“Nope. I’ve done my part. Now, she’s all yours,” Charlotte said, busy skewering a piece of lettuce on her fork.
“Oh.” Aya stopped with the sandwich in the air. “Okay.”
Gwen leaned closer. “I promise I’ll keep my biting to a minimum.”
Aya only gave a quick nod, blushing. Gwen smiled at her, and Aya returned it, showing that sweet, little dimple.
There was a sudden soaring in Gwen’s chest.
Aya was tight-lipped as usual, but now Gwen understood. There was communication in that silence, true emotion that was shown with body language and looks. Not with words, which could be faked or be simple politeness. How had she not fully appreciated Aya’s silences before? She had thought she wanted someone who kept up constant conversation like she did. Now she saw the beauty of Aya’s expressive silences, of how she only said the words that mattered. It wasn’t something she’d ever adopt for herself, but in Aya, it was perfect.
Aya blinked, and affection flashed in her dark eyes. They still echoed the shy smile on her lips.
The soaring in Gwen’s chest grew.
Maybe Charlotte moving out wasn’t the end of the world after all. Maybe being all Aya’s could be kind of nice.
Chapter Forty
Hold Her. Kiss Her
Aya touched her damp hair as she took the last steps up to Gwen’s flat. She’d done a terrible job of drying it after training with Jenny. She’d hurried out of the changing room, as always far too eager to see Gwen.
She was let in and hugged before Gwen walked to the kitchen, saying, “Come on in. I’m just finishing up cleaning Meatloaf’s cage.”
Aya stopped in the hallway. “Okay, should I take my jacket off or are we going straight out?”
Today’s, or rather tonight’s, boost gift was a drive up to Mow Cop. Gwen had never seen the view from the castle ruins over most of Staffordshire and Cheshire. It was particularly pretty at night when the stars watched over the two counties and all was quiet.
There was a click of a cage door before Gwen came back into the hall. “I’m so sorry, but I’m exhausted. The cage cleaning and adjusting to all the changes lately have knackered me. I’m not back to my normal energy levels, so helping Charlotte move, even though I didn’t do as much as she and you did, combined with the stress over the sick-leave paperwork…” She trailed off.
Aya immediately took her jacket off and hung it up. “Say no more. A night in, it is.”
Gwen held a hand to her chest and chewed her lower lip, like a child worried about being in trouble. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to get bored with me not being able to do much.”
“Treasure, I could never get bored with you.”
Gwen knitted her brows. “Treasure?”
“What?” Aya said defensively.
“Nothing,” Gwen said, her tone warm. “I just like that you called me treasure. It’s cute.”
Aya couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this much like a right pillock. “Well, I mean, you’re very precious, right? I think so. I mean, you are. So, it’s not strange to call you that. I think.”
Stop babbling, Lawson.
Gwen leaned against the wall, a smile tugging on lips that were no longer pale or parched. “You can call me anything you like, sweetheart. Anyway, let’s change the topic to something that makes you more comfortable: boxing. Since we’re going to be in, would you fancy doing a bit more practice with me?”
“I’d love to!”
“Wonderful.”
The smile on Gwen’s lips grew and now reached those expressive eyes. How had Gwen described their colour? Sapphire blue. Yes, that made sense, sparkling sapphires. Mesmerised, Aya moved towards her, drawn to the sweet woman in front of her like a moth to a flame. What was she doing? What did she want to do when she reached Gwen? The answer came as a bolt from a clear sky. She wanted to hold her. To kiss her. To touch those rosy lips to her own.
Aya stopped dead. What the hell was she doing? Why was she lusting after a friend? One who was in recovery and needed support, especially now that Charlotte was gone? Gwen needed her. There was no way she was taking advantage of that. Aya buried any lust or attraction down deep and said, “Right, we shouldn’t stand about, then. Let’s get boxing.”
