I met with Hailey today." Jean spoke into her teacup from her seat on the couch.

"How did it go?" Millie sat next to Jean and placed a hand on the older woman's thigh. The inappropriateness of such a gesture occurred to Millie shortly after, causing her to move it to her own leg.

"She's upset." Jean placed her cup on the coffee table.

"You did the right thing. You couldn't lead her on."

Jean nodded, "She thinks you and I are together."

Millie scoffed, "But we're not." She maintained an affronted look despite her sick stomach. If Hailey could mistake them for a couple so could others. Millie's carelessness about displaying her feelings could put her and Jean in danger.

"I told her that. She said we're too close when we walk, sit, even stand. We link arms when we walk. She thinks we're hiding in plain sight." Jean spoke in her calm, direct way as though repeating Hailey's observations was the equivalent of explaining a cipher.

"Friends do those things." Millie raised her voice slightly.

"That's not all." Jean looked into Millie's eyes, "She said we kissed at the hotel. That I was kissing you." Jean pressed her lips together in thought, "I barely remember what happened. It's all a blur."

Millie remained quiet. She wasn't sure if Jean had kissed her. It had felt like it at the moment, but Jean was badly shaken and likely reacted without thinking. Millie had certainly kissed her, but she'd rather not delve into that conversation. "That's why she kept looking at us when I was putting the ointment on your wrist." She finally said.

"I suppose." Jean moved her gaze to her lap, "So I did kiss you?"

"I don't know. It all happened so quickly."

"But you did kiss me?"

Millie felt nauseous, her stomach aching and her pulse speeding up. Admitting it would cause Jean to ask why, a question Millie was unable to answer. There was not a plausible reason for her to have kissed Jean. She could say that the relief of rescuing Jean had made her act without thinking, but then she would have to explain why kissing her best friend was a reaction at all. Jean would surely hate her if she found out that Millie enjoyed the feel of their lips together. Worse, if she found out Millie was in love with her she may leave, breaking Millie's heart. However, she couldn't bring herself to lie to Jean. Unable to trust her words Millie simply nodded.

"Why have you been kissing me?" The words were released slowly.

"You're my best friend." Jean narrowed her eyes in either confusion or disbelief so Millie elaborated, "It feels natural." That was true. It was harder to resist kissing Jean than it was to do it.

Jean didn't acknowledge the answer. "Are you hungry?" She asked instead, standing to walk toward their small kitchen counter.

Millie let go of the breath she was holding. She responded that she wasn't, stating that work had been tiring and she was going to lay down. Truthfully, she worried she would faint from the surge of emotions her body just processed.

Sleep didn't come easy to Millie. Understanding her own thoughts was complicated but not nearly as much as understanding Jean's. The woman hadn't approved of Millie kissing her, but she hadn't told Millie to stop. Did that mean she enjoyed Millie kissing her, or was she simply too polite to say no? Perhaps it simply didn't bother her, accepting it as normal social procedures, truly believing Millie's best friend excuse. Millie doubted that Jean was so gullible, she was far too intelligent to not see straight through Millie's weak reasoning. It was far more probable that Jean wasn't sure what to make of Millie's behavior and was choosing to ignore it.

Millie was no longer able to deny that she loved Jean. However, that information was best kept to herself. Whispering it to Jean while she slept had not been wise. She could have heard, been outraged, and worse, she could have rejected Millie. Millie knew this, feared these consequences, and still wasn't able to successfully suppress her feelings.

Fretfully, Millie drifted to sleep until she was woken by Jean's light knock on the door, "Millie?"

Without opening her eyes, Millie mumbled for Jean to enter. She heard the door open followed by Jean's footsteps across the floor. Millie pulled the blankets back on the empty side of her bed, inviting the other woman to lay down.

"I'm sorry to bother you." Jean whispered as she lay next to Millie.

Millie rolled over to tuck her arm around Jean's waist, "You're never a bother." She may be conflicted about her feelings, and Jean's reception of her feelings, but she would never deny comforting Jean.

Millie felt Jean's lips press against her forehead. She kept her eyes closed, struggled to control her breathing, and felt her heart banging inside her chest. As her pulse returned to normal Millie felt the disappointment take over, certain that she was reading too much into the gesture. Undoubtedly, Jean was expressing nothing more than appreciation.

It took Millie nearly an hour to fall back asleep. In the morning she woke with her body partially draped over Jean's. Her face was against Jean's neck, her left leg thrown over Jean's thigh, and her right breast pressed against Jean's left. She could feel Jean's arm under her side, her hand pressed against Millie's lower back. Millie was tempted to stay in place, regardless of the consequences. The combination of desire, embarrassment, and fear forced her to finally move away. Careful to not wake Jean, she removed herself from the bed and prepared herself for another emotionally difficult day.