CELEBRATE MY BIRTHDAY IN EUROPE
Try not to vomit on my Birthday
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"So, she got a text and then scurried off, no explanation?"
I nod. Rosé and I are curled up on the couch chatting while watching BBC because it's in English. She was out late last night at some blogger gathering and slept in this morning. I spent my day resting after the hike up the tower, my very own Everest.
This is the first time I'm getting to talk to her. She cups her coffee mug in her hands. Although she hasn't gotten much sleep, she still manages to look fresh, cute in her yoga pants and sweatshirt that says c'est la vie. How does she do it?
"Her attitude totally changed, too." I sip my tea as I glance out the windows. It's getting dark. Another day gone. It's going by too fast. And the harder I try to cling to it, the quicker it seems to fade. The thought of returning home and to reality depresses me. "She was so flirty, and then…cold. Gone. No real explanation. I don't want a relationship. I mean…I live across the ocean, and I'm going…"
The words almost slip out. I'm going to die.
"I'm going to leave soon. I just want a fling."
She laughs.
I cringe. "Does that make me sound horrible?"
"Not at all." She sighs. "I'm sorry to say it, but she probably has a girlfriend."
I sink into my corner of the couch, cozy in my worn Florida sweatshirt and sweatpants. My go-to comfortable hospital outfit. I don't know why I don't throw it out. It's just a reminder. But maybe deep down, I need that kick in the butt, a nudge that my time is limited. Or maybe I just want the comfort of the familiar. "That's what I feared."
"Sorry."
A cool breeze sweeps in through the open window, stirring the curtains like flapping birds. "Better to know, right? I want a fling, but I'm not about to sleep with some girl who has a girlfriend. I'm not taking that with me."
"Exactly. Don't need bad karma." She takes a drink. Her hair is pulled up into a bun atop her head, while little baby curls frame her heart-shaped face. "Besides, there are so many another gp girl or hot guys here. I'll totally hook you up with one!"
I smile. There isn't time to waste. If I want to lose my virginity, I have to find someone soon. But thinking of hooking up with a guy just isn't appealing at the moment. Only god knows why, but I really liked Lisa. Stupid me. "Okay."
She launches into a description of the guys she knows in the area. Even though I'm bummed about Lisa, I can't help but smile at the possibilities. The murmur of city life seeps in through the open windows. I love it here. Even love sharing this apartment with Rosé, a woman I just met. She's sweet, kind, and I wish we could be friends.
"And then there's Charlie, from England. You like an English accent, right? Stupid question, who doesn't. He's like a twenty-five year old Idris Elba and…"
The door buzzes, startling us both.
Rosé shakes her head. "Not for me."
It buzzes again. Who the hell would be visiting? Maybe Mom had something delivered for my birthday. But it's too late for deliveries. I set my tea cup on the coffee table and head to the door. Maybe Nayeon finally had enough of her French guy. I push the intercom button. "Hello?"
"Jennie?"
It takes a moment for me to recognize her voice. Or maybe I'm just so shocked that it doesn't register right away. "Lisa?"
I jerk my gaze toward Rosé who is watching with wide-eyed interest. She has nothing to offer. It's obvious she's just as surprised as I am. I return my attention to the intercom, my heart hammering so hard that at first it's difficult to speak. "How did you know where I live?"
"You told me…at the tower?"
"Oh, right."
Rosé lifts her brows suggestively, grinning. She's enjoying this way too much. I've become the night's entertainment.
"Do you have plans this evening?" Lisa asks.
"Umm…" Frantic, I look at Rosé. She merely shrugs. Do I? "No. Not really."
"Well, that's just sad. It's your birthday after all."
Rosé is suddenly at my side. "Your birthday?" she whispers. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She remembered. Despite the fact that I'm annoyed with her for running off so early on our date, a slow smile lifts my lips. She remembers that it's my birthday.
"Be down here in ten," she says. "I'll be waiting."
"But…" the buzzer is dead. She's gone. I race to the window and see her sitting on a bench. A tiny part of me wants to ignore her after the way she treated me the other day. Most of me wants to go out, live a little. See that crooked smile. Feel her hands on my hips. Her lips on mine just once more…
"You are totally going," Rosé says for me. Despite my noncommittal murmur of denial, she grabs my hand and pulls me away from the windows. "It's your birthday!"
She has a point.
"But…" She drags me toward my room. "Rosé, she has a girlfriend."
"We don't know for sure. Ask her tonight. If she does, then just be friends."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Yeah, right, just friends. She's opening my backpack, tossing aside a t-shirt, a pair of jeans…
Dare I go out with Lisa? I tear my sweatshirt over my head. "Yeah, because so many guys just want to be friends. Besides, I don't have anything to wear. One dress, but it's too boring."
"Okay." She grabs my hand and pulls me out the door and into her room. "Then you'll wear something of mine."
I give her a look. "Are you joking? You have curves while I…am me."
But she's ignoring me, searching through the closet where she's hung all of her fashionable clothes, while my lumps of unfashionable outfits remain stuffed in my backpack and on the floor.
