Jennie

One year later

"Not bad," Minnie says, "I guess."

Lisa's best friend supposedly means the townhouse I've just purchased. However, she's looking at me, not the spacious living room.

"I'm glad you approve," I say dryly.

"Yeah. Well. Kind of." With a half-smile, Minnie looks at her phone. "Sorn says she and Lisa should get here in a few minutes with dinner."

I manage not to grimace. I don't care for Minnie's new girlfriend, whom she started dating immediately after leaving her last boyfriend. Lisa tells me that she's never seen Minnie like this before—with soaring highs and crashing lows. All I know is I'm likely to find dinner exhausting.

"That'll be nice," I lie.

And yet, when Lisa and Sorn stagger through the door, laden down with takeout from Miller Union, I can't help thinking it's going to be a very nice evening indeed. All the furniture is in, all the appliances are set up, and two of Lisa's friends are here. We wanted something low-key to help us celebrate the first night in our new home, and she got to pick the guests this time.

Our home. Who could ever have believed?

In spite of my fears, dinner goes smoothly. The food is good, the wine plentiful

Lisa's eyes sparkle at me over her glass of pinot grigio, and I know she's thinking the same thing. It's been a long day, but we've both got enough energy to christen our new place—our new life—as it deserves.

"How's the quail?" Sorn asks me.

"Delicious." Moving to West Midtown has certainly improved our dining options. To say nothing of finding other queer people. Queer—a word Lisa tells me isn't the slur I thought it was, as long as straight people aren't using it. I've entered a new world.

"Hmph." Sorn pops goat cheese ravioli into her mouth. "Wonder what its little quail family would have to say about that."

"Sorn, c'mon," Minnie groans. "Jennie, thanks so much for dinner, you honestly didn't have to."

"Nonsense. It's—" I catch myself before saying my and look back at Lisa. "Our pleasure."

She tucks a saucy streak of lavender hair behind her ear and grins at me in return. My heart, like the Grinch's, seems to grow three sizes.

Then again, it always does when she looks at me that way. Even my parents noticed. I think they were shocked. What happened to their dour, driven daughter? Who left this happy stranger in her place?

Whoever it is, I'm forever grateful.

Dinner continues with only minimal sniping from Sorn and concludes with the truly thoughtful housewarming present she and Minnie brought: a framed photo of Lisa and me on the night we all went out to dinner after she was accepted to Emory Law.

"It was Sorn's idea," Minnie says proudly. "See? She's not all bad."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Lisa smiles at the photo. "Seriously, y'all, thank you so much. I love it." She gives me a swift glance.

"We both do," I say and bask in her smile. I'm really quite silly these days.

Sorn and Minnie bid us goodnight. They both know I'm not a hugger, but Lisa gets two enthusiastic embraces.

"Congrats," I hear Minnie whisper to Lisa. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks." Lisa squeezes Minnie tighter. "Me, too."

After the door closes behind them, Lisa turns to me with a relieved sigh. "And…we're done."

"The house is all ours," I agree. In fact, it's the first moment we've had alone in it today. Until now, it's been full of movers, realtors, and friends. Now it's just us and a seemingly endless pile of boxes. We should start unpacking them immediately.

"Let's dance," Lisa says softly, and I have no power to refuse.

The sound system isn't set up, so we sway barefoot in our new living room to music from Lisa's phone. The sound quality isn't ideal. I don't care.

As Louis Armstrong tells us it's a wonderful world, Lisa murmurs, "This place is perfect."

"No place is perfect. But," I add since I'm trying to be more empathetic, "I'd say it's close enough."

She chuckles. "Yeah. How was work this morning?"

I worked a half day today before returning to supervise the movers. Luckily, I was able to be productive during the ride home. Having a driver is a marvelous thing. "Uneventful. How was school?"

"Okay. I'm enjoying Torts, but Civil Procedure's going to kick my ass."

I hold her more closely. "It would be easier if you weren't working."

"Don't," she warns me.

I sigh. "If you insist."

"I like my job. I'm paying my way. It's important." She rubs her forehead against my shoulder. "I'm not gonna be a leech."

Now it's my turn to warn her. "You could never be. I respect your decision, but please stop talking like that."

She sighs.

I hold back my own sigh. Lisa is so fiercely independent. I respect it, certainly—I ought to since it's like looking in a mirror. But she made it into Emory on her own steam after a year full of upheavals and without a single bit of intervention on my part, even though I'm not without connections there. What more can she want?

"Sorry," she says. "I guess it's a reflex at this point. I know I don't have anything to prove; I really do."

Spoken like someone who really doesn't. Lisa and I are cut from the same cloth, and we're always going to have something to prove—to ourselves, if nobody else.

I can think of better things to prove. For example, I can prove that even at the end of a long day, I've got what it takes to celebrate our new home properly.

I pull Lisa in more closely so that our breasts press together and our cheeks touch. Our hips bump, and I feel an immediate throb of interest between my thighs.

"Well," Lisa says, "hello there."

I kiss the juncture of her throat and shoulder. "Hello."

She sighs as I continue kissing up the soft expanse of her neck. "I was thinking about this all through dinner."

"Good. What specifically were you thinking of?"

"Our new bed…but I can be flexible."

Her hands slide down from my shoulders, over my cotton blouse, to cup my ass. My breath catches.

It catches again when she begins to slide my skirt up my hips. Her warm fingers brush against my bare thighs.

"I can just see you ordering those poor guys around." Lisa nuzzles my earlobe. "Wearing your best lawyering outfit. Very commanding."

Now my skirt is up around my hips. She mentioned the bedroom. Why should we have to go all that way? "I—strive to give that impression."

