Swipe Right

by Tagan Shepard

  I brought our lips together gently, a brush of supple flesh against supple flesh. Her lips were warm and dry against mine. I pressed a kiss to her right cheek, above the spot my thumb caressed. After her right cheek I kissed her left, then each eyebrow in turn, and finally the center of her forehead. Then I tucked her face into the crook of my neck, her cheek resting against my shoulder. When she started to sob, I held her close, the tears falling onto my neck and trickling down the open front of my shirt.

  She cried for a long time while I stroked her hair. She choked and sobbed and I held her tight, dropping the occasional kiss into her messy hair. I wondered when she had last cried for her mother. If she had ever allowed herself to cry like this. I hoped she had for her sake, but I knew how precious it was that I made her feel comfortable enough to open this old wound.

  When she cried herself dry, she slid closer, wrapping her arms around me. The light through the curtains made the room glow and the grip of her arms made me glow. Her breathing slowed until I could almost believe she was sleeping. Our breaths were synchronized, our chests rising and falling in perfect rhythm.

  “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Pen,” I started. When she didn’t pull away or tense up, I went on, “That must have been hard for both of you. And your dad never remarried.”

  “No. Once I thought he had a girlfriend at his assisted living facility, but she married some older dude with an eyepatch.”

  “Chicks dig a pirate.” She snorted at my joke, which I took for a good sign. “He never said why?”

  “We haven’t talked about it. I heard him tell my grandma once that he wasn’t looking for another mom for me.”

  I took a deep breath and dove in. It was now or never and I wasn’t going to let her use this as an excuse to not date me. “You’d already had the best mom out there. And he’d already had the best wife. Some loves can’t be replaced.”

  She sat up but didn’t have the distant look she’d had before. Also my unbuttoned shirt had come partly open during our embrace. Some of the best parts of my body were now showing and I wasn’t above distracting her with my tits to get her attention.

  “Can I offer a different explanation for how your dad reacted?” She didn’t stop me, so I plowed on. “Your mom had been in a lot of pain for a while. In and out of the hospital. You saw that but imagine how much more he saw. You can barely sleep and you don’t hurt as much as she did. He must’ve stayed up night after night trying to soothe her pain.”

  “Imagine his relief that he’d finally get to sleep through the night.”

  “Or his relief was that he didn’t have to see the woman he loved hurting anymore.” Her eyes were distant, and so I continued, hoping she was watching that scene in her mind with different eyes. “It sounds to me like his first reaction was the least selfish he could have. He thought of the end of her pain first, and the start of his second.”

  The room fell so quiet that I could hear the rustle of my pulse moving the shirt collar at my neck. I could see the thought seeping into her mind. I could see her processing the possibility.

  “He loved her so much he could never think of another woman in his life,” I whispered.

  If Connie had been anything like Pen, and I knew in my bones that she had been, she was the kind of woman who got under your skin and wouldn’t go away. The kind of woman who could never be replaced. The kind of woman you would drive yourself crazy over after only one night.

  “It must have killed him to see her hurting. Knowing that she was finally at peace…well…if it were me,” I had to bite back a sudden, overwhelming nausea at the thought of losing Pen. “If it were me, I’d want the woman I love to be free of pain. I can see how that would be a relief. Even if he’s spent the rest of his life missing her.”

  Pen stared into my eyes and I tried to show her that I understood her dad. That I felt the exact same way he did, only I felt it for the daughter his wife had been willing to shorten her life for. I don’t know what Pen saw there, but she wasn’t running away. In fact, her thumb had begun absentmindedly stroking my bare thigh. I soaked in the touch, hoping it was a sign she wasn’t preparing to bolt.

  “Maybe,” she said after a long time.

  It was a major admission, but I wasn’t going to let her get a big head about it.

  “Duh,” I said. She wrinkled her brow at me and I smiled in return. “I’m the smart one in the relationship.”

  I expected her to flinch at the word, but she didn’t. Maybe this could work out after all.

