sapph

Every summer, since you were a little girl, you went for a beach trip with your mom and her best friend, Cassie. 

It was nice to have a girls trip and get a little time away from your father. You loved him, there’s no doubt there, but you also liked spending time with your mom and her friend. 

This year, you were most excited. You couldn’t really pinpoint the exact reason why. Maybe it was because you’d been really pent up with school and work and you just needed this. 

You liked Cassie. A lot. 

Even before you turned eighteen. Before you came out. Before you started having dreams and fantasies about your mothers best friend. 

She was supposed to be like an aunt to you. But she was anything but. 

Your mom never noticed, thank God, that would be an awkward conversation, but you were scared she would over this trip. The last time you visited the hospital and saw Cassie, your cheeks were bright red the entire time. Your hands shook more than they did on your first day of college. 

And that says a lot. 

You weren’t stupid. You knew that the feelings meant, the sexual tension, the way her cheeks also flushed just slightly. 

You knew you had a crush on your mothers best friend. 

What would you do with that information? You had no clue. 

But you were going to find out over this trip. 

As you were packing a few last minute things, as you’re leaving tomorrow morning, you receive a message through the thread with Cassie and your mom. 

Looks like I won’t be joining for the first part of the trip. 

You let out a disappointed sigh. 

Of course this would happen to you. You couldn’t tell if the newfound weight on your chest was nervousness or excitement. You were upset your mom wouldn’t be with you for the first part of the week. 

But you were also exhilarated. 

Four whole days with Cassie all to yourself? What would you do? 

Your smirk deepens as you throw your phone onto the bed, zipping your suitcase and placing it by the door. 

You lay back onto the bed, covering your face with your hands, feeling the heat beneath them. 

Cassie, on the other hand, told Dana for weeks and weeks the trip was coming up. Dana only gave her a side glance, rolled her eyes, straightened her posture, let out a simple, ‘i got it, hun.’ 

It was like telling a toddler to do something. They never did it.

Cassie only huffed out a small laugh each time, a shake of her head. She knew this was how the trip would eventually end up. You and her for the first part of the week. 

It made a heat pool in her stomach, made a shudder leave her lips each time it crossed her mind. It was the highlight of her midnight fantasies—ones that always involved you, of course—and she couldn’t rid the thought from her mind. 

She kind of.. wanted Dana to forget. So she stopped reminding her, only reminding her the day before their departure.

Sure, it wasn’t the most ideal plan, kind of messed up if you ask her, but she didn’t really care. 

Dana only cursed under her breath, only half blamed Cassie, checked the schedule. 

Thankfully, her shifts were mostly in the beginning of the week. So if she could get her Saturday shift covered, she could make the second half work. 

She immediately texted Lena, begging and pleading to take her shift and cover way over her shift time, promising she’ll make it up to her as soon as she gets back. 

Lena shrugged like it was nothing, agreed to it, but held her to her word. 

So that’s how you ended up in Cassie’s blue toyota early that morning, snacks and drinks packed in the back seat, radio all yours. 

This was a dream of yours. You’d thought about this kind of thing happening for years on end, hand stuffed under your shorts, music playing softly in the back to drown out your sounds. 

But now that it was actually happening? 

You were nervous as hell. You nervously picked at a scab on the side of your leg that was out of Cassie’s sight, angled your body towards the window so you only caught a glimpse of Cassie’s hair if she moved in a certain direction, and your heart raced out of your chest at a speed you weren’t sure was healthy. 

You played a random playlist out of your music app, something generic enough that you thought Cassie might enjoy as well. 

You tried to even out your breathing enough that Cassie wouldn’t question the rapid rise and fall of your chest. 

It wasn’t as easy as it seemed. 

Thankfully, the beach you were going to was only about two hours from your house, and you were about halfway there. 

“How’s school?” She asks, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

Your chest clenches, and you swear at whatever made her start speaking to you. Because you were known to say stupid things around attractive people. And Cassie was unfairly attractive. 

