Aura POV

I never ended up getting a shower. Tegan and I laid in the bed simply enjoying each other's presence for a while longer. The occasional statement or question was posed, mostly relating to our respective growing feelings. We ended up agreeing that it was a good idea for me to go home, shower, change, and have some time apart. Neither of us wanted to ruin a good thing by tiring it out. Also, we needed time to process the extremely confessional morning. Plans for dinner were made, so it wasn't like the time apart would be more than a few hours.

Once back at my apartment, I immediately stripped and took a warm shower. My aching muscles thanked me. The water pouring over me relaxed my body and my mind, while I thought over the quite eventful weekend I was having.

I didn't really have trust or commitment issues, at least not the kind that made it hard to trust or commit to someone. I loved the idea of committing to someone and trusting them wholly. In every previous relationship, I committed and I trusted, but it was always shattered. There were a couple 'just better as friends' circumstances, but there were definitely a few times where my heart had been thoroughly ripped apart. I never held it against a new person. The idea that commitment was scary or trust was to be avoided never became a part of me. The only way my history showed itself in a new relationship was that I grew more intentional in my pursuit of knowing the feelings of the other person. If asked, I was always honest about where I stood emotionally, but somewhere along the line I had stopped taking for granted that the notions were requited. You had to specifically tell me how you felt about me for me to accept that you felt that way about me.

But that's where trust comes in.

I gave the benefit of the doubt to anyone I met. I don't assume anyone is lying. Until they lie, that is. If you lied to me, then I turned cold just as quickly as I found out. I had an ability to deal with anything, as long as I knew it was the truth. I guess that's where my trust issues showed themselves, if I had any. It wasn't easy to gain my trust in the first place, just like any person, but it was next to impossible to regain my trust if you lost it. This held true for friends and relationships.

So if I trusted someone, it took a while and was an 'all or nothing' type of thing. If I trusted someone, then I had reason to, because we had known each other for long enough for me to notice that they are trustworthy. If I trusted someone, then they could say anything and I'd believe it. If I trusted someone…they could do anything.

The fact that I was beginning to trust Tegan like this frightened me a bit. We didn't know each other long enough to have any history for me to feel comfortable saying that her word was good. So far, she definitely hadn't proven otherwise, but it had barely been 36 hours.

By this time, the water had turned a bit cool, signaling how long I had been in the shower. My best thinking was always done in there, anyway. I got out and changed. Lounging around my apartment a bit, I caught up on a few of my daily to-dos. The email got checked, the apartment tidied, and the web got surfed. The internet was being less than entertaining and not very time consuming. I still had about two hours before I was supposed to meet Tegan and Sara for dinner, so I decided to get a bit dolled up. My girly side didn't show itself often, but when it did, everything got gussied.

Already having straightened my hair, I added a few curls around my head. Mascara, eyeliner, eye shadow, and lipstick came next. A smoky look had been achieved, and I looked in the mirror satisfied with my reflection. Next came clothes. After searching through my entire closet, I came to the conclusion that I needed more clothes. This was a common outcome for 'girly me'. 'Less-than-girly me' would have been able to get by with 7 shirts and 7 jeans, but 'girly me' never understood the concept of 'too many clothes'.

I settled on a flowy skirt that fell between my knees and ankles. It was black with a few layers of inch-long lace frill intermittently down it. My top was a green and black striped tube top, but it was long and went from my sternum to my hips. Since my chest was too big to go without a bra, I put on my usual one for this top. It was off-white, but the straps were pleated and black with a bow on each side as they came to the cups. Wearing this under the tube top made it look like a tank top, because the bows poked out just above the top elastic band of the shirt.

I glanced in my full length mirror one last time and wondered how Tegan would react to my appearance. Her preference on the feminine look was unknown to me as yet, because I had just been wearing skinny jeans and a plaid flannel shirt around her until now. Riding that thin line between soft butch and strong femme had forever been a fun game of mine. I slipped on a pair of black ballet flats. Heels would have been too much, since I was already 3 or 4 inches taller than Tegan.

Hmm, maybe I could get her into heels someday. Ha! That'd be a sight. I would need photo evidence, I humored myself. I did have a couple pairs of stilettos that would actually put Tegan taller than me, but who knew if she could walk in them.

I looked at the time and realized I had to leave to meet them at the hotel. The car ride was short due to a lack of heavy traffic, and I ended up being about 10 minutes early. I strolled into the elevator and down the hall to Tegan's door and gave it a soft knock.

"Just a minute!" Tegan's voice was muted by the thickness of the door. Within moments, it was opened. Tegan's eyes widened for a second as they scanned me from head to toe a couple times. Finally, Tegan said, "Wow. I mean hi. Hi."

