Chapter Two
“Well,” Julia paused, voices fading into the background, wishing she had more time. “I should go home and get ready for work in the morning.” But I don’t want to.
“It is morning.”
Julia’s dusty eyes settled on hers and suddenly they were both swept up–into what she wasn’t sure–their gaze lingering as the sound of the clock ticked so subtly in their ears. Then the moment was gone completely as Greg hurried past them down the bar.
Julia didn’t get up yet. Instead, she swallowed the rest of her freshly refilled drink, the cold liquor burning as it trickled down. For once, she was okay with the fact she would be dog-gone tired in the morning. Sitting there and chatting about nearly nothing with Erin was better than sleepless tossing throughout the night.
She took a moment to stomp down a thought in the back of her head that it would be nice to do whatever this was again. She tried to map the twinkle in Erin’s eyes to remember later, to remind herself that it existed somewhere. If she found her laugh, her smile, again in Erin’s presence, then it was a map she’d want to laminate and hang from every ceiling to memorize.
Erin slipped down from her stool and placed a hand on Julia’s lower back as she spoke. “I’m going to use the restroom before heading out.”
Her touch was soft even through the material of Julia’s shirt. Her fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary. Or did they? Julia felt like she was losing her mind, overthinking or maybe even under-thinking each touch. Someone she was sure could be half her age and twice as gorgeous, twice as captivating, couldn’t possibly be content in her company. But yet… yet? There was something in that twinkle of her eyes, the brush of her fingertips.
“That’s actually a good idea!” Julia stood, ignoring the fleeting panic she felt a moment ago. “I have a bit of a drive home.”
As she stood, the weight of her body sunk to her feet. Sitting down, she felt barely buzzed. While standing? All she could focus on was the haze settling over her forehead.
No, it wasn’t just a buzz; she was teetering on the brink of drunkenness, and she did not get drunk on Thursday nights. She did not get drunk in general. That would mean releasing control, and Julia did not like to let go of that.
Yet there she was, sitting next to a beautiful woman she never met before and not realizing how fast she was drinking to break the awkwardness that she knew was herself. She tried to fade into the noise of the bar–the way a tack disappears into patterned wallpaper–but it didn’t work.
As both of her feet touched the ground, her left foot prickled with tiny pins that traveled up her sleeping leg. Her knee buckled and the rest of her body followed, tumbling downward in a liquid avalanche. She was about to collapse to the floor in a tequila fueled mess when Erin reached out with one arm, barely catching her around the waist as she braced the stool.
“I didn’t realize how long I was sitting there!” Julia laughed, because it was the only thing she could think of to do.
Erin smelled so sugary and soft with warmth. Julia leaned just an inch closer than she had to, her face mere inches from Erin’s, soaking up every note of that cashmere that tickled her nose hairs. Her stray blonde hair covered her face as she lifted her head and caught Erin’s eyes.
Erin’s right arm still wrapped around her, the other on the front of her hip and oh, Julia knew she was in trouble when she wished those strong fingers could have stayed longer.
“You don’t seem like the type of person to get drunk on a weekday,” Erin remarked with a giggle, pinkness blushing her cheeks.
Despite being slightly shorter, their eyes met at the same level as Julia leaned into her embrace. Their eyes were still locked on each other as if they weren’t standing in the middle of a crowded room. If she wanted to make an even bigger fool of herself, Julia could sink into those intrusive thoughts and kiss the dreamy stranger.
No, no, no. Being lonely does not equate to kissing random women who are just being nice.
“My foot must have fallen asleep,” Julia whispered instead, her eyes flickering between those green pools and her plump lips.
“I can help you to the bathroom,” Erin offered, her smile diverting Julia’s gaze. “I’m such a klutz that I could fall up a flight of stairs.”
How could she make something so embarrassing so nonchalant? Why did her smile melt Julia’s stress away like a warm knife over butter?
She pulled herself up on her own, releasing Erin regretfully. “It’s feeling better,” Julia sighed, rubbing her face in an attempt to push the fog away. “I feel like this week can’t get any worse.” Her voice seemed more of a whine than anything else, and suddenly she found herself wanting to crawl into a deep dark hole, far away from any other conversation for the foreseeable future.
“That means it can only get better,” Erin’s voice echoed faintly as Julia looked up to see her already halfway towards the bathroom.
She glanced around the room and noticed that the bar was nearly empty, dutiful patrons venturing out into the snow-covered street. Greg floated up and down the countertop, his partially unbuttoned shirt flowing with each movement wiping spills, humming a tune that sounded like Adele.