"Rosé, you really don't have to—"
"Yes. This!"
When she pulls out a tight, slinky red dress I almost laugh, thinking she's joking. "I can't. That is so out of my sexy league."
It's way, way more revealing than anything I've ever worn. I feel slightly embarrassed just looking at it. Yet…yet…, a little voice whispers inside my head, I swore I would regret nothing. Swore I would not care. I would live this month to the fullest, leap out of my comfort zone.
"Don't be ridiculous." She pulls it off the hanger. "You can, and will wear it."
Dare I? I hesitate only a second, then kick off my sweats. "Fine. I'm in."
I'm wearing pretty lacey black underwear and matching bra. She grins in approval. It was the first thing I did when I decided to go on my trip…buy adult lingerie. It seemed silly at the time. Now, I'm glad I went shopping.
However, I'm determined not to sleep with Lisa if she has a girlfriend. At least that's what I keep telling myself. Will I actually be able to resist her? I step into the dress and pull it up my body. If the material wasn't stretchy it wouldn't fit. As it is, the material clings to me like a glove. I feel awkward, but then I've spent most of my teenage years in hospital gowns and sweats.
"I'm not used to being sexy."
"Well, girl, you need to get used to it, because you are looking hot." She reaches for her makeup bag. "Just need a bit of color."
I hold still as she sweeps a touch of blush to my cheeks and lids. She knows what she's doing. I gave up on makeup years ago. I was too exhausted to care. There's so much I don't know and it never mattered before because I wasn't going to be on this earth long enough. Now I wish I'd paid more attention to life. Wished I knew how to dress, how to do makeup, how to fix my hair. How to flirt.
"Gorgeous!" Rosé says, clapping her hands in delight.
With a quick glance at my phone, I realize I have three minutes. Not that I'm in a hurry to see her… Okay, I admit, I'm frantic to see her. And I'm wishing so very hard that she doesn't have a girlfriend because I know, I know I'm going to be so very disappointed.
Rosé fluffs up my hair, using some sort of spray to give it volume, and throws a small, black purse at me. "I'd die for your hair color."
I shove my phone into the purse. She's not finished and grabs a bottle of perfume, spritzing me. I smell of vanilla and summer. I don't move as she creates her masterpiece, but I can't ignore the warmth of affection seeping through me. We met only a few days ago and already I feel as if I've known her forever. Unable to stop myself, I reach out and draw her in for a quick hug. My wall is crumbling, piece by piece, whether I want it to or not. I can no longer keep it contained. I'm not sure if I want to.
"Thank you," I whisper.
She hugs me back as if it's normal to show affection. She has no idea that it's been a long, long time since I've allowed myself to care. "Of course!"
I ignore the tears stinging my eyes, ignore the voice warning not to get close, and when I pull back, I keep her hand in mine. "Come with me, that way if she has a girlfriend we can still go out and have fun, you and I."
"Yeah?"
"Yes. You can't say no…it's my birthday."
She's grinning as she races to her closet. "I'll be down in a second."
Relieved, I run to my room and grab my black ballet flats. As I glance in the small mirror on my wall, I pause, startled. It takes a brief moment for me to recognize the reflection. It's me…but for the first time in a long while I don't look ill. I look like any other young woman, with a flush of excitement brightening my cheeks and eyes.
Disconcerted, I leave the apartment and make my way down the steps. Outside, the temperature is crisp, the scent of rain still hangs in the air from the downpour earlier. I find Lisa immediately. In the distance music plays, a hard rock song that screams from an open window. Lisa stands when she spots me. I don't miss the way her gaze slowly scans my body as I start toward her, and I'm so grateful Rosé forced me to wear the dress. I could forgive Lisa almost anything for that smile.
"Hello," I say.
She leans forward. I assume she's going to kiss my cheek, so I'm not prepared when she doesn't. Her lips mold to mine, her hand coming up to slide through my hair and cup the back of my head. When I feel the sweep of her tongue against my lips, I part them with a sigh. And I know I should be making sure she doesn't have a girlfriend first, but I can't seem to think rationally when she touches me.
My knees go weak. I hadn't imagined how well she kissed. Hadn't imagined how quickly my body reacted. Slowly, my hands creep up her chest, around her neck, as I sink into her. She groans, a puff of air escaping her lips. I want to breathe her in. I want to draw my hands down every inch of her hard body and know her. Truly know her.
She tears her mouth from mine. Both of us are panting. "There's a club not far from here. You like to dance?"
My mind is still muddled from her kiss, my heart hammering so loudly I barely hear her. Dance? She wants to dance? I have other ideas, but those are more R-rated. "Dance at a club?"
She pulls back and nods. Considering I've never been to a club, I'm not positive I'll like it. But this month is all about trying new things. "Sure. Mind if my roommate comes along?"
"Not at all."
I can see Rosé skipping down the steps. Lisa leans close, whispered words meant just for me. "You look incredible."