"I know you do. Underwear off."

I'm already dizzy, already getting wet. Breathing quickly, I shimmy my panties down my legs and kick them away.

When I've obeyed, Lisa takes my face in her hands and kisses me. Luscious warmth rolls through me at the touch of her mouth, and we both moan when we part. Her eyes are glazed with desire.

"Now," she says softly, "Foot up on the sofa. Keep facing me."

Breathing quickly, I raise my knee and press my foot into the sofa cushions. The movement slides my skirt higher up my hips, exposing me. Opening me.

She touches me, sliding two fingers between my lips. "Fuck. Already wet for me." She looks at my breasts, where my nipples are hard beneath the cotton. "Already tight."

"Do it." Over the past year, I've learned I'm what's called a pushy bottom. "Fill me up."

Lisa shakes her head, hums, and slides only one finger inside me. It's still enough to make me arch forward and groan. We've been doing this for months, but I haven't stopped feeling naughty when she takes me so carelessly, as if I don't deserve to be disrobed and tenderly caressed.

"More," I whisper.

"Be nice." She presses a second finger against my entrance.

I can't help it. "Please!"

She's flushed and breathing hard. She wants this too. "You asked for it," she says, and I find myself with not two but three fingers sliding deep inside me while her thumb brushes my clit. So very full.

I'm already shaking and quivering around her hand, already close. Here, in our new place. Our home.

Suddenly, this isn't enough. "I want you, too," I choke.

Lisa's eyelashes flutter. She knows what I mean. "Hurry," Her eyes flash with how much she wants me. "Holy shit, Jennie. How am I already—you're incredible. Hurry."

My hand fumbles between our bodies until I'm cupping Lisa between her legs, my palm firm against her pants. She bucks forward, begins moving her fingers again, and it's all I can do to keep up. I rock my hand in time with her thrusts inside me, making her moan until we find a pace that drives us both wild.

"Jennie," Lisa groans, grinding forward into my hand, "I'm gonna—Come with me, I want you to—"

She gasps, and the telltale sign almost pushes me over the edge all by itself. The quick crook of her fingers finishes the job, and I convulse on her hand, crying out, while she bucks against me in her pleasure. We keep moving our hands, keeping it going until I'm so sensitive it's bordering on pain. Yet I still don't want to stop. I want as much as I can get; it's my nature.

"Jesus," Lisa whispers when she sags against me. "You're amazing, Jennie."

"Not bad yourself." I came so hard I'm amazed my teeth aren't chattering.

"And it's not a bad way to settle in." She presses her sticky fingers against my mouth.

Obediently, I lick them clean, welcoming the now-familiar taste of myself. It's not the same as Lisa's taste, but I've learned to love it nevertheless.

"Such a naughty girl."

"Hmph." I kiss the tips of her fingers as she removes them from my mouth. "I'm not the one who didn't even need direct contact to get off."

"If I didn't feel so damn good, I'd get you for that." She leans in and kisses me so sweetly I lose my breath and wonder if I could be ready to go again. "Wanna have a drink and fool around some more?"

"You certainly know how to talk to a girl." I can't muster even a hint of peevishness.

Lisa leads me back to the kitchen, where she takes the bottle of Dom Perignon from the fridge. She pops the cork with a squeal of delight. It hits the ceiling and bounces harmlessly down to the floor.

I smile tolerantly and accept the bubbling flute of champagne she pours for me. "Cheers."

"Cheers, honey." We clink our glasses, while I smile at the endearment, as I always do. Lisa sips, and adds, "You know something? It'll be one year tomorrow that we met."

Really? I blink. She's right. "How about that."

"Yeah. Labor Day weekend. I remember it clear as anything." She grins at me.

I bite my bottom lip instinctively and then remember: I'm learning not to hide my smiles anymore. I mark our anniversary as the day we agreed to come out together, which isn't too far into the future.

Lisa looks wistful. I think of the past few years: betrayal, scandal, loss, all coming at her from different corners.

"It's been one crazy year, huh?" she asks.

"The craziest," I say dryly. "Are you hinting at something?"

She shrugs diffidently, but I can see the hope in her eyes. "I know we're both busy, but I was hoping we could do something. Something bigger than going out to dinner, I mean."

I tap my chin. "Bigger than dinner. Ziplining into the Amazon, maybe?"

She rolls her eyes. "Or maybe not."

"A week in Paris?"

A sigh now. "Jennie, come on. I didn't mean huge big. Just…"

"A weekend in New York City with tickets to a show?"

She catches the note in my voice and perks up, alert. "Now that sounds like something awfully specific."

"Awfully," I agree.

"Something you might have already been thinking about?"

"Maybe." I sip my champagne. "I haven't bought any tickets yet, but I thought you'd like to see what's available. You've never been to New York."

"I've always wanted to." Her eyes are shining. "Oh, Jennie. Thank you. It's going to be the most amazing weekend ever!"

That seems like a fairly tall order, but perhaps it will be. Even if it's not, Lisa will be by my side, sharing another new experience. We've had so many of those in the last year, and yet my appetite for them hasn't decreased one bit. I want more and more with her, always more. Lisa Manoban has shown me what it means to want something for myself, and I will always be grateful to her for that.

I will always love her for that.

I reach out and touch her chin. She looks at me, and whatever she sees on my face fills her eyes with warmth. "Jennie?"

"Come on, darling," I tell her. "Let's have an adventure."

She beams at me. She's got a streak of lavender in her hair. She turned my life inside out, and I've never been so happy. With my heartbeat singing in my ears, my body thrumming with pleasure, I lean forward and take another kiss.

THE END . . .