Girl Love Happens Boxed Set: Books 0-2

by T. B. Markinson

  I whipped around, only to see her laughing. “Wise guy, huh?” I climbed on top of her with every intention of tickling her until she begged me to stop. However, once I glimpsed the sexual intensity in her eyes, I changed course and planted a kiss on her lips.

  Gemma, clearly shy about morning breath, rolled me onto my back, shoving my tank top to my neck more urgently than normal.

  “What’s the rush?” I walked my fingers under her Husker shirt down her back to her rounded ass.

  “I’m just glad I have someone like you in my life.”

  I appraised her with one eye shut. “Where’s this coming from?”

  “Last night. It was intense at Jenny’s.” She nuzzled her head into my chest. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.” Gemma licked my nipple. “I want to show you how much I love and appreciate you.”

  “Oh, Gemma.” I swallowed. “Fuck me.”

  She wiggled her hips some. “That’s the plan.” Her hand slithered down my stomach and separated my legs. “Seems like I have more work to do.”

  I was bone dry.

  She bit down hard on my nipple, snapping me out of my head and into the moment.

  “Giddy up, cowgirl.”

  Gemma ground her hip into me all the while kissing my chest with the right mixture of naughty and nice. “I love how smooth your skin is.” She caressed my stomach with her cheek. “And you smell so pure.”

  I squished my eyes shut so she wouldn’t pick up on the emotion roiling within me. “I need you. Inside. Take me away.”

  Gemma peeled off my underwear, her tongue getting down to work stroking my pussy lips for several moments, priming the pump, to allow her finger easy access.

  “Yes!” I fisted the hair on the back of her head. “Oh, you feel so good,” I purred.

  Her tongue stroked my clit sensually. “You taste good. I wonder if I could survive solely feasting on your juices for sustenance.”

  “I’m game. Let’s never leave this bedroom.”

  Gemma set to work, shoving her fingers deep inside me, forcing my back to arch. A growl rumbled in my chest. Gem dove in deeper, her tongue working in tandem, intent on bringing me to the brink.

  It didn’t take long for my legs to start to shake. Gemma pulled her fingers upward, triggering my G-spot, and I pulled her head to my mouth, not caring about her shyness about morning breath. All I could taste was myself, anyway, and she showed no sign of being turned off by my probing tongue.

  My lower body trembled, but I didn’t release her mouth, wanting to be as close as possible. Even after the flashes of light ended, and my body stopped quivering, I continued kissing her as if worried that if we stopped, I’d never get the opportunity again.

  Needing air, I released her, panting. “I could kiss you all day.”

  She pulled my lips back, kissing me fervently.

  Again, we separated, both breathing hard.

  Her belly grumbled loudly, bringing a beautiful blush to her cheeks.

  “I better feed you to keep up your energy.” I pressed the tip of her nose.

  “Maybe I just need another taste.” She looked down, licking her lips.

  “I have no intention of leaving the apartment until both of us are satiated. I’ll even call in to work if I have to.” I stood, shrugging into my Umbros and tugging my tank back into place. “Chocolate chips in your waffles?”

  “Please.” Gemma swung her freckled legs over the side of the bed, yawning.

  “You poor thing. Your eyes are so red.” I cradled her cheek.

  “Bernie isn’t a force to be trifled with.”

  “Did she come home, then?”

  Gemma nodded solemnly. “Cursing like a sailor. I bailed at Jenny’s urging. I’m supposed to call today to see how things stand.”

  “Poor Jenny.”

  I quickly peed before heading to the kitchen to make a batch of waffles with my brand-spanking new appliance I’d yet to break in. Gathering the Bisquick, milk, and eggs, I mixed them in a silver bowl. I’d add the chocolate chips when I poured the batter onto the iron.

  Gemma entered the kitchen and dialed a number on the phone, presumably Jenny’s. With her back to me, she waited, finally giving up on what I guessed was the tenth ring from the tones rattling in my head.

  “No luck?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Hopefully that means they aren’t home.”

  “Or having makeup sex.”

