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“The coffee was great, by the way,” Becca said after a moment, interrupting Krissy’s reverie.

Krissy looked at her.

“I honestly don’t understand why you suck at it,” she said.

Becca shrugged. She was now rubbing Krissy’s left foot.

“What can I tell you?” she replied. “Baking I’m good at; coffee, not so much.”

“The two kind of go hand-in-hand,” Krissy said.

“Well, we can have some more coffee that you make with the chocolate cream pie I made the other night.”

Krissy blinked.

“Why am I just hearing about this chocolate cream pie now?” she said accusingly.

“Because it’s going to be ungodly sweet and we should eat some real food first,” Becca said. “Speaking of…I don’t feel like cooking. How about we order a pizza?”

Krissy cocked an eyebrow.

“Here’s what happens if we order a pizza,” Krissy began. “The pizza guy arrives; the press follows him up to your front door; you open the front door; a thousand photos are taken and suddenly the headlines read ‘Lesbian Wonder Woman Inhales Entire Pizza By Herself.’”

“Fuck!” Becca exclaimed. “So what you’re telling me is, I’m a prisoner in my own home?”

“It gets worse,” Krissy went on. “The pizza guy then tells the world what a lousy tipper you are.”

“I am not a lousy tipper!”

“But the pizza guy says you’re a lousy tipper because the pizza guy likes being on TV.”

“For fuck’s sake!”

For a few minutes, Becca concentrated on the foot rub she was giving Krissy.

“Can I stay at your place tonight?” Becca finally asked.

“Ooh, sleepover! Yay! Of course!”

Krissy then started strategizing how she was going to change the sheets on her bed without Becca noticing. Being one herself, Krissy knew women have incredible senses of smell, particularly when detecting the recent presence of other women. No doubt her sheets still bore the scents of Anna and Maya—not to mention a few stains from what had leaked out of all three of them.

“You don’t have plans?” Becca asked.

“You mean, do I have a date?” Krissy prodded.

“Is that what you call them?”

Krissy glared at her.

“Another wisecrack like that and I’ll tell the press what a lousy tipper you are,” she threatened.

“Well, do you?” Becca asked. And why did Becca seem annoyed?

“No, I do not,” Krissy answered and then decided to deflect Becca away from this topic. “This foot rub feels really good.”

Becca smiled.

“I’ll keep it up if you promise me a back rub later.”