Becca was lying right next to her, her back towards Krissy. Despite the vastness of mattress real estate available in this California King, she and Becca always slept close together. It never started off that way, though. Whether here in Krissy’s enormous bed, or at Becca’s, in her normal king-sized bed, the two of them would start off snuggling down to sleep with plenty of space between them on the mattress. Yet, somehow during the night, they’d gravitate toward each other, sometimes waking up spooning or in a tangle of limbs.
It was never awkward when that happened. They were such good friends and so familiar and trusting of one another that when they awoke in such an intimate state, it just felt natural. Becca even called it “comforting” one time.
Krissy stared at Becca’s dark hair. Becca had braided it last night after Krissy had given her that back rub and while they had watched Tenet on HBO Max. Now, the braid was messy after a night of sleep, one end of it even having slipped out of the hair tie Becca had closed the braid with. Krissy twirled her finger around that rogue end and then shifted herself a bit closer and wrapped her arm around Becca’s waist.
Becca stirred but didn’t awaken. She did, however, moan her approval in her sleep and reached for Krissy’s hand, pulling her tighter.
Krissy’s heart thudded. With her face now centimeters from Becca’s hair, she sniffed, smelling her own shampoo because Becca had forgotten to pack hers. She didn’t know what time it was, and she didn’t care. However, usually, once she woke up, she was up—preferring to get out of bed no matter how early it was.
This morning, though, she wanted to stay right where she was, pressed against Becca because this was better than any alternative.
Well, better than most alternatives…
Soon, her eyelids got heavy and she was once more asleep.
***
When she awoke again, Becca was gone. But the smell of bacon told her that her best friend was still in the house. A glance at her bedside clock informed her it was almost eight-thirty.
Getting out of bed, she went into the bathroom, peed and freshened up with mouthwash and deodorant. She changed into new underwear and a new set of pjs and then, brushing her hair as she walked, she headed to the kitchen.
“God, I love you!” she said, as the sizzle of bacon and the sight of scrambled eggs being prepared met her when she walked into the kitchen.
Becca, at the stove, looked over her shoulder at her with a smile.
“I knew this would wake you up,” she said.
After a few more strokes with the hairbrush, Krissy quickly placed it on a small table just outside the kitchen, came back in and headed straight for the cabinet where she kept the coffee. She had a super-fancy coffeemaker which Chloë—one of the girls who used to work at La Vida Mocha—had recommended to her a while back. In a few minutes, after adjusting the settings on the machine for the particular coffee she had chosen, Krissy had the magical elixir brewing.
“How long do you have?” she asked Becca.
“Not long,” Becca answered, plating the food. “I need to leave after I eat.” She smirked at Krissy. “Sorry to sleep with you and run,” she said in a faux apologetic voice.
Krissy sighed theatrically.
“Story of my life,” she said, rolling her eyes heavenward like an actress in a period drama. “I can never get a woman to stay past breakfast!”
“Pobrecita,” Becca said in Spanish, which made Krissy’s clit shiver a bit. She loved it when women spoke other languages to her. Becca wasn’t fluent in Spanish, but because she was a firefighter in a region with lots of Spanish-speaking residents, she had learned some phrases.
With the food delivered to the small breakfast table in the kitchen, Krissy poured two mugs of coffee, adding two Splendas to Becca’s, and then sat down to join her friend.
“Seriously, thanks for doing this,” Krissy said. Having a firefighter as a best friend had this as a big bonus: firefighters know how to cook. Becca may suck at making coffee, but she knew how to put together a tasty and quick meal.
“Thank you for the back rub last night,” Becca said. Krissy noticed how much Becca’s face colored and wondered what that was about. “It was…amazing.” She then took in a forkful of scrambled eggs.
“I can’t wait to see you on TV,” Krissy said. She was having a hard time making her eyes behave. Becca was still wearing the pink tank she had slept in, and the curves of her braless breasts under the fabric were like sirens calling to Krissy’s eyes.
Becca looked at her.
“I doubt the press conference will be televised,” she said.
Krissy scoffed.
“Um…you’re going to lose that bet!” she promised. “Wait here!”
Her iPad was in the next room; she was back in a moment.
“Okay,” she said, looking at Twitter, “so…you’re trending.”