I blush. She looks pretty amazing herself. She's wearing a fitted short sleeve button down shirt and dark jeans.
"Hello, lovely people," Rosé says. She practically sparkles in her silver crop top, jeans and black boots, an outfit I wish I was confident enough to pull off. "Let's have some fun!"
We start down the sidewalk. Even though it's late, there are still a lot of locals wandering the city, while the tourists are tucked away safely in their hotel beds. Rosé and Lisa are discussing the unusually hot weather, as well as their favorite local places to eat and visit. I listen with half an ear, trying to take everything in at once. To memorize every detail of this night.
"Where are we going?" Rosé finally asks. "Are we meeting up with anyone, Lisa? Your friends, perhaps?"
She's digging for the truth. I give her a pointed glance. She raises her brows and gives me a look back. She's right…I need to find out if Lisa's got a girlfriend. I just wasn't expecting to do it here, now. Ignorance is bliss, right?
"Going to meet some of my friends from the university."
"Great," she says for the both of us.
I'm meeting her friends? I try not to read anything into it, but can't help but be nervous. We turn down a street. As if sensing my unease, Lisa's hand wraps around mine. "I want to apologize again for leaving the other day."
How badly I want to ask her why she fled. Ask about the redhead I saw pop up on her phone. But it's not my business…is it? No. We aren't dating. We never will. Just a fling, I remind myself. This is just a vacation fling. "It's fine."
"Gotta make a call, you two go ahead," Rosé says as she falls back.
She's overheard. I know she's making an excuse and I'm grateful for it. Perfect time for me to ask about Lisa's relationship status. It's not something I want to discuss, but it's a must. I won't have my first time having sex, possibly only time, tarnished by cheating.
Lisa squeezes my fingers. "Pretty pathetic excuse for a date though, and I am determined to make it up to you."
Date? So she did consider it a date. It wasn't just me and my overactive imagination. I can hear Rosé talking on her phone behind us.
"Lisa." We pause at a street light. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
Her brows draw slightly together. "No."
I study her face. Looking for signs of the truth. Yes, I've become great at lying since my illness, but I've also become great at reading others. It's crazy how much people fib, and usually I can spot the lie. It takes an expert, after all.
You're going to be okay.
You look great! You don't look sickly at all.
You're young, you're strong, you'll beat this.
I've heard it all plenty of times.
"I swear, Jennie. I don't."
And maybe lust is clouding my judgement, but I believe her. My relief is immediate. "Okay. Just making sure." I pause for an awkward minute. Rosé is catching up to us. Time to change the subject. "Dancing is always a good date."
Oh god, what an idiotic thing to say. Not like I'd really know a good date anyway, but I want to say something to make up for the weirdness between us, since I pretty much accused her of cheating. Lisa's watching me with amusement in her gaze, as if she knows exactly what's been going through my mind.
"No. This isn't a date. There are too many people involved. When we go on a date it will be just me and you." Her comment makes me warm and achy and excited all at once. The light changes and we start across the street. "Wednesday…feel like taking a train ride somewhere? Not far. Just outside of Copenhagen."
I bite my lower lip to keep from grinning like a fool. So, I haven't scared her off yet. "I'd say I'm interested."
She smiles. "Good."
Rosé catches up to us. "Ohhh, I know this club! It's great."
I can hear music thumping from the open doors ahead. There's a giant of a blond bouncer judging those in line, and for a moment I worry we'll be rejected. But he nods at Lisa like they know each other, and we sweep inside with ease.
All of my senses are assaulted at once. It smells of perfume and cologne and alcohol. Loud techno music thumps from the DJ booth at the far end of the room. A crowd of people jump, dance, and spin before the booth, letting go of their inhibitions. Lights pulse, making the room flash. The world around me spins. Everything feels slightly off balance. I hate how my body over-reacts.
Lisa's arm slides around my waist, offering comfort and stability. "You don't mind meeting up with some of my friends?"
Just a fling. It's supposed to be just a fling. I force myself to smile. But I feel so out of my element, it's like I'm putting on a play. "Sure, I'd love to meet them."
We move down the steps and start toward a booth in the far corner. While we walk like normal people, Rosé dances her way toward the table. I wish I could be as free as she seems. Maybe she can give me lessons. "So, who are we meeting?"
"Just friends from the university. You'll like them."
Her hand rests possessively on my lower back. I can feel the burn of her palm through my dress. It flusters and excites me. By the time we reach the table where a guy and two women are seated, I feel afire. Lisa reaches over to shake hands with the guy who looks close to our age.
"You know," one of the women is saying in an adorable Scottish accent. "It's like when you're so exhausted you don't remember if you've taken out your tampon, or if its trapped in the nether regions of your vagina, never to be seen again? So then you spend like the next hour terrified you're going to get toxic shock syndrome? Until…" She spots me. "Oh, hello. Who are you?"
The woman with dark hair who sits next to her is holding her stomach, she's laughing so hard. She falls over in the booth, her giggles coming out in unladylike guffaws. I'm grinning too. I like people who are open, fun. I don't have time for games.