Chapter Forty-One
Action
The next morning Gwen woke up to her whole body feeling different. A pleasant heat and humming coursed through her. She soon remembered why. She’d been having a wet dream! For the first time in months, she was aroused. She laughed with relief at that her body and mind were reconnecting. Life thrummed through her again in the shape of all of the emotions, and now she could add lust to that list. In fact, it was thrumming between her legs very nicely right this moment.
She slid her hand down her stomach and into her damp curls while trying to remember the dream. There had been a woman, seated with her in an otherwise empty train carriage. She couldn’t quite remember what the train, or the woman, looked like. She winced. It hadn’t been Susannah, had it? After all, Susannah had been the focus of Gwen’s erotic dreams over the past year.
No, there hadn’t been that sensation of a distant crush and an unreachable goddess. This dream was based in real emotion. A real connection. Just as much lust and passion as in the Susannah dreams, but so much more potent.
Gwen focused on that feeling, closed her eyes, and let her hand between her thighs do the rest. She was out of practise, meaning she had to keep fighting thoughts that wanted to pop up and interrupt the action. Her mind circled around how ridiculous it was that she’d thought it was Susannah in her dream. Everything surrounding Susannah had been a faint echo of real emotions. Even the pick-me-ups that she’d gotten from seeing Susannah paled compared to, for example, the ones she got with Aya.
Everything was better with Aya. She was the perfect friend. The perfect woman. Strong in body, spirit, mind, and heart. Honest, kind, interesting, and so damn sexy with that enticing dimple. Not to mention those steady hands with thick veins that ran up trim wrists. Or that long, shiny, soft, midnight-black hair. That sharp jawline. That smooth skin. That muscular but lean build, with sculpted pecs showcasing soft breasts, and the waist tapering into solid hips and a buff bum. Aya could’ve been sculpted out of clay by a particularly good artist. Her body wasn’t just aesthetically pleasing; it was primed for action. The raw power in that body was balanced with such tender movements. Tender like when she touched Gwen.
Gwen’s eyes snapped open just as she realised two things. One: that she’d been taking note of Aya’s body more than she had realised. Two: that she was nearing orgasm while thinking about Aya. Worse, it was thinking about Aya that was bringing her close to the edge. She gasped with realisation, and then gasped even louder as her climax erased all thought.
Chapter Forty-Two
Only One Slight Touch
That night Aya warmed up with some jumping jacks and windmills and watched Gwen mimic her movements. Her hostess had wanted more boxing practise, and Aya wasn’t going to argue. It was nice to show her expertise and coach a student, without the pressure and seriousness that prepping Jenny for a professional boxing career involved. Not to mention that being in Gwen’s company was her favourite thing these days. It was like coming home.
Aya did one last windmill and motioned for Gwen to stop. “Okay. We’re warmed up. Get in the ready position, and we’ll work on your offence first. I think you’re okay with hooks, so let’s focus on jabs, uppercuts, and cross punches.”
Gwen pouted. “I can’t just keep doing hooks?”
Aya shook her head with a chuckle. “No. Why did you zero in on that particular punch anyway?”
“Because it had a fun name, I guess? I liked the pirate connotation.”
Aya put her hand over her eyes, chuckling again. “Well, you’re doing this for fun and exercise, so you can stick to any punch you want, but only doing hooks will get dull pretty quick.”
“Fine. We’ll do some jobs, upper crusts, and cross stitch
.”
“Stop taking the mick,” Aya exclaimed, almost able to hide her smile. “We’ll start with jabs.”
Gwen adjusted the straps of her red tank top and moved her feet into position, Aya standing next to her. They went through the checklist of forming the correct stance for jabs.
“Ready,” Gwen called in triumph. “Time to jab it up!”
“Almost. You need to pull your right shoulder back and move the left one forward more. That way your body becomes a narrower target for your opponent.”
Aya demonstrated the proper positioning and waited while Gwen drew her gaze over her body.
“Got it. Like this,” Gwen said, casting her left elbow out to the side.
“No, that’s too much. Also, your right one has to be tight by your side. But not glued to your ribs—you still have to be able to move it at a moment’s notice.”
“Okay,” Gwen said, unsure. She tried to correct the posture and almost ended up where she’d started.
