what I wanted was absolutely my hands over absolutely all of her—and I nearly jumped out of my seat. My skin seemed to have gained a new ability, some kind of doubled sensation of contact. I felt like an open gasoline line dangerously ready to blow at the sign of any spark.
“You OK there?” Chloe asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m fine,” I said, wondering how much I should admit to her. Though that much I felt she could probably feel on my skin, smell from my pores. My hunger suddenly felt tangible. “Just … you know, impatient .”
“Oh, sure,” she said with a curt nod. “I’m feeling impatient too.”
“Wait, you are?” I asked, because no matter the magic of last night, no matter that Chloe had also said perfect , I knew that it must have been more special to me than to Chloe. For me, a series of firsts. For her—well, it hopefully was more than getting head from a newbie. Still, she’d had nights like that before, I had to assume. Maybe—hopefully?—she had feelings for me, but I’d still been pretty sure I had been the only one aching to get back to that room and that bed.
I’d definitely been sure I had been the only one who was willing to admit it.
“Come with me,” she said, standing up and reaching out for my hand. I laced my fingers through hers as we walked through the reception room and realized it was the first time we’d held hands like this, a couple for the whole world to see. A little squishy.
Chloe led me down a hallway and nudged an unmarked door open. “Come on.”
“What is that?” I asked.
“It’s an old storage closet for business paperwork and shit.”
“Why do you know this?” I asked. “Why are you showing me this?”
“You know that I’m very nosy,” she said. “So while you and CJ were having whatever conversation about robots and digital media, I gave myself a little tour, and thought, if I’m going to get to fuck Clementine in that dress before late tonight, I’d better find a good place for it.”
“ Chloe ,” I said, as heat flooded into my face—and parts further south.
She tugged me into the room and locked the door behind us. It felt unreal, a dirty dream or the loose plot of a porn, but here we were in a dusty room with sunshine flooding in from a high window, and Chloe kissed me as if she’d been as ready to as I was.
“Have you done this before?” I asked her, watching as she stood there with the warm light illuminating the sharp lines of her jawline and the softness of her cheeks as she smiled in my direction. I felt like the luckiest person in the whole world right then. “Sex in a broom closet?”
“Storage closet,” she corrected, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me close again. “Do you see any brooms in here?”
I pointed to the corner. “There’s literally one right there.”
“Stop looking for brooms,” Chloe said, covering my mouth with hers. I gave in to the kiss because I couldn’t control myself, but was ready to pull away and head out from this room. Tonight would come soon enough.
Chloe, though, knew exactly what she was doing, and deepened the kiss as one hand let go of my waist and found my breast, and soon we were making out frantically against a stack of file boxes, like teenagers who’d just heard about second base.
“We can’t do this,” I said, trying to get back both my breath and my self-control. “People are walking past this room.”
“I’ll be very quiet,” Chloe said in a soft voice that still, somehow, sounded only like sex. Chloe Lee, begging for me with her tone. “And it’s at least a little hot, isn’t it? Knowing people are innocently walking by us while …”
She grabbed the hem of my dress, pushed up the skirt, and hooked her thumb through my underpants right over my hip. I gasped at both the surprise and the impropriety of the action. Last night had been like a dream, slowly finding something together in the quiet dark. This was boldness in the fading last light of sunset.
“I won’t actually do this if you don’t want me to,” Chloe said, soft and low. I wondered if she already realized what her voice could do to me. I felt embarrassingly transparent. “Just say the word …”
“You know I want you to,” I murmured, leaning back against the wall and wrapping a leg around Chloe’s hip. “It’s all I can think about and I think you know it.”
“Did you wear these panties for me?” she asked in a husky voice, tugging them aside and then back, playing with the fabric between my legs as she watched me. “I guess you know all of my weaknesses now.”
I’d managed to mostly keep Will out of my head since last night, but watching Chloe restrain herself at just the sight of me made me realize just how long it had been since I’d felt this desired. Will and I had been two horny teenagers when we first slept together; I’d marveled at sharing my body with someone else, and the intimacy of getting off with this guy I’d been crazy about. Afterwards I’d felt both new and full of wise secrets, even when I was away from Will. And when I was away from Will, most of what I thought of back then was getting back to Will, back to his bed and his body and the new places we found together. Still, had I ever felt this singularly appreciated? Had he ever drawn so sharp a breath as he gazed at my body?
“What are you thinking about?” Chloe asked.
“How nice this feels,” I said. “The way you look at me.”
For a moment it felt like her lustful gaze clouded over with something else, but then she leaned me back harder into the wall and pressed into me. When I’d dreamed of this new life I’d had, having sex in a storage closet right outside of a queer wedding reception had not been on my figurative bingo card.
And it was perfect.
After another earthquaking orgasm, I eagerly unbuttoned Chloe’s jumpsuit and slid my hand into her boy shorts.
“You don’t have to,” Chloe said.
“I want to,” I said, turned on by her slick heat, all that wetness because of me . “I love how you feel. Let me at least try. I feel like I’ve at least proven myself by now.”
“It has nothing to do with you,” she said quickly. “Look, yeah, I’m very good at what we just did. I’m aware. No one’s into me for the other part.”
“Chloe,” I said, and slipped my hand back into her jumpsuit, lightly, gently. “I’m very in to you for this part.”
She laughed and wrapped an arm around my neck, pulling my face close to hers as I touched her. “You know I didn’t mean that. Girls get bored, you know. Coaxing me toward orgasm for another half hour for good karma or whatever.”
