No More Wasted Time: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

“Long night,” Krissy said.

“Long night,” Becca agreed.

She knew it would probably be best if she spent the night alone. Something was going on with Krissy with regards to her, Becca was starting to realize. Lately, over the past few months, her best friend has been acting strangely—more so than usual. Krissy had been a bit more flirty, and the way she showed affection had changed also. Nowadays, though, when they held hands while window shopping, Krissy was prone to stroking Becca’s with her thumb. Or, she would do things like what she had done just now—coming to hang with Becca, but sitting on her lap.

Becca had been enjoying it, quite frankly, and didn’t want it to stop. But it made her wonder what had caused this shift.

Had her best friend picked up on the crush she had developed for her? Becca had been trying not to be obvious about that, but maybe she had failed? And, if Krissy had picked up on it, was the change in Krissy’s behavior just her way of fucking with her? Teasing her? Saying, without words, I know your secret and I’m going to torture you with it!

On the one hand, that didn’t seem like Krissy; yet on the other hand, it kind of did.

Therefore, Becca knew she should just go home by herself and unwind. She could stay up late watching movies and eating ice cream. Then, tomorrow, she’d call Fiona again.

Yesterday, Becca had decided that she needed to stop being ridiculous. Rather than trying to figure out some way of sussing out whether or not Krissy would be open to taking their friendship past the girlfriends stage and into the GIRLFRIENDS stage, Becca determined to just leave well enough alone, pull up her big girl pants and get over this crush by exploring possibilities with Fiona.

But, goddamn…the feel of this woman on her lap. It was making Becca a little lightheaded.

She couldn’t help herself. She’d work on getting over this crush tomorrow.

“Do you want to stay the night with me?” she asked, half of her hoping Krissy would say yes; half of her hoping she’d say no.

But Krissy smiled and Becca’s core got wetter.

“Definitely,” Krissy said. “I need to stop by my place first, pack a bag.”

“We both really ought to just start keeping pre-packed overnight bags in each of our cars,” Becca said, “considering how often we sleep at each other’s house.”

“Great idea,” Krissy said. “No wonder you’re so good in a crisis.”

“Anyway,” Becca said, staring at Krissy’s lips. “I need to shower when I get home. Just use your key when you get to the house.” They had exchanged house keys only a couple of months after meeting, when they realized how deep their friendship had already gotten. At the time, Krissy made some kind of U-Haul joke, but Becca couldn’t remember it at this particular moment.

“Are we leaving now?” Krissy whispered, her breath on Becca’s lips an intoxicant.

“Yeah,” Becca stated. “All I want to do is get out of this fucking dress uniform.” She let her eyes roam over Krissy’s form. “I know I’ve already told you this a doz

en times already, but you look amazingly hot in this dress. I feel like I’m not even a woman next to you in this get-up.”

Krissy laughed and blushed.

“Shut up,” she said. “Besides, this Admiral Becca thing you’ve got going on is kind of hot also.”

“That’s because you’re a weirdo,” Becca teased.

“And what do you want to do when you get out of this uniform?” Krissy prodded.

Sixty-nine you. For hours.

“Snuggle on the sofa, vegging out,” Becca answered. She felt a little pang in her heart when she said that. After all, if she and Fiona did start dating, and if that dating then turned into something more serious, snuggling with Krissy on the sofa, vegging out, was probably never going to happen again.

Again Krissy smiled.

“Let’s do it,” she said.

***

Becca felt so much better after the shower. Normally, she liked the water almost scalding hot, but this time she had kept it much cooler, although not cold. The stresses of the day had disappeared beneath the spray, leaving her rejuvenated, almost as if she had just had an Americano from La Vida Mocha. She had flirted with the idea of masturbating, considering how wet she’d been by the time she had gotten home. Yet, somehow, the shower had tempered her urges—at least temporarily. Just as well, she figured. If she had come, she probably would have wanted to just stay in bed and fall asleep.

Out of the shower, she stood nude before the bathroom mirror, blow-drying her hair while brushing it to ensure it didn’t get tangled. Once done, she pulled it into a ponytail and then pulled on the white tank and pj shorts printed with cartoon clouds she had waiting for her on the bamboo bench just outside the tub.