"Don't mind her," the laughing woman manages. "She's drunk."
"You two are amazing," Rosé says. "I think we're going to be friends."
"Oh good!" The woman telling the tampon story stumbles to her feet. She has a plethora of red, curly hair and reminds me of Merida from Brave. "Let's dance, new friend."
They grab each other's hands and dart around the table. Oh, how I wish I could be that much of an extrovert. They don't even need to be on the dance floor. They're laughing, twirling each other around and around, and I can't help but grin as they bump into the table.
"This is Jennie," Lisa says. "My…friend."
Friend? I'm not angry, more amused. She glances at me, apparently as confused as I am about our relationship status. I was going to say soon-to-be Fuck Buddy, but you know, friend works too.
"Nice to meet you," the other woman smiles, holding out her hand.
"You're adorable, Jennie," Merida says as she twirls Rosé. "Like a bleedin porcelain doll. Well done, Lisa."
Ugh. There it is…doll. Before the illness no one called me a doll. I was taller than most in elementary school. People even made fun of my height. But not now. Now I'm average height when I was supposed to be above.
"Drinks anyone?" Lisa's hand is on my lower back, proclaiming to all that I'm not quite just a friend. "We're celebrating Jennie's twentieth birthday."
"Oh good," Merida says, pressing her hand to her chest in dramatic relief. "Thought she was sixteen. Was a bit worried I was going to have to do an intervention."
Lisa just shakes her head in exasperation as she leaves, the only guy in the group going with her. But I don't miss the wink Lisa's friend gives me as he walks by. The grin says he knows as well as I that Lisa and I are more than friends.
The woman with dark brown hair that hangs in a long, shiny curtain around her oval face pats the seat next to her. She has the darkest, most beautiful gaze, but there are smudges of exhaustion underneath her eyes that tells me there's more to her story. "I'm Joy Morales."
I settle next to her. "You're American?"
She nods. "From California. This weirdo is Jeon Somi from Scotland."
She grins, her brilliant red hair stands out in the dimly lit room. She's like sunshine at night. And it's not just her looks, but her very personality. I want to be like Somi as she twirls around and around with abandonment. I want to be like Rosé who is so fashionable and excited about life.
Joy leans closer, her scent of cinnamon comforting and exotic. "Ben is the guy who went with Lisa to get drinks. He's from France."
"Do you all go to school here?" I ask as I settle on the bench beside her. "With Lisa?"
Joy shakes her head. "Not me. But they do. I'm taking a year off."
At least I'm not the only one lagging behind.
"It's how we all know each other," Somi explains, sliding into the booth. "We're all students from other countries. We were forced to go to some social event last year and ended up at the same table."
"So, how did you meet Lisa?" Joy asks.
Rosé laughs as she settles next to me. She knows the story. "Oh, do tell them."
"Well, it's very romantic…" A new song comes on. Apparently it's something popular as people cheer. The base is pounding. I try to ignore the anxiety crawling up my spine, the thump of my head that seems to increase with each beat. It's loud. Too loud. I force my lips to keep a smile. "I needed to use the toilet and she gave me the five kroner."
"That is romantic." Somi laughs. "Cheers to having to pee!"
Rosé claps and yells in delight. God, I so badly want to switch places with one of them. Just for a night, I want to be free and fun and happy. But as I glance around the table, listening to Rosé and Somi chat, my gaze keeps wandering to Joy.
She's the one I'm drawn to the most. Joy with the sad, dark eyes. She catches me watching her and smiles. I smile back, wondering about her story. She has one. Everyone has one. Some are comedies. Some romances. Others dramas. Some are all at once. Somi and Rosé live in a romantic comedy. Mine is a drama. So is Joy's. Oddly enough, I'm not sure about Lisa's story.
"Normally I would tell you to stay far, far away from Scandinavian guys," Somi says. "They're weird."
Joy shakes her head and rolls her eyes, looking amused and exasperated.
"What? I'm serious! There's no romance. They don't even hold the fucking door open for you! It's like hey, nice to meet you, want to have sex?"
Perfect for me.
Joy is grinning. "A Danish guy just dumped her."
"No!" She points at Joy, and I realize Joy wasn't joking, she's already half drunk. Probably was before she got here. "I dumped him after he cheated."
"Here we go, something for everyone." Lisa and Ben are back, a variety of drinks in hand. They pass out the glasses. I get something in a fancy flute that's pink, the rim covered in sugar. Besides the occasional sip of my mom's margarita, I've never had my own drink. Just for me. I savor it, like I savor every moment of this trip.
"And Scandinavian guys cheat," Somi adds. "They're almost as bad as French men. Worse, because they act all feminist."
"Oh dear," Ben sighs. "Please ignore her. She's drunk."
I'm still grinning, even as I wonder if anything she says is true. I slide Lisa a glance. She seems completely unperturbed by her comment. But it doesn't really matter if Lisa's cheated on every one of her girlfriends, because this is only supposed to be a one-night stand.