  Gemma leaned against the counter, resting her hands on the edge. “Not sure about that. Jenny and I tossed her apartment, trying to find it.”

  “It?” Not them? Did that mean Bernie only knew about the one from her nightstand? If that was the case, I needed to return it and fast. But, why did it take her two days to realize it was gone?

  Gemma filled a plastic Hill University cup with tap water. “The diary. Luckily, from what I gathered it was a new one, so not a huge loss. Not that Bernie sees it that way.”

  If Bernie thought Jenny had confiscated the new one, wouldn’t she check for the old one as well? I would. I cradled my stomach as if I had a menstrual cramp. “I think you knocked something lose. Can you stir this?” I handed her the wooden spoon and dashed to my bedroom, seizing the journals with lightning speed and then hiding in the bathroom as I frantically leafed through the older journal, finding the date seared into my mind. I should have done this when I found it and put it back in place. Such a rookie mistake!

  There wasn’t time to read the entry, so I ripped out that page, the few pages preceding it, and then a handful after it, hoping the gap wasn’t too noticeable. I lifted the lid to the hunter green plastic trash can and laid the pages and diaries under all the yucky trash, gagging when I spied a used Maxi pad liner, knowing neither Gem nor I used them. “Ewww!” I wiped my hands on a wad of toilet paper. At the sink, I scoured them with antibacterial soap and hot water that was one step from peeling the first layer off.

  Drying my hands on the towel on the rack, Gemma called me with a slight panic in her voice.

  I rushed to the kitchen. “Wh—? Oh my God.” I pulled the plug to the waffle iron and fanned all the smoke with both hands before it could set off the fire alarm. Laughing, I asked, “What’d you do?”

  Gemma ran the back of her hand over her forehead. “I poured the batter. That’s all.”

  I checked it. “Did you turn the heat up?”

  “Um…”

  “And did you spray it with Pam so it wouldn’t stick?”

  “Um…”

  The look of cluelessness on her face was priceless. I clapped my hands together. “This is wonderful!”

  Gemma tapped her chin with two fingers all the while peering at traces of smoke still escaping from the waffle maker. “What’s your definition? From my viewpoint, I ruined breakfast.”

  “Completely!” I twirled around. “I never thought I’d see this day.”

  “What are you on?”

  That stopped my celebration. “Nothing! Don’t you see what this means? I’m actually better at something than you, Miss Perfect.” I lightly tweaked her nose with my thumb and forefinger.

  Gemma crossed her arms. “I’m not perfect.”

  “Not anymore.” I clapped my hands together again. “And it’s wonderful.”

  Gemma shook her head. “You’re being weird today. More than usual.”

  “Hey!” I pressed a finger into her shoulder. “Don’t be mean just because you lost your perfect shine.” I waved to the waffle iron. “I’ll have to soak that for hours to get all the crispy bits out.” Considering the monumental task of cleaning it, my voice was over-the-top giddy.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe I should go to the cooking classes with you. Clearly, I don’t know what I’m doing. Mom tried to teach me, but I didn’t have an interest.”

  “Not a chance in hell! Give me this one thing.” I slanted my head and crossed my arms over my tits.

  She laughed. “I don’t really
understand what you’re talking about, but if you want to be mistress in the kitchen, by all means, I grant you the title.” She bowed.

  “I could get used to that nickname.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What’s for breakfast now?”

  I crouched down and pulled the drawer open under the oven to retrieve a large frying pan. “Chocolate chip pancakes. There’s enough batter left. Can you get me the Pam from the cabinet? I don’t want to ruin round two.” I winked.

  Gemma stared at me oddly.

  “Now what’s wrong?”

  She remained contemplative for a moment longer in her typical thinker way. “Last night, we didn’t search the kitchen.”

  I skirted around her for the cabinet to nab the cooking spray while Gemma took her time figuring out whatever riddle was going through that complicated brain of hers.

  Gemma bobbed her head. “It has to be there. A diary doesn’t just walk off. You hid yours in the kitchen. Maybe you two have more in common than you thought.”

