“I know. You told me.”
“Yeah, and then you ran away from me.” Lauren looked at their hands, still joined on the top of the cheap plastic table. “So obviously that’s not okay.”
“I mean, it’s…”
“I get it, okay? You had your heart broken, and…I don’t want to make you feel like she did. Ever again.”
“I’m okay,” Arielle said, and for the first time, she really believed those words. “I’m okay,” she repeated. “And I’m here at McDonalds, the crappiest restaurant in town, with you because I just want to hang out with you, and I didn’t want to wait until after class. It was too long.”
Lauren smiled, then looked down at their hands again. “I had sex with him,” she said quietly. “A lot. We…just had a lot of sex.”
Something stung at Arielle’s chest, spreading numbness throughout her body. She swallowed, somehow feeling like that would force her creeping tears back. She’d figured they’d had sex, even told Rion she was almost certain they had, but hearing it from Lauren made it so much more real.
“Arielle,” Lauren said with a sharp edge to her voice, forcing Arielle to look up. “I want to be honest with you, okay?” she blew out a breath, and before waiting for Arielle’s response, said, “I liked it. A lot.”
Arielle gave a sharp laugh. “Well, I guess that’s why you did it so much. So what the hell are you doing…here? I mean, what are we doing?” Arielle forced some kindness into her voice, despite the fact that the words were accusing. Paranoid, maybe.
Lauren leaned forward, reaching her hand out and brushing her fingers gently down Arielle’s jawline. Arielle shivered. “Like I said. I like you. And I know you’ve been hurt, and I respect that. But I couldn’t just let you go. When you kissed me…when I kissed you back…I felt something that I’d never felt. Like you’d reached into some part of me that nobody had even ever seen before. That nobody had ever tried to see.”
Arielle raised her eyes to Lauren’s, so close to hers now, so beautiful, that she could have cried. “And?”
“And I want more.”
That was it. Arielle pushed forward, pressing her lips into Lauren’s. A small whimper that sounded like surprise and relief all at once came from Lauren, and if Arielle hadn’t been using her arm to push herself across the table, she would have pushed her fingers through Lauren’s hair, letting them tangle there and then slip through, like she’d daydreamed almost constantly since the last time. God, Lauren was so soft and so perfect, so completely wonderful that this should be a dream.
Maybe it was. That’s what she had been trying to tell Arielle, wasn’t it? Maybe Lauren didn’t even have an ounce of lesbian in her, and maybe she couldn’t really ever love Arielle like Arielle wanted to love someone—madly and deeply enough to be not just smitten, but devoted, for a lifetime. But then Lauren’s tongue flicked out along her bottom lip, giving Arielle just a taste of something even more intense, and every stray thought left Arielle’s head again.
Until seconds later, when a rough, rasping throat broke through the haze. Arielle pulled away, trying to steady her breathing and memorize the feeling of Lauren’s lips against hers, never wanting to forget how one touch could take her away from everything.
One problem with Lauren—Arielle never knew whether there would be a next time. Would she ever?
Lauren had already sat fully back in her seat, and when Arielle snapped out of her daze, she realized why. Some skinny, pimply kid stood there at their table, shuffling from foot to foot, sneaking glances at them. “Can we help you?” Arielle asked.
“Ah…I’m sorry to disturb you. It’s just that…”
“You don’t want to see that kind of thing in here? Is that it?” Arielle was in attack mode now. She’d been brave enough to set this date up, brave enough to kiss a girl who wasn’t even really hers in public. Brave enough to try to convince Lauren that Arielle was what she wanted, fast food restaurant be damned.
“No, Ari.” Lauren leaned her head into the restaurant, empty except for a couple of workers, one turning out lights behind the ordering counter and the other wiping down tables in the main eating area. “They’re closing up.”
“Just because it’s Sunday, we’re closing at seven…ah…I’m sorry about that.” Arielle’s eyes flicked down the to the guy’s pants, which weren’t too far below her face, the awkward way he was standing. Poor kid. He had a boner the size of Texas. She smirked, satisfied that she and Lauren at least looked damn hot when they were making out.