“Do I seem bored?” I asked, switching up my rhythm and marveling at the surprised pleasure registering on cool, badass Chloe Lee’s face.
“OK, not at this second, no,” she said, covering her face with her hands.
“I could give a shit about karma,” I said. “It’s the hottest thing I can think of right now, touching you like this. Chloe, look at me .”
She dropped her hands, made eye contact again.
“I love how you look when I—” I stroked with more pressure, the way I liked touching myself. Chloe’s breath told me she liked it too. “Watching you get there was one of my favorite things about last night. I want to keep doing it. Even if I’m new and awkward and ready to take direction.”
Chloe grabbed my wrist, and I worried she would pull me away. Instead, she moved my hand for me, a little faster and rougher, until I kept the pace on my own.
“Nice work,” she said with a smirk, her eyes meeting mine. “You’re a fast learner.”
“Can I admit how many articles and how-to guides I read?” I asked, and she laughed. “I wanted to be ready.”
She smiled, all traces of the smirk gone. “For me?”
It had never been her, of course, when I’d studied up. It had only been the idea of someone, not a real person at all. But now the only person it had mattered for, after all of this, was nothing but real.
“I’m sorry if someone ever made you feel bad about this,” I murmured, as I continued touching her, as her breath grew more ragged and her gaze sharper. “I want to know what people thought was better to do with their time than exactly this.”
“Oh, fuck, ” she muttered, pressing her face into my shoulder and letting out a groan against my bare skin. I sucked gently on her neck, light pressure so it wouldn’t show later, then lowered my lips to suck softly at one of her nipples, then the other.
“Take your time,” I told her, realizing I felt confident now, holding Chloe’s pleasure in the—well, literally the palm of my hand. “This is the only place I want to be right now.”
“You make it—” Chloe cut herself off with a soft moan. “You make this part so easy, Clementine. You’re so fucking easy to believe in.”
This was it, I knew, exactly what I’d been looking for when I’d walked away from the life I could have had. Someone new who maybe needed someone like me, someone who didn’t see this as time and patience but an earth-shatteringly hot way to spend an afternoon. When, a few minutes later, Chloe came with a growl, I felt nearly undone, and it did not escape her notice.
“Let me get you there again,” she said, and I laughed and shook my head.
“You’ve done plenty already,” I said, though I didn’t fight it, didn’t fight her, didn’t fight the waves of pleasure that shook through me shortly thereafter. It was nearly another ten minutes later when we finally emerged from the storage closet—Chloe first, then me moments later as not to arouse suspicion.
I stopped by the restroom on my way back to the reception, and laughed at my reflection. Hair disheveled, dress and bra straps somehow twisted together over one shoulder, a smudge of dust on my bicep that was cartoonishly yes-I-just-got-fucked-in-a-broom-closet .
Bianca stepped out of one of the stalls and walked up to the sink next to mine as I dabbed at my arm.
“I ran into something,” I said quickly, and she laughed.
“Like someone’s vagina?” she asked, and I choked on the shock of it, and then we were both cracking up. “Get yourself cleaned up, girl, the professional photographers are doing an intense candids round now. I’m extremely sex-positive but it’d probably be nice if you didn’t look so JBF in Nina and Ari’s wedding album they show their future kids.”
Bianca helped me tame down my hair and fix my dress, and when we strolled back to our table I felt the picture of poise and dignity.
“There’s more photos,” Chloe said as I sat down next to her, in a tone that very much indicated we had not just spent our time down the hallway doing exactly what we’d done.
“Yeah, I heard. Bianca helped me get myself back together.”
She frowned and glanced in Bianca’s direction. “What did you say to her? Did you tell her what just happened between us?”
“Chloe, I looked like a cartoon of someone who’d just had sex in a closet. I didn’t really have to say anything.”
Chloe frowned.
“Is it so bad someone knows?” I asked. “It’s something couples do.”
Not that it had been a thing Will and I had ever done. The most adventurous location we’d ever managed in all of our time together had been the back seat of his car a few times, and he was always too nervous for it to be anything more than a quick way to get off when it was our only option.
“You know I don’t do PDA,” she snapped.
“I’m pretty sure you were the one who yanked me into a broom closet and fucked me up against a stack of boxes, so I don’t know why this is on me now?” I tried to say it quietly, and like a joke, but I felt asea again. I felt like I’d lost my ability to know anything.
Chloe leaned forward, clearly scanning the room for something. “Maybe you can go join your youth table for a while.”
I poked her arm, hoping it translated as why are you being like this?
“It’s not official wedding party photos,” CJ said, in a helpful tone. “I’m sure it’s fine if you’re sitting with us, Clementine. Though if you want to hang out with the hot youths again, we’d all understand.”
Chloe flashed me a look. “Well, Ari and Nina apparently gave a heads-up about the photographer while I’d stepped away, so I didn’t get a chance to ask any follow-up questions. So maybe it would make sense to just … you know. Err on the side of whatever.”
“Okay,” I said, but more like a question, like despite whatever had just gone sideways, she’d break into laughter and tell me she was kidding, kiss me on camera like the squishy people we weren’t really but maybe might be someday.
“Wedding party only,” she clarified instead. “Not plus-ones.”
CJ, Sofia, Bianca, and even my boss exchanged grimaces, and I didn’t wait for Chloe to say another thing I hated. I got up and left.