Page 19 of February (New Orleans #2)

“Y ou can’t just say that and then drop me off at home,” Bridgette said the instant Monica opened the door. “Also, hi. Aaron’s not in there, is he?” She looked around Monica to see if her son was in the room and had just heard Bridgette’s unplanned outburst.

“Hi, Bridgette,” Monica said with a smile. “No, he’s in his room. And what exactly did I say?”

“That it was a perfect first kiss.”

“Oh,” Monica let out, with her hand still on the door as if she were deciding on whether or not to open it farther and let Bridgette in or close it with her still on the outside.

“Yeah, that’s a big deal, Mon. You can’t just say that it was a perfect first kiss and expect me not to want a second one or not to talk about it at all.”

“I didn’t expect that. I told you we could talk about it later, when Aaron wasn’t around.”

“He’s not around right now, is he?”

“No, but–”

“I can’t sleep, Monica. I didn’t sleep at all last night. I hardly even remember brunch with my friends this morning because I was thinking about that damn kiss. They had to keep asking what was wrong with me. I got that text from Aaron saying you wanted me to go to dinner, and I believed it came from you. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I was being optimistic for the first time in a long time, and I let myself believe that you wanted me there.”

“I did want you there,” Monica replied. “It’s not that I didn’t . I just thought he’d want dinner to be just the two of us, or I would have invited you myself.”

Bridgette turned her head when she heard the elevator ding, indicating that someone was about to arrive on the floor.

“Can I come in, please?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Monica said, moving out of the way as if she hadn’t even realized Bridgette was still standing in the hall. When Bridgette walked inside, Monica closed the door behind her, walked farther into the room herself, and asked, “You didn’t sleep well?”

“No. Did you ?”

“Not really, no,” Monica admitted with a shy smile.

“So, can we talk about it? Maybe I’ll be able to sleep tonight if we at least do that.”

Without waiting for an answer, Bridgette walked over to the window and took in the view. It was pitch-black outside, but the lights along the water and the businesses that were still open illuminated the river below. She wasn’t sure why she had walked over here, why she hadn’t stood still and insisted on a conversation, but she guessed it had something to do with the fact that she needed a moment. She’d stormed in here riding the energy high and bravado from the pep talk she’d given herself after dinner, but now that she was in the room with Monica, that energy and bravado were both gone, and she didn’t know what to do next.

“Bridge, I still don’t think we should…”

“I get it,” she said softly. “You’re leaving.”

“There’s more to it than that. I mean, you’re technically closer in age to my son than you are to me, and we’re totally different people. I–”

Bridgette turned around and replied, “The age thing? Really? That ’s what you’re giving me?”

“It’s true.” Monica shrugged.

“But I don’t care.”

Monica let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Maybe not, but I stand by what I said. We had an amazingly perfect kiss that probably shouldn’t have happened, but it did, and I don’t regret it at all. I just think we should leave it at that, Bridge. If we do, we’ll always have it. We can keep it stored away in our hearts for the times when we’re lonely. We can think about it and how good it felt, and it’ll get us through another night.”

“Or, we could just kiss again, and more, and not be lonely at all,” Bridgette suggested. “It’s like you’re choosing to be lonely over what could happen here.”

“I’m not choosing it. I’m only suggesting that–”

Bridgette moved into her, leaving only a small gap between them, and lifted Monica’s chin with a soft hand.

“Do you like me?”

“Yes. You know I do,” Monica admitted.

Bridgette ran her thumb over Monica’s bottom lip and asked, “Then, why can’t we see what happens? I know the obstacles. I get that you’re leaving soon and that I’m not. I know you’re older than me, and I couldn’t care less about that. Yes, we come from totally different worlds, and I have never even been to yours, but you’re in mine now, and it seems like you like it.”

“I do,” Monica confirmed.

“Do you want me to kiss you right now? Pretend you aren’t leaving.”

Monica nodded and said, “But I am leaving.”

“Not tomorrow, though,” she replied as she leaned in and pressed her lips to Monica’s.