"So you like?" I asked cutely and blinked my eyelashes at her.

"Uh. Um. Yeah. I like. D-do you want to come in? Come in. Hi," she stumbled over her words. Her eyes continued to take in every angle of me. I took her distraction to check her out myself.

She had changed into black skinny jeans that hugged her curves, of which I was most appreciative. Her top was a sweater made out of a thin material that was loose fitting but clung to her bust. It's collar was oversized and had extra material that bunched up down her chest. It dipped low enough that I could almost detect a bit of cleavage from the right angle. Between the memory of having actually seen her breasts and the imagination of getting just a slight peek now, I was left a bit flustered. Tegan had straightened her hair, so it was smooth instead of her usual bed head style.

She stepped closer to me and placed her hands on my hips. We leaned into a soft kiss together that was meant as a greeting but quickly grew more heated. I was worried a bit about getting lipstick all over her face, since she wasn't wearing any makeup herself, so I pulled away slowly.

"You know, we could just stay here," Tegan murmured with her eyes glancing straight to my chest.

"Well, you really like, eh?" I smirked as Tegan nodded slightly, her eyes still fixated below my neck. Her hand moved up my left side and grazed over my exposed collarbone. Suddenly her lips crashed into my neck, and her other hand held me tightly on my lower back. I moaned in surprise and dug my fingers into her back, which only seemed to encourage Tegan. Her lips moved up to the spot just below my ear, eliciting more noise from my vocal chords. "Tegan, honey," I gently squeezed her shoulders.

Tegan whined, "Whaaat?" Her bottom lip protruded in a pout.

"We should probably get going. I know I'm hungry, and you probably are, too. We'll have plenty of time for dessert afterward," I said. Tegan's eyes lit up at my promise for later.

"Then what are we waiting for? The sooner we eat, the sooner we eat," she winked at me with a mischievous grin. I just face palmed and shook my head.

"Alright. Get some shoes on. Let's go then," I muttered through an amused smile. Tegan quickly put on a pair of black boots that had thick soles and a slight raise in the heel. She was almost my height.

Tegan had picked out the restaurant, and it was one I hadn't been to yet. This was odd to me, because I lived here and she didn't. She said she had eaten there once before the last time she was in town. After parking the car, we went inside, and Tegan told the host that we had a reservation. I was a bit shocked with the place. It wasn't a restaurant that was so fancy that it required a suit and tie, but it was definitely upscale from the diner I had taken Sara and Tegan to for breakfast. We sat at our table, and I was thankful I had chosen to wear something a bit dressier than normal.

"Tegan, this isn't what I was expecting," I spoke as soon as the host was out of earshot.

"Well, I figured I would take you on a proper date," she shrugged and smiled.

"Without even asking me out first? How forward of you," I raised an eyebrow, amused by her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought that with the way you woke me up yesterday and last night after the bar, a few formalities could be skipped," Tegan threw the ball back in my court, and I laughed.

Dinner went smoothly. Our food was shared and complimented. We never seemed to be in an awkward silence since our initial meeting. The awkwardness that starts a relationship had dissipated completely. Neither of us had a reservation about laying a hand on a thigh, entwining our fingers, sharing a brief kiss. By the end of the meal, I felt suitably wooed. When the check came, I was faster than Tegan this time.

"Hey! I brought you on a date. I should pay!" she argued.

"Look. You have fed and housed me since we met. I want to treat you. Please?" I tried to put on my sweetest face and tone for the end. Tegan looked almost defeated but also like she enjoyed it a bit. Another mental note was made for later.

I paid the bill and left a generous tip. Tegan and I had discussed that the server hadn't made us feel at all on display. Sadly, even in a city as liberal as this one, going on a date with the same sex isn't always welcomed.

On the ride back to the hotel, Tegan's hand surreptitiously landed on my thigh again, but it was softly grazing higher than in the restaurant. Her gaze was out the front window, as though nothing was happening. Eventually her fingertips brushed high enough that I had to pay attention to regulating my breathing.

"Tegan, I'm trying to drive," I warned, but it came out breathier than I meant.

"Hmm? Why, whatever are you talking about?" she feigned ignorance. Her movements stopped including the lower part of my thigh, focusing on the crease between my leg and my hip.

"Tegan," I warned again, and this time it came out as more of a whine.

"Yes?" she spurred. By this time, she was lightly dragging her index finger back and forth across my hip and dipping lower to my center each time. "I'm just making sure my dessert is waiting for me."

I couldn't reply anymore. All of my focus was occupied between driving and Tegan's finger. Once we arrived at the hotel, we practically ran up to her room. She tried to take the lead, but I wasn't having it. She needed to be taught a lesson on proper car behavior. With the mental notes I've gathered in the last few days, I shoved her onto the bed.