  “I guess that makes me the pretty one.”

  I feigned outrage, making sure the shirt fell back, revealing one naked breast. As I’d expected, Pen’s gaze went straight to it. Her thumb moved a little further up my thigh. It only took a moment for her to shake out of her daze.

  “I guess I never thought of it that way.”

  “Of course not, you were fourteen. You didn’t know what it meant to be in love yet.”

  “I may be older, but I’m not a whole lot more mature.” She stopped the motion of her thumb and slid further back on the bed. “This is going to be hard for me, Kieran. And not just because I’m used to going to bed with whoever I want, whenever I want. I’ve never been in love before.”

  “I know your entire outlook won’t change overnight.” I had to stop to catch my breath because she looked into my eyes and all the words I’d planned to say stuck in my throat. One side of her lips twitched up. She knew what she was doing to me. “But maybe you’d consider trying being exclusive. For me?”

  “There are a lot of things I’d be willing to try for you.”

  I waited for a “but” to continue the sentence. Something along the lines of “but I’m not that kind of girl” or “but that’s too much to ask.” None of those “buts” came. She just looked thoughtful for a long moment.

  “I don’t know how good I’m going to be at this.”

  “But you’ll try?”

  “Of course I will. I love you, Kieran.”

  The words ripped apart the last of my doubt and made my eyes prickle. If I’d known this was possible, I’d have called her over to help me with dating apps years ago.

  “Then you’re already amazing at this.” I lay back against the pillows and let my shirt fall all the way open. “And I love you, too.”

  She was practically drooling.

  “So Sunday is one of your rest days?”

  “Mmm Hmm.”

  “And you spend the whole day in bed?”

  “Mmm Hmm.”

  She crawled up the bed toward me.

  “Then I need your help. Get over here.”

  “Sure,” she said, flinging her T-shirt across the room. “What’s up?”

  “I’m horny.”

  “Whoa,” she said mimicking the panic in her voice from that Tuesday night a few months ago. “We’re not that kinda friends, remember?”

  I wondered if she’d felt that night how I felt now. Hopeful and a little apprehensive, but willing to do anything—to be anything—for this woman. I hooked a hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her down.

  I groaned as her body sank into mine. “We are now.”

  Epilogue

  Sitting in the conference room, I tapped my Goonies pen on the thick stack of documents in front of me. I hated waiting. Like really, really hated it.

  “Ugh, what is taking so long?” I growled to my pen.

  I was whining. I knew it. But this was the end of my workday and I wanted to get out of there. The heater overhead rumbled to life, shaking the ceiling tiles. Not that it was doing any good. The office was freezing. I wrapped the loose ends of my cardigan around my torso.

  Across the room an old, faded, ceramic Christmas tree blinked dully. Half the little plastic lights were opaque with age and the bulb inside didn’t quite have the umph to make them glow. The plastic menorah next to it on the table didn’t look any more robust, with gold paint chipping off in places. The thin coating of dust on both decorations made
them look sad, but it wasn’t that surprising this late into January. Carol was still out on maternity leave and no one else was willing to take over her role of de facto housekeeper. I knew Art and Randy were expecting me to do it, but they could take their traditional gender roles straight to hell.

  “Sorry, Kieran,” Art said as he eased into the room. “Copier jammed.”

  That at least sounded legit. Our copier had probably been around as long as the office Christmas tree, but that didn’t ease my impatience. Nor did the fact that he made a big show out of straightening his papers before sliding them into a folder emblazoned with the Three Keys logo. His grin was cartoonishly large when handed me the folder. My hands only shook a little when I took it.

  “Okay,” he said, holding out his hand, palm up. “Time for the big moment. You ready?”

  “Not exactly,” I said, squeezing the folder to my chest.

  “Shoulda thought of that before you signed all the docs.”

  “Yeah,” I grumbled. “I guess.”