It took a second, but when Monica kissed her back, Bridgette thought if that first kiss was perfect, this was somewhere beyond that, if that were even possible. This time, they both knew the taste of the other; they understood how their lips felt pressed to lips and how to move them to elicit that moan from the other person. Bridgette moved her hand into Monica’s hair, which was down, and her other hand went to her waist, pulling Monica against her again. She’d loved how good Monica had felt pressed to her the previous night during their first kiss. Monica’s own arms were around Bridgette’s neck now, pulling Bridgette in, too, and they stood there for several minutes, slowly enjoying how good this felt, before Monica was the one to take a step backward toward the bed.

Bridgette’s heart was racing as she stepped with her. She moved her lips to Monica’s neck. If they were moving this to the bed, she was going to start on Monica’s neck, indicating that, yes, she did want this.

When the back of Monica’s legs hit the bed, she fell back slightly, disconnecting their lips, and for a moment, she just sat there, staring up at Bridgette, who looked down at beautiful blue eyes and somewhat swollen lips.

“Not tonight, okay?” Monica requested, placing a hand over Bridgette’s sweater on her stomach.

“What’s not tonight?’

“Sex,” Monica said.

“Oh,” Bridgette replied.

Monica chuckled and said, “Your face… You look so disappointed.”

“You did the walking backward thing.” She pointed to the bed. “That indicates something, Monica.”

“It indicates that I was having trouble standing while you were kissing me like that.” She placed both hands under Bridgette’s shirt over her abdomen. “Can we just talk?”

“No more kissing?”

“I didn’t say that. I really like kissing you.”

“I really like kissing you ,” Bridgette shared back.

“Do you want to stay?”

“Stay the night?”

“Yes,” Monica said. “I have to take Aaron to the airport tomorrow morning.”

“So, I’d have to make the walk of shame before that?” she asked.

Monica smiled up at her and said, “Something like that.”

“But I can stay? We can talk and sleep?”

“Yes,” Monica confirmed. “I have clothes you can sleep in, and this is a hotel, so you can get whatever else you need brought up.”

Bridgette’s hands went into Monica’s hair and rubbed the back of her head. Monica’s eyes closed, and her head went forward, resting against Bridgette’s stomach.

“Can you lie down for me?” Bridgette requested.

When Monica complied without words and lay against the pillow, Bridgette looked down at her with a smile and moved until she was straddling Monica’s hips.

“I know we’re stopping, but can I just…” She reached under Monica’s shirt and rested her hands against her soft, warm skin. “I need to be close to you. I felt it all night. I hated that you were on the other side of the table at the restaurant. Then, you dropped me off, and I missed you being near me. I feel like I need to touch you.”

“Come down here,” Monica said and tugged on Bridgette’s sweater until Bridgette was hovering over her.

“Demanding,” she teased.

“Just kiss me,” Monica told her.

Bridgette was the one to comply silently this time. She lowered herself farther and pressed her lips against Monica’s, reveling in it. When Monica let out a little adorable moan in response, Bridgette moved her lips to her neck and slowly kissed her there, not asking for anything but needing to touch as much skin as she could tonight if they weren’t going to go much further than this. Monica’s hands went under her shirt and onto Bridgette’s back. She, apparently, wanted the same thing. Then, Monica’s legs made a move to part, and Bridgette shifted from straddling her to settling between her thighs instead.

“If you don’t want sex tonight, you’re definitely giving me the wrong signals,” she noted, moving her lips back to Monica’s.

Monica smiled into the kiss and replied, “Can’t control yourself?”

“I’m about five seconds away from rolling down into you, so no,” she replied.

“Rolling sounds good,” Monica told her in a tone that was a touch lower than it had been just a second before.

“You’re killing me,” Bridgette said as she pressed her forehead to Monica’s.

“You don’t just want sex, Bridge.” Monica cupped her cheek. “You want it all, don’t you? I’ve read your cards. I’ve seen the sketches. You want love. You want everything with someone.”

Bridgette nodded slowly and said, “My whole life.”

“I like that about you,” Monica replied. “You’re a bit of a mystery in that way.”

“Mystery?”

“Dry, sarcastic, seemingly an asshole, but you wear your heart on your sleeve and just want someone to come home to.”

“Seemingly an asshole?” Bridgette lifted an eyebrow.

“I said seemingly . And you’ve got to admit that you were an asshole to me when I first got here.”