You wish she could’ve held out only another hour. You wanted to talk to her— you did, but you were scared you’d say something you didn’t mean. And if you did, you had nowhere to go. 

Unless you swing the door open now and just jump out. But that wasn’t reasonable. You were an adult, with adult feelings, and you could handle it. You were reasonable. 

God, if your mother knew what was going through your head over her long time friend, she’d probably lose it. She’d make fun of you, but then her face would turn serious and she’d—

“You okay?” She looks at you with so much concern, it makes your heart swell three sizes. 

“Yeah, sorry.” You shake your head, bite your nail, and look back to the window. “It’s good. School, I mean.” 

“I know what you mean.” She chuckles, a bright grin on her face, one that usually makes you break out into a matching one. But right now you could barely focus on the words she was saying. 

“Okay.” You breathe out, “Sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” She shakes her head. “You hungry? I got your favorite.” 

She reaches back into the backseat to hand you a bag of chips, and sure enough, they are your favorites. Favorite brand, too. 

“Uh..” You smile down at the bag like a stupid idiot, looking back up at her with your dopey smile. “Thanks.” 

“Of course. Only the best for you.” You see her wink at the last second, so quickly you almost miss it, so quick you aren’t sure if it actually happened or if you imagined it. 

“I also got you a soda.” She reaches back into the cup holder, handing you the bottle. 

You clear your throat, “How’s the hospital?” 

“I bet you hear a lot about that through your mom.” She looks at you from the side, face tilted towards the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the middle console. 

“Not as much as you would think.” The conversation flows more freely now, and you’re thankful for that. 

“Well..” She licks her lips, and you watch the way her throat constricts as she swallows. You wonder if it’s a nervous habit or if it’s simply because her throat is dry. “It’s been good. You know, the usual.” 

“What’s that like for you?” You turn your body towards her now. 

“That’s kind of deep, don’t you think?” She turns towards you for only a second before turning back towards the road. 

“It doesn’t have to be.” To Cassie, your voice visibly softens. But if anyone asked you, you’d say your throat got suddenly dry. Or that she was imagining things. 

“I don’t know.. there’s the usual idiots who drink too much, make stupid decisions.” She shrugs. “And we have to take care of them.” 

You can tell she wants to say more, but you don’t push her further. You let her take her time. If she wanted you to know, she’d tell you. 

Of course you knew of her past, she shared stories to you about it freely on your outings with your mom. And she’d made off handed jokes before. But you wondered how deep her past was curated into her veins. 

You wondered if on the hard days she thought about it. Or when she finally got shared custody of her son.. what went through her mind. 

But that.. that was deep. 

And definitely not a car conversation. Or an anytime conversation. Not between Cassie and you. 

She probably never told anyone that kind of thing before. And you wouldn’t be the first. In fact, you’d probably be the last she’d admit that kind of thing to. 

You reach forward and turn the music up. You don’t want her to keep talking. It’s selfish, but you were afraid of what else you might say if you opened your mouth back up. 

You’d be very disappointed if you ruined the trip before it truly began. It would be awkward. 

Even more so if it made things so uncomfortably awkward between the two of you that you couldn’t even form a full sentence around her. Imagine what your mom would think then. 

You finally arrive at the beach house forty-five minutes later. It felt way longer than it should’ve, the tension so thick you couldn’t cut it with a knife. 

Cassie helps carry your bags in, even though you told her multiple times she didn’t have to. She only brushed you off and continued to carry things into the house. 

As she carries the bags in, you sit on the couch, watching the way her biceps bulge in the process. 

You shouldn’t watch the way you are. It was risky. Especially if Cassie happened to look up even an inch to see you staring. 

She brushes a piece of hair out of her face before looking over to you. 

Thankfully, you’re staring at the ground now instead of watching her. Nice save, you internally roll your eyes. 

“I just have to grab my last bag.” She says to no one in particular. 