  His expression was kind, but also wary. He was nervous about this big change in my life, as he’d informed me every day since I put my house on the market. I fished the ring of keys from my pocket and inspected them. I hoped it looked like I was checking to ensure they were all there, but I wanted to give them one last look.

  Art rolled his eyes and said with affected annoyance, “I’ve got plans with a beautiful woman tonight, Kieran.”

  I stuck out my tongue and slapped the keys into his palm. “So do I, Arthur.”

  “That’s Arty the Party to you, kid.” He tossed my…no the keys into the air and grabbed them. “Congrats. Seriously. This is a good move for you.”

  “Really? I didn’t think you…”

  “I don’t.” He scooped up the two copies of my closing documents. “But you’re happy, so I’m happy.”

  An hour later I was sitting alone in the quiet corner of Riveter’s bar, tapping my fingernails against my frosted martini glass. I took a sip every now and then, but mostly I was lost in thought.

  Nick and I had been married when we bought the townhouse, but it had been my inheritance that financed it. Without the life insurance money, we would have continued moving from one crappy apartment to another, skirting the edges of DC to find a place we could afford.

  The townhouse had been Pen’s listing and it took a lot of convincing to get Nick to agree to the location and the price. Staying after he’d left had nearly ruined me, both emotionally and financially, but it was mine and I wasn’t going to let him take everything. Now it wasn’t mine anymore and I wasn’t sure I liked that.

  “Pardon me, ma’am. You look like you could use a friend.”

  Pen’s throaty voice sent electricity across my skin that settled low in my belly. The heat of her body and the brush of her breath against my neck as she leaned over me to whisper in my ear didn’t hurt either. Six months on and her presence still made my toes curl with desire. I hoped the feeling never went away.

  “I’m afraid I’m waiting for someone,” I purred, bringing the glass to my lips.

  “Are you sure that someone isn’t me?”

  Pen’s arm snaked around my side, her fingers pressing into my belly. If we’d been home, she would have trailed them up to cup my breast, or maybe further down. She’d taken me like that more than once at her kitchen counter. Our kitchen counter I corrected myself. As of one hour ago, we were officially cohabitants of Pen’s deliciously comfortable house. Damn, how I wished we were there now.

  I craned my neck to look over my shoulder at her. Her eyes danced with mischief in the low light. She got sexier every day.

  “Mmmm. Maybe it is. Can I buy you a drink?” I cut a glance at her martini sweating on the bar beside me. “I had the bartender make that one for my girlfriend.”

  Pen dipped her mouth to capture mine. Her sweet, insistent lips drew me in, stealing my breath away. Her arm tightened around me, pulling our bodies close as our tongues became reacquainted. She’d spent all day with potential buyers for a new Georgetown property and I’d missed her like hell. I found my fingers sliding through the hair at the base of her neck, my nails scratching across her scalp of their own accord. Just as my body melted into hers, she drew back from the kiss, my bottom lip between her teeth.

  “Damn y’all,” Abby said from the other side of the bar. “You should charge admission.”

  Pen’s throaty laugh helped ground me, but I’ll admit my head was still reeling from the kiss. Hello to you, too. She dropped onto the stool next to me and snatched up her martini, taking a deep, appreciative sip. Abby was still leaning in with her elbows on the bar, the personification of the heart-eyes emoji. She wasn’t wearing a wig tonight, her real bangs so long they swooped down to her chin and the back spiky.

  “You couldn’t afford us,” Pen teased. “But I’d hire you to serve drinks. This is a damn fine martini, friend. You’re the best.”

  Abby slapped a towel over her shoulder and scoffed. “Tell my girlfriend. Or make that ex-girlfriend.”

  “You and Josie split up?” I asked, reaching out for her paint-speckled hand. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

  She shrugged, but her disappointment was all too clear. “Wasn’t meant to be.”

  “Looks like you’re not the only one nursing a broken heart,” Pen said, nodding to the other side of the room.