A young couple leaned in towards each other, all googly and doe eyed, an obvious new blooming relationship. Then, there were the usual older men, heads facing down towards their whiskeys, waiting for the moment they’d be kicked out and forced to deal with their complacent lives again. Julia strolled by all of them, finding it increasingly hard to walk a straight line. She couldn’t recall the last time she allowed herself to let go so much, the last time she enjoyed the company of someone else.
There was something pleasant in the fog. She was fully aware everything was exactly the same; nothing magically got better, but her shoulders felt a little lighter. She could leave some of what she was carrying on that sticky floor and never look back. For a moment, she found a glimmer of hope that somewhere within her, her old self survived the breaking.
She made her way to the wooden split door that said ladies haphazardly in a drunk man’s handwriting. Pushing against the grain, the door swung open. And there, just five feet in front of her, stood Erin.
Her back was pressed against the counter, hands gripping the edge. Coffee-colored hair twirled flawlessly over her shoulders, her lips curved upwards into a smile. She looked like she was waiting for something to happen–something to fall out of the crisp air and land in her curvy lap.
She looked so young; young enough to have been carded for that wine, Julia was sure. But it wasn’t a na?ve kind of young. It was the kind of young that classic Jane Austen novels make you dream about, wishing you could go back and do it all again, wishing tomorrow would never come.
She had this mischievous look in her eyes as the door swung closed behind Julia. It was something about that stare that left her standing there in the doorway, the awkward tension swirling between them, pulling them. Did Erin feel it too? Was there really something crackling in the air between them or was she just desperate to be looked at like she was worth something, anything?
That woman, that gorgeous woman standing in front of her with her white tank slightly untucked as she sucked in a breath, had to have another reason to look at her like that. Gosh. How long had it been since someone looked at her like that? It was addicting, alluring, even more intoxicating than that tequila she just finished.
Julia looked up long enough to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror behind Erin. It snapped her back to reality like a fastball to the face. Her shirt was still askew, revealing more cleavage than she ever wanted to see on herself. Hastily tucking her shirt back in, stray strands of hair fell from her bun. She hurriedly tried to tuck them back in, avoiding Erin’s eyes at all costs. She looked like a mess, and not a hot one.
Once again, she was reminded of the toll life had taken: boobs that sat just a little bit lower than they used to, shades of brown bone-tiredness under her puffy eyes, skin that somehow grew just a little bit more flexible each day.
She pulled her hair away from her face, tucking one more strand back into her bun as she walked to the available sink to wash her hands. She gave Erin a friendly smile. I’ve lost my damn mind. Just as Julia reached for the handle to the faucet, Erin turned to her. With a firm, unwavering grace, she pushed Julia against the vanity.
It happened so fast: the water rushing into the sink behind her, the heaving of her chest, Erin’s lips so close to her face. Erin pressed both hands around her hips, holding her there for a moment as she stared into hazel eyes, their lips just a breath apart.
Julia gasped as her stomach flipped in the air and landed at what felt like was the bottom of her toes. Erin’s breath smelled like hints of pears and honeysuckle, even more enticing than the vanilla that hugged around her. Her eyes were even brighter shades of green that close up–swirling yellow fragments dancing within the verdant landscape. It was a color all on its own, no competition to even the most beautiful forest lined sunsets.
Julia froze for a moment, stuck in the thought of tracing Erin’s freckles like constellations to a place where she could get lost forever. No, this isn’t right. She had just one sip too many and was imagining it all. She should go back to her already messy life before anything was done that couldn’t be undone.
And that was when it happened.
Erin moved her left hand from her hip just briefly and Julia swayed as if that hand was the only thing holding her up, as if that was all that tethered her to this Earth. Her fingers slid almost unnoticeably behind Julia’s ear as she pulled her into a kiss, soft but fast, as if she was making sure there was no time to let her mind talk her out of it.
Their lips collided and Julia’s breath hitched in slow motion, the push and pull of soft skin caressing every nerve in her body. Erin’s hands trailed down her arm and rested on the dip of her waist, pulling her closer and closer with every steaming breath.
The world around them disappeared. It was too easy to release every inhibition as she melted deeper into Erin’s taste, as her hands desperately held Julia’s body. She hadn’t felt that alive, that wanted, that desired in so long.
How long did it last? How long did they share a breath as their hands and legs tangled around each other? Seconds? Minutes? All Julia knew was that at some point her lips ended and Erin’s began–two liquid forms crashing into each other and becoming one–and she used that information to bridge a world of pure wonder.