You let out a breath of air after she walks back out of the house. You turn on the couch so you’re facing the television on the wall. Anywhere but in Cassie’s direction. 

You hear her huff out a breath as she brings her last bag in, brush imaginary dust off her hands, pull out her phone. Her footsteps become closer and she sits down on the couch beside you. 

“What do you want to do today?” She looks at you, phone forgotten in her hand. 

“I figured we could just hang out. I mean.. I don’t wanna tire you out already.” You chuckle softly. “You did all of the driving and you’re probably tired.” 

“No. I’m okay.” She gives you a reassuring smile. “I know you want to go to the beach.” 

“Well.. obviously.” You shrug sheepishly, carefully avoiding her eyes, looking out the window beside her bed at the clear view of the ocean. “But I can wait until tomorrow. I have patience.” 

“Hmm.” Cassie holds her lip between her teeth pensively. “Well, we better get a move on, huh?” 

She smacks her legs and stands up with a sigh, holding a hand out for you to take. She stares pointedly at her hand until you take it, letting her pull you up, seeing just how much strength her arms actually hold. 

And to say you aren’t flustered is a lie. 

“How about we settle into the rooms first?” She watches you carefully as you speak, moving towards the hallways that lead to the bedrooms. “Then we’ll go from there.” 

She lets out a scoff.

“I know I’m old, but I’m not that old, sweetheart.” She crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the wall in the hallway. “I only drove two hours. I can handle a beach day.” 

“Are you sure?” You look concerned, making Cassie laugh again. 

“Absolutely.” She nods. “Let’s unpack our clothes and we can change into our bathing suits.” 

“You’re the best.” You jump with excitement, pulling her into a surprise hug. It takes her a second to catch up, but she reaches an arm around you. 

The nervousness from earlier has surprisingly disappeared, replaced with excitement. 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” She pats your back once before you pull away. 

“Oh, Cassie Mckay, don’t belittle yourself.” You shake your head, brows pulled together in a joking manner. “You’re absolutely amazing.” 

“Okay.” She nods with a laugh. “I’ll bring your bags to your door.” 

“I can do it.” You make a step towards the other end of the hallway, where you came from, but Cassie holds her hand out. 

“I’ll do it.” She says it more sternly than she’d said anything else before, and you immediately take a step back. You think if she spoke like that all the time, that you’d probably do just about anything she said. “Go make yourself look pretty.” 

That takes all of the air out of your chest, and suddenly you’re nervous all over again. You turn on your heel quickly before she gets a look at the crimson red on your cheeks. 

You leave the door only slightly cracked, making your way towards your bathroom to check your reflection.

You looked better than you’d imagined considering the windows were down the entire way here. You run your fingers through your hair to smoothen out the flyaways as best as you can, but you think you’re probably better off waiting for your bag. 

You hear rustling in the hallway and a drop of a bag. 

“The first of many.” You hear from the hallway. 

Yeah, you probably way overpacked, but you didn’t care. You needed options. 

You bring the bag inside the room, beginning to unpack your clothes, leaving the bathing suit you planned to wear on your bed. 

Once everything’s away, you slide the bag into the

corner and work on some of the other bags. Shoes, makeup, hair products, other bathroom stuff. 

Soon enough, you’re sliding your bathing suit on, effortlessly tying it in the back. Next, you slide on your bathing suit cover up. 

Lastly, you brush your hair, sliding the brush through your knotted hair, before throwing it up in a messy updo. 

“Hey, are you almost ready?” Cassie leans her head into the bathroom, and you turn towards her with a nod. 

She lingers for a moment, taking in your bathing suit, wondering what she had to do or who she had to kiss up to to be the one to take it off of you. 

If it was her way, you wouldn’t be making it to the beach for another hour or two, if at all. 

She meets you in the living room only a minute later, holding the front door open for you. 

The beach is within walking distance, so the two of you make the short trip over there. Once it becomes too hard to walk on the sand, you lean down to take your shoes off, letting the sand seep between your toes. 

