by Jae
“Well, ma’am, it’s hand-knotted.”
“It’s lovely. I’m sure all of your rugs are, but…” Laleh lowered her voice so that he had to lean closer to hear her. “You see, I’m a waitress, so unfortunately, I’m on a budget here.” She gave him one of her warm, genuine smiles.
Jesus, she’s good. If she had looked at Hope with those large dark eyes and smiled at her like that, she likely would have given her the rug for free—and delivered it personally.
The salesman glanced around the store as if to make sure no other customer was within earshot. “I could give you a special discount. Four thousand five hundred for you.”
Laleh sighed. “I’d love to, but that’s still a bit too expensive for me.” She turned toward Hope. “Maybe one of the small, round rugs would do.”
“Wait,” the salesman said quickly. “How about four thousand?”
For a moment, a spark gleamed in Laleh’s eyes, and she looked at him like a lion staring at a cornered gazelle. “I could give you three thousand five hundred.”
He dabbed his sleeve over his brow. “Three thousand eight hundred. I really can’t go any lower than that.”
Laleh flicked her gaze over to Hope, who nodded, more enthusiastic about getting to witness Laleh’s bargaining skills than about getting a great price for the rug. “Throw in free delivery and you’ve got a deal.”
When they walked out of the store five minutes later, Hope was the proud owner of a Persian rug.
“Wow. Tell me again why you’re a waitress? You should have gone into business or politics!”
Laleh’s flinch was almost imperceptible, but Hope felt the sting through their link. She stopped in the middle of the mall and regarded her. “Did I say something wrong?”
“I guess I shouldn’t bother trying to deny it, should I?” Laleh asked with a small smile.
Hope shook her head. “I know something I said hurt you. What was it?”
“You kind of touched a sore spot.” Laleh lowered her gaze and studied the large shopping bags she was carrying. “My parents think I’m wasting my potential being a waitress. My brothers and pretty much all of my cousins have gone to college, and now they make a lot of money at their jobs.”
“But that’s not what’s important to you.” There was not a hint of doubt in Hope’s mind. She actually liked that about Laleh.
“No. I might not be able to afford a rug like the one you just bought, but I like my life the way it is. I’d like to one day take over the restaurant from my aunt, but that’s the extent of my ambitions.”
Not for the first time, Hope thought how lucky she was. What if she had been linked to some depressed person who hated her life, was never satisfied with what she had, and radiated only negative emotions? She didn’t even want to imagine how poisonous that would be.
“And your parents can’t accept that?” Instantly, her hackles rose. Didn’t they know how lucky they were to have a daughter like Laleh?
Laleh smiled.
“What?” Hope asked. Had she said something funny?
“You’re getting protective.”
“No, that’s not…” Hope snapped her mouth shut. Damn. Laleh was right. Now she was turning into someone’s knight in shining armor.
Laleh shifted her shopping bags to one side so she could lightly pat Hope’s arm. “Thank you. It feels good to have someone on my side. Don’t get me wrong. My parents mean well. They want me to have a good life, and they think a college education is the key to that.”
“It’s not,” Hope said. “I’ve got plenty of colleagues who wish they’d never gone to medical school.”
“But not you.”
“Not me.” Hope grinned, mostly to cheer Laleh up. “Well, maybe yesterday, when the ER stank to high heaven.”
The dark cloud lifted from Laleh’s mind. Her laughter drifted through the mall.
Hope nudged her with an elbow, a gesture she realized she’d adopted from Laleh. “Come on, Chief Haggler. Let’s go make my condo look less like an executive suite and more like an actual home.”
CHAPTER 15
Laleh stared at Hope, her beer raised halfway to her lips. “You haven’t watched When Harry Met Sally? Are you serious?”
Hope smiled at the indignation filtering through their link. She tossed a green M&M up into the air, caught it in her mouth, and crunched it noisily before saying, “Is that a crime?”