"Pretty drink." I lift the cup and tap it against Lisa's then take a sip. I can taste the alcohol. I've never cared much for the taste of alcohol but tonight I'm going to drink this one drink, and tonight I'm going to party like I'm twenty and healthy. Lisa sits beside me as Rosé moves away to speak with Ben.
"Good?" Lisa asks.
I nod, smiling up at her. Under the table, Lisa's hand rests on my bare knee. A tingle of awareness races up my thighs. Is it hot? It seems warm. Really warm. I have to resist the urge to shift. How can a simple touch, a simple glance, stir up so much within me?
Somi is sipping something green. "You must be special for Lisa to buy drinks in house."
Lisa's thumb is brushing the inside of my thigh, making it hard for me to concentrate on anything but her. She has no idea how she's affecting me. Or maybe she does. I laugh, a shaky breath. "Why is that?"
"You see, everything is so damn expensive here," Joy explains. "That most people drink before coming to the club."
"Not tonight," Lisa says, lifting her beer. "It's on me. So drink up. As many as you can handle."
"Woohoo!" Somi shouts, lifting her drink and chugging it. I hope someone is going to watch out for her, make sure she gets a cab home.
"Straight clubs are so boring!" Ben yells over the music. He's tall and thin, with a long, narrow nose, but his Frenchness oozes from him, making him appear more handsome than he actually is. "Just a bunch of drunks. I go to your silly straight clubs all the time. Come with me down the road."
I perk up. I've never been to a gay club.
"Alright, alright," Somi sighs. "We'll head to your club in a bit, mate."
Lisa leans toward Ben saying something that makes him laugh. She's friends with women, gay men, and people from all over the world. She's so accepting of everyone that I'm beginning to think she just might be perfect. The more time I spend with her, the more I like her.
"Well done," Somi whispers, leaning across Joy to get to me. "Hot and wealthy."
She's talking about Lisa. I quirk a brow. "Is she?"
She grins in a mysterious way. Kai's family is wealthy too, so it doesn't bother me much…but I do wonder how wealthy is Lisa? And why do I keep picking the wealthy, knights in shining armor? Is it something in me that draws them close, or something in them? I don't want to be with someone who feels like they has to save me. Because if there's one thing I've learned, it's that we can only save ourselves. And even that's not guaranteed.
"Come on." Lisa takes my hand. "Let's dance."
I have just enough time to set my drink down before she's pulling me away. Rosé catches my gaze and gives me a salute and a grin. I don't dance. But tonight…I do. Dancing leads to sex…right? At least that's what Footloose taught me. With Lisa's arm around my waist, we weave our way through the crowd and onto the dance floor.
"I don't really know how to dance."
She laughs. "Most of these people don't."
We're pushed close together, my body molded to hers. This isn't dancing, I realize, its foreplay. She smells good. Really, really good. I slide my arms around her neck and close my eyes as I rest my face against her shoulder. Unable to help myself, I breathe her in.
Her hard planes press into my soft curves like we were made for each other. All my reservations, my insecurities, vanish. As we move, her thighs rub against mine. Her chest brushes my nipples, turning them into hardened buds that press desperately to my thin bra. That heated ache deep within me flares, pulsing, pounding. If the flirting is this good, what will sex be like?
We dance for what seems like forever. The music changes. One European techno song after another. They all sound the same to me. Sometimes we dance close, our bodies pressed so near I can't tell where I end and she begins. We don't speak, but we talk with our movements. And I'm normal. For a long, long time I can ignore the exhaustion that is creeping ever closer.
And after so many songs that I'm almost numb with euphoria, Lisa takes my hand and pulls me close. Laughing, I fall into her. Of course she's a great dancer, because she's perfect at everything. She's caught my gaze, and in her eyes I see her desire, her interest.
"I really like you, Jennie."
Before I can process her words, her mouth finds mine, her lips so firm, so delicious, so demanding. Right there, in the middle of the dance floor, she kisses me. And then, because this isn't a fairy tale, it all ends.
My stomach twists. Not good. The floor under my feet wavers. The roar of blood rushes to my ears. I feel light-headed, and it isn't because of the kiss. I push away from her, my mouth still tingling from the pressure of her lips. "I…I need a minute."
I scurry through the crowds, leaving her behind before she has a chance to stop me. Not now. I can't get sick now. I'm vaguely aware of our table of friends watching me as I race by them. Of Joy calling out to me, but I don't slow until I make it to the steps. Panic keeps me going.
I can't get sick in front of them. Damn it all, I will not ruin this night. I stumble from the building, avoid the line of people waiting to get inside, and move down the sidewalk until I find an empty spot along a brick wall.
The cool air comforts me, even as the music pounds around me, loud and irritating. People are laughing, singing, dancing, cars honking. No one notices me, thank god. The fun lasted for a while, didn't it? For about an hour I could pretend everything was fine. I'm Cinderella and my time is limited. But there's no happily ever after at the end of this story. I sink back against the wall.