“God, I missed this.” You groan. 

“Me too.” Cassie says a little breathlessly, but you pass it off as all the cardio you were doing right now. 

“Kinda bummed my mom isn’t here, though.” You look over at her, squinting from the sun. 

“Yeah.” She shrugs one shoulder. “But we’ll make the best of it. We won’t have fun if we sit around sulking. The least we can do is enjoy it before your mom starts nagging us.” 

You laugh at her joke, because she isn’t wrong. 

You lay your towel down, apply sunscreen to the parts you can reach. You’re ready to give up on your back before Cassie takes the bottle from your hand, squeezes a little onto her palms, and rubs it all over your back without question. 

You smile cheesily over at her, but she only shrugs. 

“I don’t need you getting sun poisoning.” She lifts her eyebrows. “Your mom would definitely kill me.” 

“True.” It’s your turn to rub the sun screen on her back now. “We can’t let that happen. I like you too much.” There’s a silence that cascades over the two of you. “But so does she.” 

“Good to know.” She smirks over at you, laying back on her chair. 

Then you’re sitting there wondering whether she was talking about you, or your mom. 

The next morning you wake up way too sunburnt, sore, and extremely tired. 

The first thing you notice is the smell of coffee. The second thing you notice is how hot you are. And sticky. 

You groan and shut your eyes again, mentally ignoring the very vivid dream you woke up from halfway through the night. 

You sit up with a huff, the sunlight too bright to enjoy another twenty minutes of sleep. You grab clothes for after your very cold shower, and make your way to your bathroom. 

You turn the water as cold as it will get and step inside. You immediately shiver from the vast difference between the water and the hot room you were just in. 

The water doesn’t help the heat still pooling low in your stomach, and neither do the random flashes of your dream. 

You lean your head against the cool tile, biting the inside of your cheek. 

Your hand takes a mind of its own, trailing down your stomach before reaching your aching clit, circling it a few times. 

A small moan leaves your lips, and you're thankful for the running water. Not that you think Cassie would be standing inside your room for any reason. Or that you could hear anything from the kitchen. 

You lean your head back, the cool water contrasting with your stinging cheeks. 

You slide your finger down your slit a few times before sinking one into your tight pussy, shuddering at the feeling. Your thumb comes up to rub at your clit slowly, building the release you’re desperately craving. 

You bite your lip to hide the loud moan threatening to spill from your lips. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” Cassie’s voice breaks through the sound of running water, making your cunt tighten only slightly. 

For whatever sick reasons, it makes you slide a second finger in, curling them perfectly, biting down on your fist. 

“Y— yeah?” You say breathlessly, hoping Cassie can’t tell from out there. 

“Do you want to go get some breakfast?” She pauses. “Or I guess brunch, now.” 

“Yeah.” You moan, coming dangerously close to breaking with Cassie on the other side of the sliding glass. 

“Okay.” She says warily. “Are you okay in there?” 

“Fine.” You say confidently, pulsing around your fingers, on the brink of your orgasm. 

“Okay. Meet me out here when you’re ready.” You hear the door shut again, and your other hand comes out to find stability on the wall, coming apart on your hand. 

You finger yourself through the rest of your orgasm, letting out a content sigh when you pull your fingers out, rinsing them under the shower head. 

You continue on with your shower, washing your hair and body before stepping out and grabbing your towel. 

After sliding on your jean shorts and simple top, you brush your teeth, apply some simple makeup, and blow dry your hair. 

You leave it natural today, letting the hair cascade down your neck and back. 

You check yourself in the mirror to make sure you’re all ready before going out to face Cassie. Your chest gets tight at the thought of her knowing what you were doing in the shower, but you convince yourself everything was fine. 

All that false confidence changes when you see her sitting on the couch, legs spread open, resting her coffee cup on her thigh. 

God, you just wanted to maul her right there. 