When Erin pulled away, Julia tried to hide the fact that she was out of breath. Not because they kissed for long, but because she hasn’t been kissed like that in a very long time. When was the last time someone took her breath away? When was the last time someone touched her so carefully like that? She hadn’t had anyone look at her the way Erin’s eyes met hers, bright and wanting. She felt like the most important person in the room, even when they were surrounded by so many others.
Julia reached down and held the edge of the counter, steadying herself before she let her thoughts ruin the moment. Erin began to take a step back, as if she had just realized she waited for a stranger in the bathroom, hoping she’d follow her. As if she’d never done anything like that before, but could that boldness come naturally? Could the way her tongue slid into Julia’s mouth be the first time for her?
“I’m so sorry,” Erin staggered, her breath surprisingly in match with the beat of Julia’s heart. “I’ve wanted to do that since that moment I saw you.”
Julia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was almost too much to take in. Lost in thought once again, she was speechless. Then, she watched the regret settle onto Erin’s face.
Erin pulled her hands away from Julia as if they were sunburnt from being just a thin layer of cloth away from flesh, begging for the aloe she held at her own sides. Julia wished Erin’s hands actually touched bare skin. She wished she could feel the warmth of her fingertips trace every curve. She felt that warm wanting bloom deep within her.
For the first time in years, Julia let go of reason. She reached out her hand and grabbed Erin’s wrist as she turned towards the door to leave. Their eyes met as Julia slid her hand from her wrist, up her goosebump lined arms, down her side, and rested it just below her waist. The thought of her warm skin beneath that thin layer of satin tickled at the back of Julia’s mind. She wanted so badly to touch it, to taste her salty skin.
“Me too,” she whispered, and in one swift motion, she pulled Erin back to her. Their hips pinned together as she slid her hands into those brown curls.
They were back to sharing space, once again lost within the vista of their lips. Julia hadn’t kissed someone in so long, hadn’t wrapped her hands around the soft part of their neck as her tongue explored their mouth. Oh, but it felt good, and she wondered why it took her this long to realize how ignited her body could still feel.
Everything grew deeper. Julia pushed Erin’s body against the counter, never wanting her hands to stop exploring the terrain of her body. Erin arched her body firmer, as if she was afraid Julia would disappear if the contact faltered just once.
She let her fingers rest where Julia’s pants met her blouse, lightly twirling her fingers in her shirt before lifting it and touching bare skin. Her warm hand slid so effortlessly to her back, teasingly trailing lower and lower; it seemed like their bodies were puzzle pieces, finally finding the perfect fit. Julia let out a breath of air. The way that single touch set a fire ablaze within her was an unfamiliar flutter of bee wings taking flight within her stomach.
Suddenly, a knock at the door reverberated in their ears and they both froze. Julia’s hands remained curled in Erin’s hair, holding her close. Erin’s left hand gripped Julia’s neck as her right wrapped around the curve of her behind.
“Jules,” Greg called from behind the door. “Everything okay? We’re closing in five.”
“I’ll be right out!” she called, trying to hide the fact that now she was really out of breath, and for more reasons than one.
As the realization of their actions crashed into her, Julia pulled away from Erin. Buzz be damned. She was on the last part of a free fall roller coaster–that feeling of your stomach floating within your chest as you plummet–except she thought she was on the carousel.
Erin steadied herself against the counter, bracing her wobbly legs. Julia was relieved that this, whatever it was, didn’t just affect her. But quickly it became too much. She couldn’t be here. Not making out with a random woman in a bathroom. Not now, of all times.
Yet, as she looked back at Erin apologetically, she felt herself wanting to sink deeper into those eyes. She wanted back that reckless feeling that would allow her to crash into Erin again, only blazing hands mapping the way. She wanted to get lost in something other than herself.
Closing her eyes, Julia took a deep breath, hoping to pull herself together enough to walk out without flushed cheeks and lingering regret. When she worked up enough courage to stand without leaning, all she could think of was how Erin’s touch sent warm shivers down her back, how her stomach flipped when their bodies touched, how she wanted more.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Erin started, but Julia cut her off. She should’ve been more level-headed.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you back.”
They could brush this off like adults, right? They could admit their inhibited judgment; one too many drinks warming their senses and causing all the mayhem.
“Woo,” Erin breathed out a huge sigh. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
Julia wondered what she meant by that statement. Had she never kissed a woman in a bathroom? Had she never kissed an older woman in a bathroom? Or had she never kissed a woman before? She hoped it wasn’t the latter. She hoped so deeply.