"You okay?" Joy is suddenly standing in front of me, her gaze full of worry. She has my purse. "You left so suddenly."
I nod, surprised to see her, and take my purse. Every time. Every single time I think I'm doing better, life smacks me across the face. "Just felt a little sick."
She leans against the wall next to me. She's wearing simple tight jeans and a t-shirt. "Is it the first time you've drank?"
I nod, feeling miserable, and slump down the wall until I'm crouched at the ground. I want to go home now. I want to sink into bed and forget. I'm embarrassed, I'm angry, and I'm disappointed. I had an agreement with the universe. We agreed I'd have a month. Just one month.
"Lisa is calling a cab." She hesitates. "Were you drinking before you came?"
I swipe the sweat from my forehead. The cool air is making me feel so much better. Or maybe it's the open space. The fact that it's not quite so loud out here. Not so crowded. "No."
"That was a quick reaction." She crosses her arms over her chest. "You didn't drink much. Are you like…allergic to alcohol?"
She's fishing for information. Suspicious. I shrug. "Maybe."
Ignoring her doesn't work. She's still here, but I barely notice because I'm trying to take in deep, soothing breaths like I learned to do during chemo. I wish she'd go away. Wish a damn taxi would drive by so I could wave it down and return to the apartment.
"Jennie…are you sick?"
I keep my eyes closed. "Maybe it's the flu…"
"No. I mean really sick."
I stiffen.
"I'm asking because…my boyfriend is sick. Been for a year. This…" She releases a harsh laugh. "Is supposed to be my night out. My night to forget. He makes me go out once a week. As if I can forget."
I open my eyes, searching her face. Now I understand the sadness I could sense pulsing from her. "I'm sorry."
But her worried gaze is on me. She's studying my features like everyone at home looks at me…like I'm a patient. Like I'm ill. Like there's something wrong with me. "Maybe I'm just paranoid since I've been around illness so long, but it's just…your symptoms…the way you look…"
"Please," I whisper, horrified, and not even sure what I'm begging her for. "Stop."
She nods in understanding. She knows. From dealing with her boyfriend…she understands. "It's not my business, but if you need anything…"
As if I would bug her. She's a stranger who has her own shit to deal with. I force myself to smile. "I'm okay."
She hesitates. "Does Lisa know?"
"No. I just met her like five days ago." I stand slowly. My heart is pounding with adrenaline…anxiety, fear. I'm not sure. "I just wanted to pretend to be normal. Just the two weeks I'm here."
She rests her hand on my shoulder, her fingers warm and comforting. "I won't tell her, I'll leave that to you."
I frown. Leave it to me? As if she expects me to admit my illness? "It's not like that. We're not serious." I rake my hands through my hair, frustrated and confused. "I'm leaving for Norway in a week."
A cool breeze stirs her beautiful dark hair, making it curl like satiny ribbons. "Okay. I get it."
Does she? Can I trust her? "Will you tell them I had to go? Make sure Rosé gets a taxi?"
She nods.
Suddenly Lisa is there, her gaze sympathetic. "Come on, Lightweight. Isn't that what you American's call it?" She wraps her arm around my waist and leads me toward the street where a cab is waiting. And even though I don't want to rely on her, I can't help but sink into her form, greedily soak up her essence, her strength. "I'll take you home."
Before we get into the taxi, I glance back. Joy is still standing there, watching us.
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By the time Lisa leads me up the steps to my apartment I'm feeling better. I'm also wishing I hadn't run outside like a drama queen. Maybe if I'd sat down, sipped some water, I could have avoided this scene. But it's too late now.
Being the reserved Scandinavian she is, Lisa doesn't pry. She merely slides her arm around my waist and helps me up the stairs. But I see the worry, the sympathy in her gaze as we stand outside my door.
"I'm fine," I say. "Really. You don't have to walk me up."
"It's alright, really." She brushes by me and takes my key, opening the door for me. Just like Kai she's a care-taker. It annoys me more than it warms my heart. If I wanted another babysitter, I would have stayed home. She moves to the side, allowing me to enter first. It's only then that I realize she's in my apartment and we're alone. Completely alone. Suddenly, my bad mood lightens.
"I'll be a minute."
I tuck inside the small bathroom, where there's barely enough room to move, to see the damage. There are dark smudges under my eyes. Lovely. I look paler than normal, but overall it could be worse. I can hear her in the kitchen, getting water.
For one brief moment, I stare into my eyes and I can see the indecision flickering there. What am I doing? Do I really want this? Yes. It's my one chance, damn it all. And it's my birthday. I brush my teeth, pinch my cheeks and head out to see if she's still here, or if she's come to her senses and fled.
She's standing by the open window, the breeze tousling her hair, making her shirt cling to her broad shoulders. Sensing me, she glances my way and holds out a cup of water. "Never drank alcohol before?"
I shake my head. "Sips, but nothing strong."
She hands me the glass. Our fingers brush. "Right. I forgot you're American. It's okay to shoot someone, but god forbid you see someone drink, breastfeed or kiss in public."