“No, it’s too much in the other direction now, treasure. Hang on, I’ll show you.”
She stood right behind Gwen and took a gentle hold of her elbows, placing them correctly. Gwen swayed a little but then solidified into the pose. She smelled of that vanilla shampoo of hers. She must’ve showered just before Aya arrived.
Aya let go of her elbows but didn’t move away. While she was there, she might as well make some more corrections. After all, how was Gwen going to be able to swing properly if her stance wasn’t solid?
“You need to soften your knees more for stability.”
Gwen bent more at the knees, making her closer to Aya’s height. Gwen’s bum brushed Aya’s pelvis as she crouched down. Aya distracted herself from the sensation by leaning her head over Gwen’s shoulder to check that she was still keeping her chin down. She had a tendency to lift it, exposing it to blows.
When Aya peered over Gwen’s shoulder and down her front like this, she noticed that the vanilla scent wasn’t coming only from her hair but from her chest and neck, too. Soap? Lotion? Perfume? Aya hurled the thoughts away. She couldn’t let herself think about what had touched Gwen’s naked body. She had to focus! What the hell had she been doing? Oh right, correcting posture.
“Good! Try to balance your weight in the centre of your body,” Aya said, still looking down from the shoulder to see all of Gwen’s front and check that she obeyed.
Bloody hell. That tank top really doesn’t cover much.
It didn’t help that Gwen was breathing hard and fast. The quick movements of her chest kept drawing Aya’s attention against her will.
Aya cleared her throat. “Great. Now keep your eyes ahead, on the target of your jab.”
Gwen moved her head forward.
“No, shug, not your entire face. You need to keep your chin down, remember? Just set your gaze.”
Gwen shifted, bringing their bodies closer but also edging out of the proper stance. “Sorry. I’m getting a bit nervous all of a sudden.”
“I can tell. Your left elbow is in the wrong place again.”
Aya grasped the offending elbow to return it to where she wanted it. This time, though, she was so much more aware of Gwen’s heated skin. Her fingertips couldn’t help but brush the rose-petal softness of the sensitive inside of Gwen’s forearm.
It was only a second of caressing, nothing as long-lasting or as intimate as their hugs or when Aya washed Gwen’s hair, but it was enough. Somehow, that little touch stood out like a bright red rose in a field of dull snowdrops. They moved apart as if they’d both been electrified. Gwen turned and they stared at each other. Aya searched those wide, blue eyes, trying to figure out if Gwen had sprung away because she was shocked or offended.
Her stomach ached. Was it too much to hope that Gwen hadn’t noticed the touch going from platonic boxing corrections to something more intimate? It had only been a moment after all, the tiniest fragment of time. One slight touch.
Gwen smiled bashfully, then scratched the back of her neck as she mumbled, “That tickled. Sorry for jumping away.”
She wasn’t sure if it had tickled or if Gwen was politely making up an excuse. She wanted to kick herself. Not only was Gwen her friend—and vulnerable during her recovery—she was also her student right now. It was morally wrong to caress someone while you were doing manual corrections. Sure, Gwen was so physically affectionate that they touched each other more than Aya remembered from her other few friendships in life. This touch, however, had been different. So wonderful, but so dangerous.
She tried to calm down. Gwen looked fine. In fact, she appeared to be back to normal. She had picked up the glass of water off the coffee table and smiled at Aya between sips.
How can she be so carefree when my world just got upended by... A. Single. Damn. Touch?!
Gwen tilted her head. “You okay? Want some water?” She held out the glass.
“Y-yes, please.” Aya moved closer, as carefully as if she were nearing a dangerous animal. She took the glass and drank.
Gwen was still smiling. She snagged her lower lip with her teeth and watched Aya through her lashes. They were darker today, she realised. Was she wearing mascara? How had Aya not noticed before?
Aya drank some more water, buying time while trying to figure what to do and say next.
Gwen was still giving her that doe-eyed expression and biting that lower lip. Was she suddenly shy? Uncomfortable? Or could that be… some sort of subtle flirtation?