“Well, that would make two of us.” Julia turned to the sink, letting the cool water flow. She’d have to bathe in the iciness of the Arctic to cool down, sink herself to the bottom of the ocean’s depth to lower her temperature.
“This would definitely be my first bathroom make-out session.”
They both laughed. Julia leaned on the counter, tucking her shirt back in and smoothing down static blonde strands on top of her head. They locked eyes in the mirror, lost once again in a world of possibilities.
“I’m going to go.” Julia blurted the words out so fast, Erin’s eyebrows shot up towards the ceiling.
Julia began to move from the sink to the door, carefully skirting around Erin’s body. Her head was so much heavier after that kiss, like it released the alcohol that was sitting in the back of her stomach. Erin caught her arm as she began to pass her, those cozy fingertips exploding something deep within her stomach again.
“What if I don’t want you to go?” she asked, her voice so soft and low. It should be illegal for a voice to sound that sexy.
Julia swore she could still feel her steamy breath on her neck, the ghost of her hands tracing along her bare skin even as she pulled away. When they met eyes, Julia saw them pleading. For the first time she had no idea what she was going to do.
Would it really be that bad, doing something fun and spontaneous for once? Would it really hurt to put my wants ahead of everything else? Don’t I deserve at least that, at least once?
It was something in the way Erin’s eyes wrapped around her like a blanket in December, a way that made her truly feel seen, sending her stomach deliciously lurching like a meteor escaping orbit. Julia pulled her into another kiss because damn, it felt good for someone to look at her like she was worth looking at. That would be it, she told herself. One last kiss to end whatever this was and could not be. One last taste of sweet spring to wrap in a satin bow and hide in the back of her mind.
Everything grew deeper, harder, faster, as if they only had this one moment. It was so hard not to allow herself to be pulled into the tornado of senses that swirled within her. When she tried to pull away, Erin arched her back, forcing Julia to catch her breath as butterflies twirled within her stomach–a snowstorm about to break through. If her lips touched the softness of Erin’s again, she wasn’t sure she could stop.
“We shouldn’t,” Julia whispered against Erin’s neck, their bodies held upright by nothing more than the embrace of their vagabond hands.
“We couldn’t.” Erin breathlessly moaned as a sweet smile curled into the nape of Julia’s neck. Her soft lips caressed the lobe of her ear and Julia’s knees went weak. Erin’s voice was a tease, a promise she had already decided to ignore, and it made her want her even more.
“We can’t.” Julia held her hands still, one tangled in the bronze sheen of Erin’s hair and the other cupped around her body.
When their eyes met, they both stopped. Julia couldn’t tell Erin that her skin lit up like lightning when she touched her, that her smile made her stomach flip in ways it hadn’t in so long, that her hips pressed against her thigh made everything inside her turn to jelly.
“I really have to go.” Julia had one hand on the doorknob. She didn’t realize at what point she released Erin’s fragrant skin and began backing towards it.
“Come home with me,” Erin begged.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Julia’s voice was a broken plea, “I can’t.”
“Is there someone else?” Erin blurted, confusion etched across her face in the most beautiful writing Julia’s ever seen.
Erin leaned on the counter, desperately searching for an explanation beyond the notion that Julia simply didn’t want her. How could she not want her? Whatever they were doing, it wasn’t something Julia did, but she wanted to do it with her.
“No.” Julia didn’t even hesitate.
When did she stop hesitating at the thought of Marin? When did that knowledge fade to utter unconsciousness? That was when it became real–a physical thing she could hold in her hand–a reality she couldn’t ignore. The thought made her sick. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t do it. Maybe it had nothing to do with her at all.
As Marin flooded her thoughts, she couldn’t even look at Erin. She could have let go of control for one night and allowed herself a moment of happiness. She could have taken this flirty, maybe thirty-something home and gotten lost in the swirls of citrine in her green eyes. But what would she have done then? Brought her to the house filled with photos of Marin in her gleaming white wedding dress, patterning the walls like vintage wallpaper? In the bed they shared for over 15 years?
“There isn’t anyone else,” Julia paused, fighting the urge to get lost in how tender Erin’s voice was just moments ago, “but I still can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
She fled before even finishing her apology, too afraid if she met Erin’s eyes once more, she’d change her mind. She wanted to look back, to see if she was still looking at her, to try to figure out if she felt the electricity too. She didn’t because she knew if she did she would melt into any possibility of feeling that alive again.