When Lauren stood to take her tray to the trash, Arielle started to collect her things. Arielle shoved her arms in her jacket sleeves, slung her bag over her shoulder, pushed in her chair, and grabbed Lauren’s bag for her. When Lauren walked back to the table from dumping their trash into the bin, she reached out to Arielle for her bag with gentle fingers and a plain smile, the light in her eyes purely electric.
It transferred to the space between the two of them so strongly that Arielle felt like if she didn’t touch Lauren again, soon, she’d burst. As so she did, reaching out to grab her hand, her heart swelling when Lauren grabbed hers back, squeezing with that hand while pushing the door open with the other.
The wind whipped down Francis Street, especially cold on this early November night. Winter would be here soon, and the semester was almost over. Arielle would have to answer a million questions when she went home for Thanksgiving—if she went home for Thanksgiving. She knew all this, and she also knew that the girl she was rapidly falling in love with was probably completely and totally wrong for her. But when Lauren looped her long arm around Arielle’s waist, pulled her close, and kissed her again, Arielle didn’t care about anything else in the universe—not even the things that should have stopped her from kissing Lauren in the first place.
“What do you want to do now?” she managed when the soft press of Lauren’s lips finally eased from hers. She meant what did Lauren want out of this relationship, what would happen next? Was the date over now, and if it was, would there be another one? Should they talk about this or act like it never happened. At this point, Arielle would have been ready to convince herself that making out, and eventually having sex, in secret would be just fine, as long as she never had to stop tasting Lauren, never had to stop feeling the soft warmth of Lauren’s skin against her body.
“My place. I want to…I don’t know exactly what, but I don’t want to stop. I want to kiss you again. I want to kiss you more, and harder, and…” Lauren’s words were breathy, feverish and fast. Arielle had trouble finding her breath. She wanted that too, and so much more. She wanted this all to end perfectly. Which meant she didn’t want it to end at all.
“Okay,” she whispered, letting her forehead touch Lauren’s, watching their breath make clouds and mingle together in the frigid air.
Lauren smiled, biting her lip. “My room is all mine. Do you want to…I mean, I could make you a cup of tea or something. Help you warm up.”
Arielle nodded, trying to keep her breaths even. “I want to.” This time, she left the statement open-ended on purpose. She wanted so many things, and the only thing she didn’t want, right at this moment, was for this to end.
“Come on,” Lauren said with a smile in her eyes as she nudged open the heavy main door to Lauren’s residence hall, motioning for Arielle to go in first.
“Isn’t there a thing with visitors?” Arielle asked when she caught sight of the desk worker.
“There is,” Lauren said under her breath, “But Phil is more interested in beating the next level of his video game than how many people are coming in. Just stay by my side and stay quiet. His peripheral vision is not stellar.”
Arielle nodded, and did as Lauren asked. When they passed by the desk, Phil, a lanky kid in a hipster plaid shirt and thick orange glasses, flicked his gaze over to them for a fraction of a second. “Hey Lauren,” he mumbled, already engrossed in his game again.
“Hey yourself,” she said. “Kill those zombies before they e
at your brains.”
“All the zombies want my brains,” Phil said absentmindedly, and Arielle stifled a giggle.
When the elevator doors slid open, Arielle was nervous all over again. The only real relationship she’d ever had was based on closed doors, on keeping careful track of who knew, and who didn’t. Who saw, what they thought. Even though Lauren had kissed her in public, now—twice–it was a reflex Arielle just couldn’t shake.
Inside the elevator stood two girls, dressed to go out, which was idiotic given the frigid whipping wind. Their tight skirts could have been tube tops for all Arielle knew, and they tottered on four-inch stilettos, leaning on the walls for support. Arielle gave them the once over and fought to keep from wrinkling her nose. She’d never understood why girls did this. Did guys actually like girls who wore mere scraps of fabric in the frigid cold and strapped spikes onto their heels that made it impossible for them to move?
“Heading in early, Lauren? Or are you girls pre-gaming?”
Lauren gave a disingenuous laugh. “Obviously you already have been pre-gaming. You’re lucky Phil’s at the desk tonight.”
“It’s not my first day in the dorm. We checked the schedule before we decided to stay in a few extra hours tonight.” This girl had long blond curls, too perfect and inflexible to be natural, and lips painted a wet-looking red, like if someone breathed on her the wrong way they would smear irreparably. “Why aren’t you coming out with us? I thought you wanted to check out the houses before recruitment officially starts.”