“Maybe I just thought you were hot and was nervous around you, so that’s how it came out.”

“You thought I was hot?”

“I think you’re hot, yes,” Bridgette replied, putting an emphasis on the present tense. “And I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“The asshole thing.”

“I think you’ve more than made up for it.”

“I plan to, at least,” she said before she reconnected their lips. Then, she rolled her hips down, causing Monica to gasp, unprepared for the motion, and she added. “But we can wait. I’m good with this for now.”

“How long, though?” Monica asked as she pulled out of the kiss and ran a hand through Bridgette’s hair.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to rush into this with us because I’m going back to New York, but I don’t want to not have this with you, either.”

“So, you’re finally admitting that there’s a this now?” she teased.

“It’s hard for me, Bridgette,” Monica told her.

Bridgette recognized that the make-out portion of the night was on pause now, so she rolled onto her side and faced Monica instead, letting her know it was okay for her to continue down this path.

“When I got married, I thought Lily was it. I realize now that I was very wrong, but when you marry someone, you expect them to be the love of your life and the only person you’ll be with. We were together for years, but the longer we went on, the more unhappy I got. Still, I kept telling myself it was fine; all relationships go through these cycles. You’re happy for a while, you struggle a little and maybe have some bad times, and you rebound. I kept waiting for that rebound. I kept giving it everything I had because I thought that we’d get back to where we’d been. Then, we didn’t. When the sex stopped altogether, I began to suspect, and I found out I was right. I actually had these conversations with myself about staying with her anyway. I never thought I’d be that person, and it was mainly because of Aaron. I worried that if I left her, I’d lose him, too, and I couldn’t do that. When I finally decided, though, that was it for me.” Monica paused, and Bridgette placed her hand on Monica’s stomach under her shirt to encourage her to continue. “I bought my place, and I moved out. I threw myself into work, and I thought I’d find someone else one day. Eventually, though, I stopped believing that because unless they worked at my office, there was no chance I’d meet anyone else because I was always working.”

“Not a lot of lesbians in your office?”

Monica chuckled and said, “I have no idea. There probably are, but I’m not going to date anyone there. I’m going to be the CEO one day.” Monica looked over at her. “I’ve resigned myself to this loneliness, Bridgette.”

“But why? You don’t have to.”

“Because it’s just easier,” she said, taking Bridgette’s hand on her stomach and entwining their fingers. “I thought I had my chance, but I picked the wrong woman. At least I got Aaron out of it.”

“Mon, you’re only forty years old; you’re not dead. You can still meet someone.” Bridgette removed her hand from Monica’s and pointed it at herself. “Hello. I’m Bridgette. We just made out.”

Monica laughed and rolled into Bridgette, who wrapped her arm around her and pulled her in.

“I like you,” Monica muttered against Bridgette’s neck.

“I like you, too,” Bridgette replied, laughing a little as she ran a hand under Monica’s shirt and moved it over the smooth skin of her back.

“Will you change into something more comfortable so that we can be more comfortable? Your jeans’ button is rubbing against my stomach.”

Bridgette kissed the top of Monica’s head and replied, “Sure. What am I wearing to sleep in?”

When she then felt Monica’s hand move to the aforementioned button, which she undid, Bridgette’s heart rate increased about tenfold.

“Calm down,” Monica told her with a chuckle. “It was bugging me, so I undid it. Now, it’s not.”

“Oh, right,” Bridgette replied.

“Just stay here for a few more minutes now.” Monica held on to her tightly.

“Anything else bugging you? Like your shirt or your pants? Underwear, maybe?”

Monica laughed against her neck again and said, “You wish.”

“Yes, I definitely do.”

They held on to one another for a long time before Monica finally pulled back, and for a second, her eyes went to the unbuttoned jeans. Bridgette heard her groan, which made her laugh. Monica stood and got her some clothes to wear before she called down to have some toiletries brought up for her.

Then, after Bridgette had changed and taken care of brushing her hair and teeth, she climbed into bed next to Monica, who was already under the covers. Bridgette held out her arm, encouraging Monica to sleep against her chest. When she heard Monica’s breathing slow, Bridgette finally closed her own eyes and wondered how she’d managed to end up here with another perfect ending to her day.