It made your cheeks flush again and your pussy throb, but you ignored both of those facts. Instead, you clear your throat. 

“Oh, hi.” She stands and tucks her phone into her pocket. She walks into the small kitchen to rinse her cup out. She peers over her shoulder at you,  “You ready?” 

“Ye— yes.” You nod, rolling your lips. 

You look at her hair, messy waves like she slept with it wet and didn’t have the energy to tame it. Then you look at her outfit. A simple tank top with jeans. 

You let out a huff, begging the ground to swallow you whole. 

“Alright, let’s go.” She grabs her bag from the couch, holding the front door open for you. “Anywhere particular?” 

“Uh, no.” You shake your head, settling on simple answers to prevent worsening your situation completely. 

“Are you sure you're okay?” She squints at you like she always does when she’s concerned about you, and it makes your heart jump. 

“Yes, Cass.” 

“Okay.” She gives a simple nod and unlocks the car. “I’ll pick somewhere.” 

The two of you drive for a few minutes before you arrive at your destination. You smile when you realize it was a place you discovered on your last trip here. 

“I’ve been craving that breakfast sandwich I got here last time for weeks.” She grabs her bag from the backseat before opening the car door to get out. 

“Oh my gosh, yes!” You get out of the car, excited more than scared. 

You’re starting to realize Cassie has that effect on you. She distracts you from the nervousness to the point you forget you were nervous in the first place. 

“They have that amazing cinnamon roll.” You groan to yourself just thinking about it. 

“Alright, sweetie. Get whatever you want. On me.” She pulls the door open for the both of you, letting you walk in first. 

“Are you sure?” You frown. “I could pay.” 

“I’m sure.” She nods and holds up two fingers to the hostess, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you leave the tip.” 

She’s also really good at making that nervousness resurface when she makes comments like that. 

“Okay.” You ignore how flushed you are now, focusing on not tripping before you sit down. 

You open the menu and scan the beverages before the waitress comes over to take your orders. You smile politely and order your favorite coffee, whereas Cassie orders water. 

You sigh as you look at the menu, thumb coming up to rub over your eyebrow. 

“What’s the matter?” She dips her head to look at you. 

“I don’t know if I want the breakfast sandwich now or if I want the cinnamon roll.” You look up at her apprehensively, but she’s staring at the menu. 

“Why not both?” She asks without looking up. 

“But, Cassie—“

“Hey, I got it.” She put her hand out. “I’m a big shot doctor, remember?” 

“Yeah, but you have a kid and yourself to provide for back home. I can’t just take—“ 

“Baby,” The word makes your stomach do multiple flips all at once, and your blush deepens to your chest. “I said I got it.” 

You settle with a nod. 

After ordering your food, you take a sip of your coffee, relishing in the feeling it makes in your body. You blow out a rush of air. 

“Have you heard from your mom?” Cassie moves her straw between her fingers.  

“No.” You say, a surprised look on your face. “She’s probably just busy with work.” 

You open your messages, surprised when you see one from her last night that you never saw, you click on it and read it. 

Hey, honey. Hope you’re having fun. I’m definitely not here at work. Call me later tomorrow with Cass. Don’t get into trouble without me there to bail you out. 

You laugh to yourself, looking up at Cassie to see a certain look on her face that you can only describe as jealousy. 

“My mom actually did text last night. I must’ve missed it.” You type out a response to your mom without looking at Cassie. 

We are having fun. Sorry I didn’t see this last night. We’re at brunch now. Call you tonight! 

You put the phone on the table for Cassie to read, and she chuckles as well. “Sounds like her.”

“Right?” 

“I am still a little upset she’s not here with us, but we’re having fun all on our own, aren’t we?” She smiles, her dimples popping out, making it impossible for you to look away. “I’m having fun with you.” 

“Yeah?” You smile at her, eyes looking at hers intensely before the waitress breaks up the moment by sitting the food in front of the two of you. 