  “We do not!” Damn it, I really needed to control the crack in my voice whenever this subject came up.

  She frowned but didn’t pursue my aversion.

  Wait. Could that be the answer?

  Gemma scratched the top of her head. “Bernie sleep walks, and Jenny is constantly finding stuff in weird places. Like toilet paper in the freezer.”

  I ladled batter onto the warming pan. “That’s weird. I can’t even begin to imagine what prompted that. Even when asleep.”

  “Exactly. I should call her.” Gemma reached for the phone.

  “Wait!”

  Gemma glanced over her shoulder, confused.

  “Why don’t we go over and check for ourselves? No reason to get her hopes up, considering the odds are minimal at best.” I held my forefinger and thumb in the air.

  Gem bobbed her head. “Yeah, I see your point.”

  I didn’t. But I needed time to stash the diary in their kitchen in order for it to be discovered. If only I had time to rally sidekick Cuddy for this operation.

  “Wouldn’t it be funny if it was in the drawer under the oven this whole time. Not many college kids cook, not even if their mom is a super mom like yours.” Pleased I’d planted this seed, I shooed her out of the kitchen. “Go shower. I’ve got breakfast covered.”

  The phone rang, and for a brief moment, I thought the relationship gods had intervened. If you think of Cuddy, he will call.

  “Cuddy?” I spoke into the phone.

  “Uh, no.”

  Crestfallen, I said, “Hey, Jen-Meister. How are you?”

  “Not great. Is Gemma there?”

  “She’s in the shower. Can I have her call you back?”

  “Yeah, but Tegan…” Her voice drifted into silence.

  “I’m still here.” I hunched the phone into the crook of my neck so I could flip the pancakes, having to twirl around to free myself from the cord.

  “Do you…? Oh, never mind. Have Gemma call me?”

  “Don’t hang up. Jenny, are you there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What were you going to ask?” I closed my eyes, bracing for the question and wondering if I would be able to outright lie over the phone.

  “I was… Do you think…? Will she forgive me?”

  “Who?”

  “Bernie. Will she come back?” She started to cry.

  “Oh, Jenny. All of this is just a huge misunderstanding. She’ll see that… eventually.”

  “But, the things she said last night. I’ve never seen her so pissed off. And hand to chest, Tegan, I didn’t take her diary. I thought about it, but I didn’t. I promise I didn’t.”

  “I believe you.” I clenched my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady my thudding heart. Could Jenny hear it?

  “You do?” she asked in relief. “I thought…”

  “What?” I asked in a soft voice.

  “That you didn’t and that’s why you didn’t come over last night.”

  “Oh, Jenny. That’s not it at all.” Actually, I didn’t come over because all of this is my fault and I couldn’t face you.

  “Gemma and I will come over soon. We don’t want you to go through this alone.”

  “Thanks. You’re a great friend.”

  I nearly choked on the massive lump in my throat. “See you soon.” I replaced the phone on the wall cradle.

  “Was that Jenny?”

  I whipped around with a hand on my thundering heart. “Jesus! Don’t do that.”

  Gemma blinked.

  I laughed and realized I needed to defuse the situation. These spy shenanigans weren’t worth all the trouble, and the angst was doing a number on my stomach. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you, and I don’t know. Talking to Jenny upset me.”

  Gemma pulled me into a supportive embrace. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “What if she leaves Jenny?” It’d be all my fault, minus the part where Bernie cheated on Jenny and then kissed me to silence my lips, knowing Gemma was prone to giving into the green-eyed monster. My body went cold and my stomach churned.

  Gemma brushed my cheek with the tips of her fingers. “Then we’ll be there for our friend. What else can we do?”

  Not steal Bernie’s diary, for one thing.

  “Your pancakes are done.” I stepped out of her embrace and scooped them onto a plate. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Aren’t you hungry?” Gemma smeared butter over the top, adding a liberal amount of Mrs. Butterworth. She held the plate under my nose. “How can you refuse?”

  I covered my mouth and dashed to the bathroom, Gemma hot on my heels.

  She pulled my hair back in time.