  Marlene, still walking as gayly as ever, slumped through the door and plopped onto a barstool. She was practically living on that stool these days, ever since her ex had moved out of her place. Pen’s matchmaking had lasted through the summer, but it hadn’t survived the holidays.

  “At least tonight she’s wearing a clean shirt,” Abby said. “Even if it is still flannel.”

  “You’ve been noticing her shirt, huh?” Pen teased.

  I was about to slap her arm when I noticed a faint pinkness forming on Abby’s cheeks. She stammered a half-hearted denial and hurried off to fill a drink order. She avoided Marlene’s weak smile, but she stopped long enough to drop a bottle of beer in front of her.

  “She didn’t have to ask the order,” I murmured. “Damn, how’d you know, Pen?”

  “I’m very good at reading people.” Her reply included a suggestive smirk. “For instance, I can tell that you’re freaking out a little about selling your house.”

  “What? No…that’s not…” I spluttered, then I squeaked, then I sighed. “Maybe a little.”

  Pen leaned over and brushed her lips across mine. “It’s okay, baby. I understand.”

  “You do? ‘Cause it’s not that I don’t want to move in with you.” I was practically in her lap. “I love living with you.” Not just because waking up next to her every morning meant more chances for morning sex. “It’s…”

  “A big step.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And a little scary?”

  “Not scary exactly.” I twirled my martini glass, watching the olive sway in the drink. “I have a lot of good memories in that house.”

  Pen purred, her eyebrows dancing. “Me too.”

  “Perv.”

  “You know you were thinking it.” She took a sip of her drink. “Remember that time on the dining room table?”

  A spike of desire snaked through me at the memory. We’d broken one of the green chairs I’d bought at Lucketts, but it had been worth it.

  “And the kitchen floor,” Pen cooed.

  “I liked the time on your kitchen floor better.”

  “Our kitchens aren’t safe, are they? We shouldn’t have people over for dinner.” She laughed and raised her glass. “To big steps and good memories.”

  I touched my glass against hers. “To living with the love of my life.”

  “I’ll drink to that.”

  We drained our glasses and made out a little while Abby refilled them. I was wondering if I could drag her into the alley for old time’s sake when she sat back and cleared her throat.

  “Speaking of big steps.”

&nbs
p; Pen avoided my eye, tearing off a corner of her bar napkin and rolling it into a tight ball. She tossed it onto the bar and took a deep breath, reaching into the breast pocket of her jacket. She’d been wearing men’s suits almost exclusively these days. This one had been tailored to fit her tightly across the chest and I took the opportunity to ogle her breasts. I was pretty sure she was wearing the red lace bra, which hinted I was in for a fun night.

  Then I saw what she took out of her pocket and my stomach dropped. Apparently someone else was in for a fun night.

  The first few weeks we were together involved some soul-searching conversations about what we wanted from each other and the relationship. The more we shared, the more I opened my mind to the possibility of a…less than traditional arrangement. The conversations culminated in a ceremony of sorts. Some months ago, I’d crafted an elaborate art project. It was a wooden block, painted in gold and covered in decorative buttons and bangles with the words “Hall Pass” in bold calligraphy.

  I knew I had Pen’s heart, but I had decided that her body was hers to share. As long as she told me where she was going and came home to me after, she was free to enjoy a limited non-monogamy. It had been a huge moment in our relationship and had served to bring us closer together rather than further apart.

  She’d only used it three times in the months since. Twice with Ashley and Katie and once for a night out on the town “for old time’s sake” as she put it. I’d been surprised how little it had bothered me, though I had declined to join in her second trip to Ashley’s. It was one thing to let her sleep with others, but I wasn’t quite ready to join in.

  “Oh,” I said as she slid the pass across the bar to me. “Is there someone here or are you heading out?”

  I’m pretty sure I kept the disappointment out of my voice. It wasn’t that I minded her using it. I’d thought we’d spend the night together since it was official that I’d moved in. No more escape routes. Just her and me in our house.