Fourteen #2
‘Not sure,’ Ashley admitted. ‘But it takes her all over. She doesn’t even have a permanent residence anymore.’
‘She sounds serious.’
‘Yep. I think all those years with my dad’s artistic flightiness drove her to the corporate life.’ Ashley took a deep breath. ‘God, I’ve talked a lot about myself tonight.’
‘No more than I’ve wanted,’ Molly assured her.
‘That’s nice. But let’s do you for a bit.’ Ashley’s cheeks were suddenly touched with pink. ‘I mean, tell me about your childhood.’
Molly winced. ‘You sure?’
Ashley’s eyes widened. ‘I don’t know now. Have I just stepped into trauma territory? Not that I’m not willing. It’s more if you’re willing.’
Molly grinned. ‘What do I care? It wasn’t like I was beaten or starved or anything. As soon as I could fill a bowl with milk and cereal, I was fine.’
‘Your parents weren’t around?’
‘I couldn’t pick my dad out of a lineup. And my mum was just a person with better things to do than parent her child,’ Molly said casually.
But Ashley didn’t take it lightly. ‘That sounds hard.’
That seemed suspiciously like pity, so Molly tried to lighten things up. ‘It had its upside. When no one cares what you do, you can do whatever you want. It’s freeing.’
Ashley didn’t look convinced. Molly felt suddenly too aware of herself. Her hands. What should she do with them? What had she been doing with them before? They were just kind of in the air now. Molly cursed her own over-gesticulation.
She tried to place them beside herself, holding onto the edge of the mattress. Her grip was too tight.
Ashley’s knee knocked hers by accident and moved quickly away.
‘It’s late,’ Ashley said. It wasn’t a question.
‘I guess it is,’ Molly said.
What else could she say? Ashley had said the thing people say before they leave, and Molly couldn’t let that be a biggie. So she waited, nonchalantly, for Ashley’s excuse, maybe a request for her number, and the inevitable exit.
But Ashley didn’t move to stand. She didn’t slap her thighs and say, ‘Right.’ She was looking at her feet. They looked back up at her and did nothing.
A taxi went past outside. Loud for a second, then gone. And Ashley still wasn’t moving.
Molly looked at Ashley, her eyebrows raised. Ashley held her eye.
And Molly knew Ashley wasn’t leaving.
Now the question became which one of them would take this further?
Molly made the call. She would take the lead. She had to. She wanted Ashley. She couldn’t leave it up to chance. If she kept waiting, Ashley might still leave.
‘Come here,’ Molly said with a half-smile.
Ashley looked nervous, but she began to inch carefully closer. The bed dipped. Their knees touched fully this time, and neither of them fought it.
Molly lifted her hand, hesitating only briefly.
Be confident. That was important, the confidence.
That was why people liked Molly: because she moved easily and certainly through life.
She didn’t fret or think too hard. She said what she wanted to say.
She did what she wanted to do. She succeeded or failed on those terms alone. Ashley would need that from her, too.
Molly touched Ashley’s jaw, caressing the soft skin. Ashley went still, waiting. Molly leaned in, and Ashley met her halfway.
The kiss was tentative only in its opening seconds, as though both of them were checking that this was real. That neither had imagined the other, or this strange connection that had come out of nowhere on this crazy night.
Then Ashley pushed forward with a small moan, and something inside Molly gave way. It was as if she’d been holding herself together for years without ever realising it, and now all that effort simply dissolved. She fell into something deep, endless.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t have to be Molly, with everything that name carried. There was only Ashley. The warmth of her mouth. The gentle pressure of her lips. The scent of her vanilla shampoo as Molly pulled her closer.
Molly’s hand slid deep into her hair. Ashley made another sound, deeper this time—a low, breathless moan of pure pleasure that made every hair on Molly’s body stand on end.
Where the hell did this woman come from? Molly found herself asking. And how did I get here with her? In the space of a single evening, she’d gone from letting her most annoying housemate drag her to a local gig to dangerous levels of investment in a total stranger.
Molly had spent years convincing herself that nothing could get under her skin. She was the easy one. The uncomplicated one. The one who could make a joke out of anything before it became serious enough to hurt. What the hell was happening?
Ashley seemed to sense the existential crisis brewing. She drew back slightly and asked, ‘You okay?’
Molly opened her mouth. Nothing came out.
Ashley laughed softly. ‘The first time tonight you’ve had no joke at the ready.’
‘Gimme a second. I’ll have something.’
Ashley raised an eyebrow. Molly stared at her for a beat, then kissed her again instead.
Ashley made a triumphant noise. ‘You’re finally speechless,’ she murmured against her lips.
‘Don’t get used to it,’ Molly said, without stopping the kiss.
Ashley broke into helpless laughter against her mouth, the last lingering barrier between them melting away entirely until they were searching for each other, finding each other.
At some point, Molly paused, resting her lips against Ashley’s neck. Quietly, without even realising she was going to say it, she whispered, ‘Let’s try not to mess each other up.’
She was shocked at her own vulnerability. But Ashley nodded once, breathing, ‘Yes.’ And then it was okay. Molly was okay. No more words were needed.
The mattress gave a long, slow creak as Ashley shifted her weight, pulling Molly down, climbing astride her. The precariousness of the cheap bed vanished, reduced to nothing more than a steady, rhythmic complaint beneath the sudden, overwhelming heat of their bodies.
The cold air of the room hit Molly’s bare skin as Ashley pulled her shirt over her head, but it was immediately replaced by the warmth of Ashley’s hands. Her touch was magic: soft, yet decisive. Molly suddenly envied Ashley’s guitar for all the hours it spent in those hands.
Reaching up, Molly slid her hands under Ashley’s top, her palms finding the smooth, warm skin of her back as she helped strip it off.
The rest of the garments went quickly after that.
Free of their clothes, Ashley leaned down, her lips finding the hollow of Molly’s throat.
A sharp, involuntary gasp escaped Molly’s lips, her fingers instantly tangling in Ashley’s hair, pulling her tighter until there was no space left between them at all.
Then Ashley parted Molly’s legs with her knee, and Molly looked up.
Ashley was looking down at her, her breathing shallow, her eyes dark and completely focused.
For a woman who spent her life hiding behind jokes and quick comebacks, being looked at with that much raw, undivided honesty was terrifying. And entirely intoxicating.
Ashley slid her hand down between their bodies, her fingers finding Molly, damp and ready. Molly arched into the touch with a low, desperate moan, her hips moving instinctively against Ashley’s hand. The friction was agonisingly perfect.
Ashley’s touch grew more urgent, her fingers moving inside her with a steady, driving rhythm that had Molly gripping the frayed edges of the mattress.
The pace quickened into a frantic, beautifully messy collision of skin and breath.
When the wave finally hit, it started deep in Molly’s chest and shattered outward.
She clung to Ashley, her fingers digging into the muscles of her back as she rode out the intensity, her body trembling beneath the weight of her own release.
Ashley let out a ragged breath against Molly’s neck, her own movements fracturing into a tight, shuddering climax a moment later as she pressed herself hard against Molly.
They collapsed into each other, letting time slip away.
Slowly, the world reassembled itself. The rain was still tapping against the window, and the Cate Blanchett poster was still peeling at the corner.
Ashley rolled onto her side, pulling the tangled duvet over both of them, her chest rising and falling in sync with Molly’s.
Molly looked up at the ceiling, a slow smile spreading across her face. She reached out beneath the covers, finding Ashley’s fingers and lacing them together.
She didn’t speak. There was nothing to say. Everything was perfect.