Lauren shrugged, like she hadn’t even thought about going out with these two before this moment, even though their words suggested otherwise. “Another time. We’ve already been out tonight.”
The other girl, another blond, but with straight, wispy layers, shrugged. “Your loss. Sig Eps are the hottest guys on campus.”
“I’m sure they are,” Lauren said, with not a hint of interest in her voice.
“Well, enjoy your girls’ night in or whatever,” the shorter girl called as they wobbled on their heels out of the elevator. Damn, wearing those outfits out tonight was a mixture of stupid and brave. The door slid shut, and Arielle murmured, “I can’t tell whether you’re friends or enemies with those girls.”
“Aw, they’re harmless. Just a little drunk.”
Arielle raised an eyebrow. She’d found that simple conversation with them exhausting, but then again, that was how she felt about most normal social interactions. It was no secret to anyone who had known Arielle more than a few weeks that she was an introvert—a character trait that Rachel had taken full advantage of.
Had Arielle enabled the whole horrible breakup to begin with? Had she made Rachel think that she wanted to be kept a fun little secret?
Dammit, she had to get Rachel out of her head. Whatever was about to happen here with Lauren, Arielle had to just…let it happen. She had to appreciate it for what it was, be happy for whatever good things came out of it, and, for once in her life, deal with the implications of something after it happened, rather than before.
Lauren fidgeted opposite her on the elevator, her fingers playing with the zipper tab on her jacket, her knees moving ever so slightly while her feet stayed in place. And Arielle remembered that, as much as her feelings for Lauren scared her, this might be even scarier for Lauren. This was all new to her.
“Thanks for bringing me up,” Arielle murmured as the elevator lurched to a stop and the doors slid open. The seventh floor lay quiet outside the doors, not a sound to be heard on the honors-designated floor. Something small in the back of Arielle’s mind wanted to ask a hundred questions about how Lauren fit into this world—ached to know every detail of her life, to find out more about her, as soon as possible.
“Thanks for coming up.” Lauren’s mouth twitched up in the corner as she reached for Arielle’s hand and pulled her silently out of the elevator.
The key rasped into the lock, and Arielle swore she could hear every turn of the pins inside. Lauren moved into the room so quickly that Arielle reached back to save the keys from dangling outside the door all night. Maybe she turned away from Lauren on purpose, just to break the intensity that had been building between them, because, dear Lord, she didn’t know if she could say one more word while looking into her eyes without lunging for her and pulling her onto the bed.
So she started to ramble. “So I think I remember which movies were online for streaming, and if you want, we could…”
Arielle watched the door slide against the jamb, heavy and final. What happened in the next few moments would change everything, one way or another. She held her breath and turned to look at Lauren, then let it out in one full whoosh when she realized that Lauren stood inches from her, as though she’d had a plan for something to do, something to say, and let something stop her. But then Lauren’s eyes darted to Arielle’s lips, and then Lauren’s tongue ran along her bottom lip.
“I have to know,” Arielle said, looking into her eyes. “What are we…I mean, what do you want to…” her breath stopped short in her throat when Lauren moved one step closer to her, then another. Then Lauren’s hands moved to Arielle’s hips, and Arielle’s world spun.
“I don’t know for sure,” Lauren said. “But I know I don’t want to stop.”
That was enough for Arielle, who closed the distance between them in a single step, let her fingers rest gently on the sides of Lauren’s face, looked into her eyes. There was no more room for “Are you sure?” or worry. There was hunger in Lauren’s eyes that mirrored her own. And, finally, Arielle gave herself permission to satisfy it.
Lauren’s room was still dark, outlined in pale blue shadows from the scant lights coming in from the courtyard. The whisper of her hair against Arielle’s shoulder as she moved in, closer and closer, made Arielle’s eyes flutter closed, and then, all at once and completely wonderfully, what she wanted—the warm, soft press of Lauren’s lips against hers. Lauren’s hands never left the sides of her face, but didn’t grab her and seize her, either. When Arielle’s lips parted, Lauren’s tongue sensed the welcome, and came in quietly, patiently. Like she thought this kiss deserved all the time in the world.