I grin. "Hey, you guys aren't angels. I've been told by a very reliable source that Scandinavians are arrogant."
She laughs. "Maybe. A little. I guess no one's perfect though, right?"
I sip my water. I'm not sure. She seems rather perfect, which makes me wonder…what are her issues? I set my glass on the small table and pause next to her to look outside, savoring the breeze. I'm highly aware that I'm alone in an apartment with someone I barely know. I'm highly aware that this could lead to another mark off my bucket list if I let her stay. I am highly aware that when I'm dying this could be the moment I think about to make me feel better.
She steps closer. If she touches me, I know I'll tip over the edge. There will be no holding back. She cups the side of my face, sliding her fingers into the hair at my temples. A sigh escapes my lips. I love how she takes control. Love that look she has in her eyes right before she kisses me. A look that says she's so damn sure. Of herself. Of me.
"Jennie?"
"Yes?" I whisper.
"I'm going to kiss you now."
My heart is hammering so loud surely she must hear it. "Okay."
She steps even closer and when she lowers her head to mine, I lift up on tiptoe and brace my hands against her chest. Her kisses are so very different from Kai's. Or maybe it's just how my body reacts that's different.
Kai has become a friend. The last time we kissed, it was…sweet. Innocent. I feel anything but sweet and innocent toward Lisa. I feel heat, attraction, desire, like I've never had the chance to experience before. I want her. I want to know what it's like to feel her body on mine, no clothes, skin against skin. I want her to touch me…everywhere. I want to touch her everywhere. I want to be in the moment, and to forget.
Both her hands are cupping my face now, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss. She's so damn gentle, yet so damn sexy. When her tongue sweeps across my lips, I open willingly for her. It's a deep, thorough kiss that leaves me hungry for more. I slide my arms around her neck and lean into her body.
I've experienced so much in my short life. Pain. Anger. Loss. But this…this is new. This is what I've been missing. What I've been craving. What I need before I can say goodbye. Passion. Yearning. Complete connection with another.
Her hands leave my face and slide down my back, cupping my ass and pulling me up against her rock-hard arousal. I groan against her lips. The ache between my legs flares, desperate, demanding, throbbing.
"Whoohooo!" someone screams outside, startling me.
Panting, I tear my mouth from hers. The catcall is a reminder that we're making out in front of the windows. A flush of embarrassment rushes up my neck, and into my face.
Laughing softly, Lisa steps away from me. "Perhaps not so exposed."
She takes my hand and leads me toward the couch. The sparks flashing between us are not in my imagination. I can see the attraction in the darkening of her eyes. I can feel it in the hardness of her body. She wants this. I want this. It's going to happen.
She pulls me closer and I somehow end up on her lap as she sits on the couch. Her.. erection throbs hard underneath me. I shift, moving against her, I can't help myself. But it only intensifies the ache. Desperate, I wrap my arms around her and mold my lips to hers. Nervousness, excitement, boldness and timidity all crash through me at once.
Despite my worries, I am determined not to die a virgin. Her hands slide under my shirt, her palms warm against my back. The heat seeps through my body, into my bones and eases the tension within me.
With a groan, I nip at her bottom lip. She presses me closer, and my breasts crush to her chest. Her heart beats sure and strong against me. My body awakens, as if I've been asleep for a long, long while. My senses are spinning, heightened. I open my legs, my dress sliding up my thighs, and straddle her. The long, hard length of her erection strains against her jeans, against me. A delightful shiver races through me. I've never been so desperate for someone. It feels as if I've finally come home.
"Helvete, I want you," she says, her voice thick and husky with desire.
She has no idea. Everything that seemed so important only last week, no longer matters. She is foremost in my mind. Here. Now. Her hands slide down my back and cup my ass. I want her to tear off my dress and bra. To draw my breasts into her mouth. I want her to pull aside my panties and touch me there.
She drags my body closer as her tongue delves between my lips. It's a deep, completely thorough kiss that leaves me trembling and desperate. I do what I've been wanting to do since I first met her and comb my fingers through her hair, playing with the strands. It's as soft and thick as it looks.
I slide my hands under her shirt and up her chest. She sighs and leans back, allowing me to explore. Oh, how I want to explore. Her dark gaze is pinned to me, her lips parted as her breath comes out in harsh pants that match my own. There's a promise in her touch, a promise of more, a promise of pleasure to come.
"You are gorgeous," I say.
"I think I'm supposed to say that to you." Grinning, she tugs me toward her, nestling her face against my delicate neck. "Do you know how badly I wanted to slide this dress off your body when you danced with me tonight?"
The entire world has disappeared. She is all that matters. We might have met only a week ago, but in this moment it feels as if I've always known her. She tugs at the sleeves of my dress and it falls down around my shoulders. Cool air whispers in through the windows, bringing goosebumps to my exposed flesh.
"Beautiful," she murmurs, as she lowers her head, lips brushing against my cleavage.