“It should be. Just like combining chocolate and beer.”
Hope took another M&M and suppressed a grin as Laleh took a handful too. “No one’s forcing you to eat my junk food.”
“I’ll forgive you for the chocolate-and-beer thing, but we’ll remedy the other crime right now.” Laleh stood, took one of the DVDs she’d brought, and carried it to Hope’s entertainment center.
Hope watched her cross the room, admiring the easy grace of her movements and marveling at how comfortable Laleh seemed to be in her condo. Well, she should be. Laleh had redecorated it during the past two weeks after all, hanging curtains, buying rugs and cushions, and adding other little homey touches.
Laleh settled back on the couch cross-legged and cradled the bowl of M&Ms in her lap.
Instead of each occupying one end of the sofa, as they had done in the beginning, they now sat in the middle. It wasn’t just so they could both reach the chocolate-covered peanuts, Hope admitted to herself. Laleh wasn’t the only one who’d grown comfortable.
While the emotional link between them still drove her crazy at times, making her feel like a claustrophobic stuck in a crowded elevator, she was no longer tempted to run from Laleh. At first, she’d searched her out for one reason only: to test their strange connection and find a way to make it stop. In the process, she had discovered that she liked spending time with her. Amazing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that way about someone. Even she and Jordan didn’t hang out that much, especially not lately, she realized with a flash of guilt. She’d spent most of her free time with Laleh, neglecting her other friends. Not that she’d had that many to start with.
Laleh turned her head and looked at her. “What are you thinking about right now?”
“Um, nothing.” Hope leaned over and took another M&M, just so she wouldn’t have to look at Laleh and explain what had been going through her mind. “I can’t believe I’m about to watch a sappy chick flick.”
Laleh bumped her with her shoulder, bringing their bodies into contact all along their lengths.
Hope inhaled deeply. Was this a new perfume, or had Laleh worn it all along and she just hadn’t noticed? Whatever it was, the scent made Hope want to buy stock in the company.
“It’s not sappy,” Laleh said. “It’s romantic.”
“Oh, you’re one of those.”
“Yeah.” Laleh shrugged unapologetically. “There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“Nothing at all.” It somehow fit Laleh. Hope leaned forward and reached for the remote control on the coffee table.
Her hand collided with Laleh’s, who had wanted to grab the device too. The brush of skin against skin sent a thrill through her body. She pulled back her hand, letting Laleh take the remote control. As the opening scene started to play, she propped her feet up on the coffee table.
An elderly couple told the story of how they had met.
They were cute, Hope had to admit. She glanced over at Laleh, whose eyes were already suspiciously shiny. Hope suppressed a smile. She’s cute too.
“Don’t laugh at me,” Laleh said. “I told you I’m a romantic.”
“I’m not laughing. See?” Hope pointed at the straight line of her mouth.
“You’re laughing inside.”
Hope couldn’t deny it, so she kept munching her M&Ms and said nothing.
Laleh professed to having seen the movie a thousand times already, but she still chuckled at all the funny scenes, and Hope found herself laughing along with her.
She had to admit the movie with its witty dialogue was
surprisingly good, but what she enjoyed most was the way Laleh immersed herself into the film.
A new scene started, showing the two main characters in a crowded diner in New York City.
“Ooh! This scene is famous…or should I say infamous?” Laleh put the bowl of M&Ms down on the coffee table, her whole attention on the TV now.
Hope took a handful of chocolate-covered peanuts and ate them one by one as she watched the characters argue about whether Harry would be able to tell if the woman he was with was faking an orgasm.
Suddenly, low moans and sighs of pleasure drifted through the surround-sound speakers.
Hope almost inhaled an M&M and started coughing.
Laleh reached over and patted her back. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. What the hell is she doing?”
“Teaching him a lesson.” Laleh smirked.
