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Megan gave her a peck on the cheek. “I’ll get you a travel mug. Why don’t you raid my fridge? I have, like, twelve different flavors of Chobani in there as well as some diced fruit. Take what you want. I’ll get you a bag for it.”

“Are you sure?”

Megan tsked.

“I’m not sending you off to buy breakfast who knows where. By the way, I feel a little self-conscious giving you some of my coffee,” Megan said, pouring from the coffeemaker’s carafe into a travel mug. “I mean, you’re a coffee expert but all I have are some ground beans from Whole Foods that I bought because they smelled good and were two bucks cheaper than some other beans that I also thought smelled good. I didn’t even really measure them when I put them in the machine this morning. By the way, how do you take it?”

“If you have Splenda, two, please; if not, sugar will be fine. And when I’m in a rush, I’ll even drink coffee from a gas station.” Vanessa took two Chobanis and a small container of diced mixed fruit from the refrigerator.

Megan provided a small canvas tote for Vanessa to carry the food in, and then handed over the coffee.

“Two Splendas.”

Vanessa arched an eyebrow.

“I should give you a job,” she said with a smile. Then, before she could stop herself, added, “Hey, why don’t you come by the shop today?”

Megan looked at her for a moment.

“You sure? Doesn’t it violate rule number two?”

Vanessa smiled.

“As long as we don’t share a meal, it’s allowed. You could draw,” Vanessa suggested.

Plus, I can just look at you!

“Deal,” Megan said. “Now, go before I drag you upstairs and tie you to the bed.”

Vanessa bit her bottom lip.

“Save that thought for another time,” she said. “Please.”

***

Pulling into the parking lot behind La Vida Mocha, Vanessa spotted Chloë’s blue PT Cruiser already parked.

Inside, Chloë—bless her—had the coffeeshop well on the way to being open-ready.

“You’re an angel!” Vanessa greeted her.

“Pastries just got dropped off,” Chloë returned. “I was surprised I beat you here today. What kept you?”

Vanessa hesitated. After the conversation she and Chloë had had a few days ago, when Chloë admitted to having wanted Megan for herself at the engagement party, the last thing Vanessa wanted to do was reveal that the reason she was a little late today was because she had spent last night fucking that very same Megan and getting fucked senseless by her in return. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell Chloë the story of the clock and the five-minute penalties from her and Megan’s first time together, a story which ends with Vanessa having been given the most intense, soul-shattering orgasm of her life, by a woman closer to Chloë’s age than her own.

“Didn’t you see that chick Megan last night?” Chloë prodded.

“Um…yeah, I did. I went over to her place.” A thought suddenly popped into Vanessa’s head. “Um…she said she might come by here later today, by the way.”

And please don’t be all awkward about it.

Chloë looked up from arranging blueberry muffins on a plate in the pastry display counter.

“Cool,” she said. “I’m assuming she’s VIP, right; just so I know in case you’re busy?”

Vanessa smiled.

“No, actually. She wants to keeps paying for her coffees.”