Arielle’s arms snaked up over Lauren’s shoulders, and she clasped her own wrist behind her head, telling Lauren that every inch of her body was in this. But the kisses stayed soft, fluttery, questioning. Teasing, almost. Standing with every inch of their bodies pressed together, alone in Lauren’s bedroom, Arielle was done with questions. She wanted answers.
Arielle’s fingers danced over Lauren’s ribs as she slid them up Lauren’s shirt, electrified by the perfect smoothness of her skin. Her hands gripped Lauren’s sides, strong, as she turned her around, pressing her back against the door and standing on tiptoes to deepen the kiss. A small moan rumbled up through Lauren’s throat, and Arielle thought she would die right there on the spot if she couldn’t have more of Lauren’s perfect skin under her hands.
It was almost as if Lauren had heard her thoughts, because her long, beautiful fingers skimmed Ari’s waist and rested on her butt, thumbs hooking into her belt loops. It was so sexy, so possessive, that Arielle couldn’t help herself. She moved her hands up, and when Lauren’s breasts rested heavy on her palms, she just about melted into a frenzy of lust.
Hands weren’t enough anymore. She had to have her mouth, her tongue, on every inch of Lauren. Every worry that had plagued her melted away at that one strong, simple need.
When Lauren’s head bent forward and she sucked at Arielle’s neck, the last shreds of her concern melted away. Lauren wanted this too. Arielle let her head fall back and gasped, inviting Lauren in, asking her to show her just how much she wanted to taste Arielle, too. Lauren’s hands skimmed around to Arielle’s waist, squeezing so that her thumbs dug into the bottom of Arielle’s ribs. So close to Arielle’s breasts that she thought she might die.
Arielle wanted more, but she wasn’t going to be the first to take off clothing. Except…maybe her bag. It fell to the floor
, and tugged the sleeve of her jacket down, too. So Arielle wiggled her arms out of that, stepping back from Lauren for the briefest of seconds, just to let it fall on the floor. When Lauren grabbed for her and tugged her close again, diving in and devouring her mouth like she was starved for it, Arielle moaned and gave in, arching her back as if to tell Lauren to take her, if she wanted to.
And thank God, she did. Still clutching at Arielle’s waist, Lauren took one step back, then paused. The wait for more was excruciating, and Arielle started to wonder if Lauren was changing her mind. Lauren let go, and took two steps more away from Arielle. Just as Ari’s heart began to sink, Lauren pulled her cotton long-sleeved tee off in one motion, then stood there, waiting for Arielle. The static cling in her hair framed her swollen lips and flushed cheeks like a halo. Her breasts sat full and flawless in a nude lace bra that matched her skin perfectly.
Arielle stood there, frozen, taking her in, barely able to move and dying to touch her again all at once.
“Is…is this okay?” Lauren whispered, looking down to her shirt, crumpled on the floor, like maybe she’d made some mistake. She checked Arielle’s eyes.
“This is perfect. I said it once, and I’ll say it again. And again and again. You are perfect.” As she said it, Arielle felt just how much fear bled into every word. Because every time she thought how perfect Lauren was, she fell more in love with her, without really knowing whether Lauren would ever—could ever—really love her back.
Arielle was throwing herself into this girl’s arms, letting Lauren into her heart, without ever knowing whether Lauren would be the girlfriend she wanted, the one she needed.
Lauren shook her head. “I’m a mess. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know if I can say what I want,” she corrected. “I mean, from you.” Then, bravery flashed in her eyes. “Except I know I want you.”
Arielle made a snap decision. For now, even if it turned out to be for only one night, that was enough. In one smooth step, her hands slid up Lauren’s back, grabbing at the clasp of her bra, halfheartedly trying to unhook it before just yanking one strap down. If Lauren’s breasts had looked perfect in lingerie, they were freaking unbelievable without it. Arielle gasped at the feel of one, heavy in her hand, at the perfect hard bud of a nipple under her fingertips. Lauren arched her back, and Arielle bent her head, flicking her tongue against it, her lips circling and sucking and tasting.
The Broken Hearts' Society of Suite 17C Page 24