“Here are those breakfast sandwiches. And the cinnamon roll. Is there anything else I can get the two of you while I’m here?” She smiles at the both of you, leaving when the two of you shake your heads. 

“Can you at least eat a little bit of the cinnamon roll so I don’t feel so bad? Please?” You look at her guiltily. 

“Okay, fine.” Her eyes look over you. “But only because you asked so nicely for me.” 

You ignore her comment and shove a bite of the sandwich in your face, chewing to get out of the conversation. 

After the two of you eat, Cassie pays and leaves the tip, much to your dismay, and then you leave. 

“I kinda want to walk on the boardwalk later, if you don’t mind.” Cassie unlocks the car so the two of you can slide inside. “We can go to the beach in the meantime.” 

“Yes, of course!” You talk with your hands. “You know I have to get a new t-shirt.”

She chuckles, “Yeah, I do. Maybe we could get matching ones this year.” 

“Yeah.” You look dumb-founded, thankful Cassie is focusing on backing out and not paying attention to you. “I’d really like that.” 

“Good.” She nods. 

Cassie insists you spend the rest of the day on the beach, and you don’t mind one bit. You’d always been a big fan of the ocean and sand, so you were more than happy to spend the day there. 

You wore a different bathing suit than yesterday, this one a little stringier than the last, but kept the cover up. 

You laid on the beach beside Cassie for a while, arm over your face to hide the sun from peeking in, before pulling out a book and flipping onto your stomach. 

“What are you reading?” Cassie looks over at you from her phone, letting the device lay across her stomach. 

“Just a romance novel.” You shrug. 

What you don’t say is that it’s your favorite queer romance author’s newest release. Or that you’re picturing Cassie as the love interest. Or that it was an age gap that matched the two of you perfectly. 

“Maybe you could read to me later.” She says off handedly, eyes back on her phone. 

You just clear your throat, blaming the blush on your face on the beaming sun above you. You manage to focus back on the book and read a few chapters before Cassie takes the book out of your hands. 

“Cass!” You scramble to your knees frantically, afraid she’ll read the back or lose your page. “Give me it back.” 

“On one condition.” Her finger holds the place you were last at, reading the title before looking back at you. “You get in the water with me.” 

“Really?” You suddenly forget about the book altogether, newfound excitement taking over your features at the thought of swimming with Cassie. 

She rarely got into the water, let alone swam. So you had to take the advantage while she was offering. 

“Let’s go.” You grab her hand, Cassie hastily sitting the book onto her beach chair, making sure to mark your page. 

Cassie allows herself to be pulled along by you, almost tripping several times before she reminds you she’s older than you, with less energy, and to slow down. 

That makes your stomach flutter for so many reasons. 

You lead her out until the water reaches up to your chests, standing close to each other. 

“The water is way cooler than I thought it would be.” Her arms float around in the water, forming smaller waves that cascade into your sides. 

“I thought it would be hot. Like the sun.” You lean your head back slightly to wet your hair. 

“Hm.” She smiles softly, watching you while you have your eyes closed. “I like your bathing suit.” 

Her words make your neck snap back up to her, a new blush taking over your body. Not from the sun this time. 

“Thanks. I’m not even sure where I got this.” You distract yourself by playing with one of the straps on your shoulders. 

“It’s pretty anyways.” Her eyes bore into yours with so much intensity you want to throw up. Or jump her bones. Or both. You aren’t sure yet. 

Her eyes move from your eyes to your cheeks, down to your lips, but move quickly down to your neck before coming back up again. You look away, flushed from the way she was watching you, over to the large oncoming wave. 

“Oh! Watch out!” You laugh loudly before clutching onto Cassie, taking her down under the wave with you. 

When you resurface, you cough multiple times, trying to clear your throat of the salt water. You blink a few times, rubbing your eyes, before you feel a soft hand pushing hair off your face. 