  Afterward, I sat on the floor with my back against the wall opposite the toilet.

  “Do you have the flu?”

  Guilt flu.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Maybe you should stay home. I can go to Jenny’s today.”

  “No!” I blotted my forehead with the bottom of my tank. “I’m just upset… for Jenny. I want to be there.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?”

  “A shower will fix me up. Go. Eat. If you still can.” I pointed to the scene of my vomiting crime.

  “You won’t pass out in the shower, will you?” Gemma’s concern-filled eyes made me feel drastically worse.

  I flicked my hand. “Go. Please. I need a moment.”

  ***

  Outside Jenny’s apartment door, I clutched my purse close to my side.

  Gemma looked me over. “You sure about this?”

  “Yes.” I gripped my purse tighter.

  Gemma knocked on the door, and Jenny answered almost immediately. Her eyes were nearly swollen shut.

  “Hey,” she said without any heart in the word.

  I tossed my arms around her, not knowing what to say.

  Jenny ushered us inside. “Would either of you like a beer?”

  It was minutes before noon. “Uh, no thanks,” I said.

  Jenny picked up a can from the coffee table and shook it. “I’m going to grab one for me.”

  I waved for her to take a seat. “Let me.” Without peeking at Gemma’s face, which I’d bet showed concern that Jenny had already consumed at least one beer, I made a break for the kitchen, my purse still on my shoulder. Peeking over the open counter into the main room, I saw both of them with their backs to me. Quickly, I stashed the new diary under one of the pans in the bottom drawer of the oven, hopping back up relieved the drawer didn’t squawk like the one at home. Satisfied with the first task, I grabbed a beer for Jenny from the fridge. Back with Jenny and Gemma, I said, “Last one. You sure you want it now?”

  Jenny, entrenched in her beanbag, flicked her fingers for me to hand it over. “A buddy is buying more for me.”

  “Who?” Gemma asked with a pinched face.

  “Paula. She’s on the softball team.” />
  “I remember her.” Over Jenny’s head, I bared my teeth to mimic her John Elway buckteeth.

  Gemma covered her mouth, her eyes pleading for me to knock it off. Probably not wise to burst into a fit of giggles while Jenny was miserable.

  I planted my ass on the corner of the coffee table, with my hand on my knees. “You still haven’t located the diary?”

  Jenny shook her head, swigging the beer.

  “And you’ve looked everywhere? Even the places that most would miss?” I pushed.

  “Like where?”

  Gemma hopped off the barstool. “Mind if I get a glass of water?”

  Jenny indicated for her to go ahead. “Where do you think it is?”

  “Under the mattress,” I said in an effort to give Gemma more time, although, if she didn’t manage to find it, I’d seriously doubt her sleuthing skills.

  From the sounds of drawers opening and closing, Gemma was doing her damnedest.

  “That was the first place I looked,” Jenny said and then added, “under the mattress.” She squinted with one eye at the kitchen.

  “Aha!” Gemma crowed, reentering the room with the diary that’d caused so much trouble.

  Jenny leaped up, spilling some of her beer on the beige carpet. “Dude, you’re a miracle worker!”

  Gemma hooked her thumb in my direction. “Actually, Tegan gave me the idea earlier when she was cooking my breakfast.”

  Jenny appraised me with admiration and then bumped arms with Gemma. “You’re a lucky woman to have someone so beautiful who also cooks for you. A dream come true.”

  My skin prickled with heat. “Can I use your bathroom?”

  Gemma studied me, asking with her eyes if I was about to blow chunks again. I gave a slight shake of the head, leaving them to implement stage two of my master plan.

  Luckily neither the bathroom nor bedroom door was visible from the sitting area. I quickly located the shoebox in the closet, which wasn’t exactly where I’d left it when Cuddy and I were here. Probably the result of Jenny and Gemma’s efforts to ferret out the other diary. I crammed the book under the black stilettos, right where it’d been previously. Wait, I never looked at the pictures in the diary. Nope, no time. I went into the bathroom and flushed the toilet to throw both of them off my trail.