On the screen, Sally threw back her head and pounded the table with both fists while screaming out, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
“Some lesson,” Hope muttered into her beer and then took a large swig. I hope she got an Oscar for that performance! The heat in Hope’s cheeks traveled lower, and she had the sudden urge to turn up the air conditioning. Oh, come on. It’s not like it’s a hot sex scene. The actress was fully dressed, and Hope didn’t find her mop of blonde curls all that attractive. Lately, she found brunettes much more appealing. She was hyperaware of Laleh close beside her while she watched the pseudo-orgasm on the screen.
Finally, Sally sat back, smiled at the stunned Harry on the other side of the table, and took a forkful of her salad as if nothing had happened.
“Great scene, right?” Laleh commented.
Hope nodded and emptied her beer in one big gulp. Did Laleh sense what was going through her mind? If she was lucky, Laleh wouldn’t be able to identify this confused jumble of emotions.
They were silent for a few minutes, the movie playing on, showing the main characters dancing cheek to cheek.
“Have you ever done that?” Laleh asked after a while.
Hope glanced from the TV to her, trying not to notice the way Laleh licked chocolate off her fingers. “Danced with someone? Sure.”
“No. Pulled the I’ll-have-what-she’s-having routine.”
It took Hope a moment to figure out what she meant. The flush on Laleh’s cheeks and the mix of embarrassment and curiosity filtering through their link were big hints. “You’re asking me if I’ve ever faked an orgasm?”
Laleh looked away and scratched at the label on her beer bottle with her fingernail. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. That was too personal.”
“No, that’s all right. I don’t mind.” It was the truth, even though it did make her a little nervous. She’d never had a female friend to whom she was close enough to talk about these things. Well, Jordan wasn’t shy when it came to talking about sex, but that was different somehow. With Laleh, every conversation seemed more meaningful.
Still massacring the label on her beer bottle, Laleh peeked over at her. “So?”
“Once or twice,” Hope admitted with a shrug.
“Really?” Laleh blinked, and Hope realized how thick and long her lashes were.
“Why does that surprise you? I don’t remember the actual numbers, but I think studies showed that most women do at some point.”
“I don’t know.” Laleh peeled off more of the label. “I thought it might be different when it’s two women together.”
Hope flashed her a grin. “Don’t get me wrong; I think lesbian sex is great, but sometimes, you’re tired and you know it’s not going to happen.”
“Then why not tell your partner that?”
Good question. Hope rubbed her chin. “Because I want to go to sleep and not have a long discussion because she thinks I don’t love and desire her anymore. It’s just easier. Christ, that makes me sound selfish, doesn’t it?”
Laleh smiled. “A little.”
Hope had always accepted that she wasn’t the best girlfriend, but now it rankled her that Laleh thought so too. “I take it you haven’t? Faked an orgasm, I mean.”
“I don’t see the point. Why lie to someone who trusts you?”
Trust… So it all came down to that for Laleh. “Not all lies are bad, are they? If they keep your partner from getting her—or his—feelings hurt…”
“But if you’re in a loving long-term relationship and really get to know each other, don’t you think your partner will figure it out at some point? Wouldn’t that hurt much more than one honest conversation?”
Hope couldn’t argue against that. “Guess I never had that type of relationship.”
“But even if the relationship isn’t all that serious, if what you’re doing in the bedroom isn’t working for you, your partner should know, so he or she can change their…um…approach,” Laleh said with a hint of an adorable blush.
An unbidden image took shape in Hope’s mind: Laleh and a faceless partner in bed, figuring out the right approach to make her come.
Hope roughly shook her head to chase away the mental image and jumped up. She needed some distance—now. “I’m going to grab another beer,” she said over her shoulder, not turning to face Laleh. “Want one too?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
Yeah, but Hope wasn’t. She couldn’t have such thoughts about Laleh. With other women, these thoughts would stay private, so there was no harm in fantasizing a little, even about straight women. But if she didn’t get a grip on her emotions, Laleh would eventually figure out what was going on.