“Are you okay?” When you look at her, her eyes are full of concern, one hand gripping your hip, the other cupping your face between her palm. “Get it all out.” 

“I’m—“ cough. “t— trying.” 

“I know, honey. I know.” Her palm slides across your cheek, pushing more hair back. “You got it.” 

You let out a breath of air when the coughing stops, looking down at the water. 

“Maybe we should get out.” She dips her head to meet your eyes, looking into them to make sure you’re really okay. 

“Yeah.” You sigh with a nod, letting Cassie’s hand slide to your back to lead you out of the water. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She flattens the flyaway hairs on the top of your head. “Why don’t we go back to the house and get changed, hm?” 

“I thought you wanted to spend the day here?” You ask breathlessly from the way her hand is rubbing against your lower back. 

You trip over something at the base of the ocean where the waves begin, and Cassie’s quick to hook her arm underneath yours. 

“I think we should get out of the sun.” Is her deflection. 

“Okay.” You say with a huff. 

You gather your things and make the quick walk back to the beach house, Cassie’s eyes never leaving you. You pretend you don’t notice her eyes boring into the side of your face so hard you’re surprised a hole doesn’t form. 

Cassie holds the door open after unlocking it, and you relish in the cool air conditioner before you shiver. 

“Cold?” She frowns down at you. 

“Fine.” You laugh. “I’ll be okay, Cass.” 

“I know that.” She scoffs, but it comes out more like a nervous laugh. 

You give her a look as if you don’t believe her, but Cassie only rolls her eyes. “I’m going to take a shower. I promise I’ll still be breathing when I’m done.” 

“Don’t joke about that.” She pushes against your shoulder softly, a smile forming on her face, hand lingering way too long. 

You press your lips together, giving her a once over before making your way to your room. 

You settle on a Pittsburgh Med sweatshirt and a pair of shorts, laying them over the sink while you step into the shower. 

You take your time showering, compared to this morning, and memories of Cassie standing out of the shower play back in your mind. You run your hands through your hair repeatedly until you rid almost all of the sand from your scalp. 

Then you shampoo, wash it out, and scrub conditioner onto the ends of your hair. 

You wash your body, turning towards the stream of water to enjoy the warmth. You let out a soft moan at the feeling of the water. 

When you’re done, you dry your hair as best as you can with the towel before hanging it to dry. You braid your hair into a loose braid at the nape of your neck. 

When you reach the living room, Cassie’s also showered already, sitting with the television on, some random reality show you know she hates. 

But you love it. 

“You don’t like this kind of thing.” You throw yourself onto the couch, taking half of the blanket thrown over Cassie’s legs. 

She looks over at you with her eyebrows raised and you point to the television. 

“Sure I do.” She scoffs. 

“Don’t lie to me, Cass.” You look up at her, and you swear you hear her breath hitch, but she covers it up quickly with a cough. 

“Okay, fine.” 

Your phone starts ringing then, and you don’t even realize it’s a little after seven. You promised you’d call your mom, but it seems she beat you to it. 

Cassie watches as you answer, your moms face overtaking the screen. 

“Hi, mom.” You smile down at the screen, inching closer to Cassie until your sides are flushed together. Cassie puts her arm around you to pull her closer. 

“Hi, hun.” Her bright smile matches yours perfectly, there’s no doubt that she’s your mother. “Hi, to you too, Cass.” 

“Hi!” Cassie’s hand that’s resting by your neck waves before falling back to your neck, her fingers sliding against your skin. 

“What’ve you girls been up to?” You can see she’s also sitting on the couch at home. 

“We went for breakfast this morning..” You trail off, your mind replaying Cassie whispering in your ear and calling you a good girl. “And then we went to the beach.” 

“Well, I can tell that much.” She moves the phone down, resting the bottom against her leg. “You look a little burnt on your cheeks.” 

“I told her to reapply sunscreen.” Cassie looks over at you before back to the camera. “But you know how stubborn she is.” 

