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“You know what, whatever.” She put her arm around Chloë. “Everyone else is out back, come on.”

Walking through the house, Vanessa was pleased when Megan kind of naturally fell into step beside her as they followed Abby and Chloë.

“I’m, like, shocked to see you,” Megan said. “What a coincidence!”

“Good coincidence or bad coincidence?” Vanessa asked, knowing which choice she herself would make.

“Hmm...I’m not sure,” Megan drawled. “That whole T2 is better than the original thing makes me suspicious of your sanity.”

Vanessa scoffed.

“My sanity? I’m thinking of giving you the number of a licensed therapist.”

Reaching the backyard, Vanessa was pleased to see that she knew most of the handful of women arrayed around the candlelit tables, many with wine glasses in their hands. The hosts, Angela and Desiree, she already knew from her personal trainer days and various social outings which had spawned from that, which in turn had led to her knowing several of the other ladies.

After she had been introduced to two women she didn’t know, Vanessa turned to Megan.

“I don’t get it...if this is your crew, why haven’t we met before yesterday?”

“Because she’s a Hermit Dork,” Abby supplied, causing the group to laugh.

“Yeah,” Melody, a forty-something blonde Vanessa knew from the lesbian bar scene agreed. “Megan is like one of those reclusive celebrities. She doesn’t make a lot of public appearances and when she does it’s front-page news.”

Vanessa thought it was impossibly adorable the way Megan rolled her eyes and blushed. Oddly (and somewhat surprisingly), Vanessa felt a surge of protectiveness towards Megan. She wanted to put her arm around her and use herself as a human shield against all this good-natured ribbing.

Seriously, what is happening to me?

Desiree tapped Vanessa on the arm and indicated Megan with a nod.

“You might want to get a selfie with her, V,” she said. “A selfie with Megan is worth about five-hundred likes on Instagram.”

“Oh my God! You guys are so stupid!” Megan screeched, laughing. “And since no one else seems to be offering...,” she turned to Vanessa, “...can I get you some wine?”

“That would be awesome,” Vanessa said.

“Chloë?”

“None for me, thanks; I’m on a one-week cleanse,” Chloë responded. She was crouched down and providing Angela and Desiree’s pug, Barney, belly rubs.

“God, that sounds horrible,” Milli, an African-American who was a regular at Vanessa’s gym, back when gyms were still open, said. “And what are you, fifteen-years-old? What could you possibly need to cleanse out of your system?”

“This time? Lauren.” Chloë said, standing up and ignoring Barney’s doleful eyes that were pleading for the belly rubs to continue. “Every time I break up with a girl I go on a cleanse.”

“And with Chloë’s track record this means she hasn’t eaten a decent meal in seven years,” Vanessa quipped.

Megan caught Vanessa’s eye.

“Wine’s in the kitchen, wanna come with me?”

Vanessa had to bite her lip to keep a smirk from forming at the—most likely unintended—double entendre. Of course, that didn’t stop her mind from going there.

Yes, I would like to come with you, Megan. Several times, if you can manage it.

And then, right there! Vanessa wasn’t sure if it was real or if she had just imagined it, but she could have sworn Megan’s right eyebrow arched just the tiniest bit. Suddenly Vanessa felt herself blushing, worried that somehow Megan had read her mind.

“Lead the way,” she managed to croak.

In the kitchen Megan asked “Red or white?”