All of this was too confusing for Aya. Normally she’d ask Gwen to interpret the situation for her, but as Gwen was the bloody situation, that idea was off.
Silence poured into every inch of the room. How long had they been staring at each other? Aya noticed that the glass was empty and put it down.
Gwen’s throat bobbed as if she had swallowed something big. “So, now what?”
Aya shifted her footing. “Um. I don’t know. We might want to call it a night?”
“Yes! Good thinking. We should do that because…” She trailed off as if she’d lost the rest of her sentence.
“Because we…” Aya tried to help, but her brain wasn’t giving her a single excuse as to why they should separate. She’d only arrived about fifteen minutes ago.
“Because, um…” Gwen gallantly tried again.
They weren’t keeping eye contact anymore. In fact, they’d both become fascinated by their feet. Or maybe the floor. It was a nice carpet after all.
Aya’s stomach clenched again.
Say something! Even if it’s one of those old pick-up lines you memorised. Just anything! Act the tough butch that you’re supposed to be and fix the situation.
“Because I have a cramp in my left leg!” Gwen blurted out. It would have been more convincing if she hadn’t rubbed her right leg as she said it. She spotted Aya watching the leg being rubbed and shouted, “I meant right leg!”
“Oh, no. That’s bad,” Aya answered feebly.
The situation would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so bloody mortifying.
Aya edged her way towards the hallway. “Yeah, so, uh, cramps are the worst! Um, make sure to eat something salty and drink some water. Oh, and do the stretches I’ve shown you!”
“Yes, that might help,” Gwen said.
“Yep. That’ll do it,” Aya needlessly agreed as she kept moving towards the much-desired door to freedom.
When she was out in the hallway, she grabbed her jacket without pausing to put it on and shouted, “See you tomorrow.”
“Sure, see you tomorrow,” Gwen called from the lounge.
Aya slammed the door and ran down the stairs. Gwen always came to the door to see her off. Was she staying in character and pretending to have a cramp? Was it a symptom of the shyness/discomfort/weird flirting from before? Or was Gwen offended by the fingertip brush? Aya had no clue. She nearly missed one of the steps in her hurry and decided to take the lift the rest of the way. She could use the time to try to get her head screwed back on.
* * *
Aya stayed unsteady in mind and body for the next couple of hours. She walked around in a daze, half of the time daydreaming about rose-petal soft skin, the other half, worrying a hole in her gut over having upset Gwen. It was a damn good thing that she wasn’t meant to be in the gym tonight.
She was making an evening coffee for herself and her dad when her phone beeped. She quickly put the mugs down and checked the phone, heart pounding. Yes. It was a text from Gwen.
Hi. Sorry that it all got a bit abrupt earlier. I had a great time and I think I’m learning a lot. Could we try again? It doesn’t have to be right now, of course. Unless you want to? I know you’re free tonight but maybe you don’t want to see me right now? I’d totally get that. xx
Aya didn’t have to think. She shouted to her dad, “You’ll have to make your own coffee. I’m going to Gwen’s.” Then she picked up her keys and ran to the jeep.
* * *
When Gwen opened the door, she was still dressed in that damn, skimpy, rose-red tank top and black leggings. Aya brushed down her hoodie, wishing she would’ve changed into something more flattering.
Gwen stood aside to let her in, saying, “Guess what!”
“What?” Aya asked. She was about to hang her jacket before she remembered that in her haste, she hadn’t put it on. No wonder she was cold.
“I ’ve been drawing some more since you left. I don’t know why, but I was really inspired. And best of all, I just got a commission from a writer that I really admire!”
“Oh, cool,” Aya said, following Gwen into the kitchen.
“It really is. I’ve been a fan of hers for ages. We’re connected on both Twitter and Tumblr, but I never expected her to hire me to draw one of her characters.”
“That’s brilliant! You’ll have to show me who she is later. For now,” Aya licked her lips, nervousness shooting through her, “did you want to do some more training?”
Pining & Loving Page 21
