Falling for Jillian Ashley: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

The next evening, the doorbell at Amy’s apartment rang and Amy got up from her sofa to let Rachel in. Sally had decided to work a little later this evening due to her suddenly deciding to take a vacation and she told Amy she wanted to be sure things were in order before they left for San Francisco; also, Sally had dinner plans with her mother later, so it was doubtful Amy was going to get to see her tonight anyway. Thus, Amy had invited Rachel over to cook Thai food together and watch TV.

“Okay, my mind is officially blown!” Rachel said as she walked into Amy’s place carrying some groceries.

Amy giggled.

“Blown about what?” she asked, following her best friend into the kitchen.

After settling the grocery bags on the counter near the stove, Rachel looked at her.

“That book by your new main squeeze! Holy fuck! Chapter twenty-five was…holy fuck!”

“I told you!”

“I wish I was a lesbian!” Rachel exclaimed.

Amy laughed.

“No, I’m serious!” Rachel continued. “I just can’t believe what I read! That chapter has changed my life about what sex could actually be like! Actually, the whole book has done that, but especially that chapter. You don’t understand, sweetie. Sex with men is never like that!”

Amy pulled out her wok and two cutting boards.

&

nbsp; “Yeah, well, you need to understand that there are plenty of women out there who are lousy in bed also,” she told Rachel. And Amy had had her fair share of them. Gwen, for one. Amy was a big believer in to each her own, but a lesbian who didn’t like going down on women? Seriously?

Rachel placed the prawns she had brought over on one of the cutting boards and started slicing them in half while Amy began chopping the onion and red chilis on the other.

“But how is it with Sally?” Rachel asked. “She’s not lousy, is she? I mean, she can’t possibly be! She wrote that book! She wrote chapter twenty-five, which, by the way, is now my favorite chapter in any book written by any author, male or female, straight or lesbian.”

Amy laughed and told Rachel—without providing too many details—that Sally was beyond fabulous in bed and that their sex life was phenomenal.

“In fact, I invited her to San Francisco with me,” she added.

Having finished with the prawns, Rachel had just started preparing the stir-fry sauce by mixing oyster and soy sauces with some sugar. Briefly looking up from her stirring duties, she asked, “Really?”

But Amy could read the subtext of that one word question.

“I know, I know; it seems super-fast but…”

“What?”

Amy started heating up some oil in the wok.

“Okay,” she began, “so I’ll admit that part of the reason I invited her is because our sex is amazing. I did not want to go a whole week without it.”

“See?” Rachel interjected. “That’s what I’m talking about! I have never had a guy so good in bed that I couldn’t imagine going a week without his services! Anyway, continue…”

“So, yeah, sex played a big role in the invitation,” Amy went on, “but…I don’t know…I have a really good feeling about this one, Rach.”

“Already?”

Amy nodded.

“Already. And you know me…I never say that! It usually takes me longer but…” A small smile formed on her face as she started measuring out rice. “…Sally is amazing. She gets me. I get her. I just didn’t want to be up in San Francisco without her.”

“Well, I’m just surprised you allowed yourself time away from everything you’re always working on to actually have a girlfriend.”

Amy wanted to reply back with something sarcastic, but found she couldn’t. Rachel was speaking the truth, after all. Amy knew she worked too much. If it wasn’t something for the Women’s Resource Center it was something for her blog or her podcast—which reminded her, she needed to sort out all the research for her next episode of Lesbeing—the Podcast, the episode about lesbian period dramas, before she left for Frisco and—