She wrenched open the refrigerator door and let the gust of cool air clear those images from her mind. With a jerky motion, she twisted the cap off the beer bottle and flung it in the direction of the trash can.
The golden cap missed by half a foot and bounced around the kitchen.
“Are you okay?” Laleh’s voice came from directly behind her.
Hope flinched. Beer bottles rattled as she smashed the fridge door closed and then turned around. “Yeah.”
Laleh stood in front of her, backlit by the soft glow from the television, and arched her dark eyebrows. “Want to try that again?”
Hope had already opened her mouth for another denial; now she snapped it closed. As much as she wanted to be honest with Laleh, she couldn’t. Not about this. “There’s just a lot on my mind, I guess.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
A wave of compassion from Laleh washed over Hope. “No, thanks. It’s something that I need to deal with on my own.” She’d get used to her attraction to Laleh the same way she’d gotten used to their link—it was still there, but she could ignore it most of the time.
“Just know that you can talk to me,” Laleh said. Her eyes, dark and warm, looked straight into Hope’s. “About everything. You don’t need to fake it with me.”
Great. Just when she’d chased those images from her mind, Laleh’s words brought them back. She really had to get a grip on this. “I know.” She rounded the kitchen island and marched back to the couch. “Come on. We’re missing the movie.”
“That’s the beauty of the rewind button.” Laleh plopped down on the couch next to her and reached for the remote control.
Hope took a pull of her beer. Unfortunately, life didn’t come with a rewind button. If Laleh sensed her attraction, there would be no way to take it back, so she’d have to keep a tight grip on herself.
CHAPTER 16
A few days later, Laleh was curled up on Hope’s couch after having successfully introduced Hope to her favorite postapocalyptic TV show. She glanced over at Hope, who was sprawled over her side of the sofa, her feet up on the middle cushion, lightly brushing Laleh’s, and her hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate.
Laleh had noticed that Hope wasn’t normally the type of person who could hang out on the couch for long. Her mind and her body seemed to be in constant motion. But when they were together, Laleh felt a calm spread through Hope, and she couldn’t help wondering if she was having t
his effect on her. After witnessing her struggle with their emotional connection, Laleh hoped their link could do some good and get her to relax a little.
“What?” Hope asked without looking away from the TV screen, where the closing credits were playing.
“Nothing.”
“I can feel you looking at me. No faking, remember?”
Oh yeah, Laleh remembered that conversation from last week only too well. She’d surprised herself—and obviously Hope too—when she’d asked such a personal question. At least she thought so. She still wasn’t sure how to interpret that interesting mix of emotions that had filtered through their link, but she’d thought about it repeatedly.
“I was just thinking that I like seeing you so relaxed,” she answered.
Hope grinned. The hint of a chocolate mustache on her upper lip made Laleh want to reach out and wipe it away. “Must be my newly decorated condo.”
Laleh glanced around at the splashes of color and soft materials she’d added throughout the apartment. “You know what? There’s still one thing missing.”
“Oh yeah?” Hope flicked off the TV. “What’s that, oh great interior decorator?”
“You”—Laleh pointed at her—“need a Christmas tree. If we move the couch all the way into the corner, it’ll fit over there.”
Hope vehemently shook her head. “I don’t do the tree thing. Ever.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t like them.”
Laleh nudged Hope’s toes with her own. “Oh, come on. Don’t be such a grinch. Who doesn’t like Christmas trees?”
Hope raised her hand. “Me. They’re impractical. Needles everywhere.”
“But they smell so good, and the lights look so pretty. Putting up a tree makes the season even more special.”
After flopping onto her side, Hope put her head in her hand and regarded Laleh with that intense gaze of hers. Her blue eyes made such a striking contrast to her dark brown hair that Laleh couldn’t help staring back any time Hope looked at her like this.
“Aren’t you a Muslim?” Hope asked. “Why would you be so eager to celebrate the birth of Christ?”