My breasts grow heavy, tight in my black bra. Despite the breeze wafting in through the open window, the room feels stifling hot. I rock against her. Every night since that first meeting I've fantasized about her kissing me, touching me, sliding her hands under my skirt. My entire body is buzzing with unspent energy. Her hands grip my waist and she lifts me, laying me down on the couch. Her hot and heavy body follows. The ache between my thighs is sharp now. Almost painful.
If only she would run her hands up my thighs and touch me there, if only she would rock against me a little longer…I know I'll come. Why didn't anyone tell me it feels this good? A kiss isn't enough. I want more. I want her inside me. Connected.
"Lisa," I whisper, as she kisses my jawline. "I want you."
"I know," she replies.
She finds my mouth before I have a chance to respond, to beg her to sleep with me. My fingers bite into her back as I lift my hips, arching into her steel erection. My entire body is heated and thrumming with the need for release. I reach for the button of her jeans while her mouth continues to ravage mine. We're both greedy and desperate.
"Slow," she mutters breathlessly against my lips, taking my hands and pinning them to the couch cushion above my head, holding me captive. "We have time. God, I want to take my time with you."
No, I want to say. No. I don't have time, and I'm frantic to know her in every way I can, before it's too late.
Nothing matters. Nothing but her. She is the center of my universe at the moment. The delicious weight of her body is what is keeping me here, grounded.
She rests her forehead to mine. "We should stop."
What? Why? What the hell is she talking about? She braces herself on her elbows and I hate her for pulling away. But she doesn't move, doesn't leave me. Instead, she brushes her thumb over my lower lip, her attention dropping to my mouth. A soft, gentle touch. A shiver tiptoes down my spine. Her gaze meets mine again. Our eyes lock. Something whispers between us. A connection I don't understand. A connection that worries me, as much as it intrigues me.
I shift underneath her, feeling slightly uncomfortable. It's too intimate. Her gaze too intense. It's as if she's looking into my soul. This was supposed to be a one night stand. A fling. "Lisa…"
She takes in a deep breath. "We should probably wait."
"Yeah," I reply, strangely relieved.
She stands, her back to me. Her jeans are hanging low on her hips. As much as I want to check off "lose my virginity," something isn't right. Maybe it was too fast, or maybe not fast enough. Slowly, I stand on trembling legs, and smooth my dress back into place. Maybe we've spent too much time together.
"So, umm…thanks for tonight." I blush. "I mean the club."
She pauses, her back to me, her shoulders stiff. Have I offended her in some way?
"I mean…"
She turns toward me, cups the sides of my face, and presses her mouth to mine. She's kissing me again, and again I'm falling…falling into her, molding my body to her muscled form. A touch. All it takes is a touch. Her tongue sweeps between my lips and wraps about mine, velvety soft. Just as I'm sliding my hands up her chest to wrap my arms around her neck, she pulls back.
"We will continue this," she whispers. "That is a promise."
I feel hot and cold all at once. Hell, I'm not sure how I feel. And suddenly, I realize what the problem is…I like her. Really, really like her. I'm not supposed to like her. This is supposed to be impersonal. A one-night stand.
A key rattles in the door. Lisa untangles my arms and steps back. She's going to leave me here. Leave me aching and desperate. Part of me wants her to go and take the confusing emotions she stirs within. The other half of me wants to drag her to my bedroom.
"I have a day off Saturday." She brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, a gentle touch. "Have you been outside of Copenhagen yet?"
I'm still feeling off balance and confused, disappointed and relieved all at once. I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly cold. "Umm…no."
"Great. I'll be by around ten." She heads to the door just as Rosé enters. "I'll see you soon."
They say pleasant goodbyes while I'm standing there aching from the loss of her. Confused, because I shouldn't miss her when we just met a week ago. I don't seem myself. I feel suddenly lost, off balance, and I don't like it. Is this what it's like to be intimate? The door closes. So does my libido.
Rosé kicks off her boots. "Did I interrupt something?"
"No." I sigh, pacing to the open window. Lisa leaves our building and heads down the dark street. Like an infatuated fool, I'm desperate to get my fix and I watch her until she disappears around a corner. "Kind of."
"Oh God, I'm so sorry." She settles on the edge of the couch. "What happened? They said you didn't feel well?" Her eyes widen. "Oh my god, did you fake an illness to get her here?"
I laugh. "No." I hesitate. I don't want to tell her the truth, but I'm tired of lying. Exhausted, attempting to keep everything hidden. Damn it all, I don't want to be weird and mysterious. I sink onto the couch next to her.
"Thank you for the dress."
"Of course. And I want you to keep it."
I shake my head. "No. I couldn't."
"Yes. You can. Your birthday present. It looks way better on you anyway. I mean it, you can't say no to a gift."
"Thank you." We fall silent. I stare at the floor, wondering if now is the right time. Is any time the right time?
"What is it, sweetie?" she asks.
I meet her gaze. "Rosé, there's something I need to tell you."
She takes my hand, her fingers warm and soft. Her gaze is so kind, it's almost my undoing. "You can tell me anything."
And so I do.
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