She picks this time to slide her thumb against the underside of your jaw, out of reach from the camera’s sight. She curls a piece of your hair between her fingers, absentmindedly. 

“That, I do.” She chuckles. 

You clear your throat. 

“You okay?” Cassie’s full attention is on you in a heartbeat. 

“What’s wrong?” Dana looks over concerned, even over the phone and you can’t roll your eyes enough for the both of them. 

“Nothing.” You shake your head. 

“She swallowed a lot of salt water—“

“Because I was trying to tell you the wave was coming!” You throw your hand in the air. 

“My point stands.” She looks back at Dana, as if to prove her point. 

Dana laughs, “That’s my girl, alright. Y’all have any plans for tonight?” 

“Cass wants to hit the boardwalk tonight.” You smile excitedly. “She even said we could get matching shirts.” 

“Well.. seems like you two are having fun.” 

“Yeah.” You slump a little. “I still wish you were here too.” 

“Me too, sweetie.” 

Cassie’s thumb brushes against your pulse point, and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

Two can play at this game, you think. 

You move closer to her, trying to keep the phone stable so your mom doesn’t notice you rubbing against her best friend. You hook your leg over her knee, closer than before. 

You see Cassie lick her lips in the camera, one side of her lips turning up into a smirk. 

Her hand slides under the blanket to the inside of your knee, resting there, squeezing every so often. It makes heat pool once again—you were definitely ovulating—and you want to get off this phone as soon as possible. 

“Only a few more days, right?” Cassie leans forward slightly. 

“Right.” Dana nods. “Well, I’m gonna go so the two of you can head to the boardwalk. Don’t forget to have dinner! Text me when you get back.” 

“I will mom. Love you, bye.” You hit the red button to hang up, ignoring the way your heart is practically beating out of your chest right now. 

Cassie sits there silently, only the sounds of your breathing can be heard, and you don’t dare look over at her. Too nervous about what you might see. 

“Well, we should probably go, right?” You say awkwardly. 

“Yeah.” Cassie turns her head to look back at you. “Look at me.” 

You take a deep breath, still looking forward, unable to move your head. A mixture of guilt and shame running through your bloodstream. 

Whether it was because she was twice your age or because you just rubbed your body against Cassie on the phone with your mother, you aren’t completely sure. 

“Look at me.” She says more firmly, and you snap your neck towards her without a second thought. “Do you still want to go?” 

Her eyes are darkened, but you blame it on the lighting in the room, even though that doesn’t make any sense. 

“Y— yes.” You swallow thickly, removing your leg from hers, the loss of contact from her leaving you cold and achy. “Let’s go.” 

Cassie stares up at you from her spot on the couch and you put a hand out to help her up, a small smile on your face. 

You walk alongside each other silently on the boardwalk. All the lights and noise move past you like a blur. You barely read the signs as you walk by. 

Cassie’s doing good with keeping up with you. She can tell something’s eating at you, but she doesn’t ask. 

Suddenly, her hand comes to your back, the warmth of her hand through the fabric making you melt into her touch. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you’d fold if you were fighting. Not that you were. 

“Sorry, there was someone walking in the middle, he almost ran into you.” She chuckles and looks at the side of your face, but you don’t laugh along with her. 

“It’s okay.” You say quietly. 

“Hey, we can go back if you aren’t feeling good.” Cassie’s concern is plastered all over her body, the way her hand tightens on your back, the way her eyebrows pull together, the way her frown deepens. 

“It’s not that.” You shake your head as if to tell yourself to snap out of this. You settle on a lie. “I just wish my mom was here.”

“What, my company is not good enough?” She jokes but you can feel the insecurity underlining her half joke. 

“No, Cass, I’m sorry.” You’re standing off to the side now, out of the passerby traffic. “It’s not you.” 

“Are you upset with me?” She blinks at you, waiting for a response. 

“No, no, no.” You shake your head quickly. “I don’t really know what’s wrong. I’m sorry. I get like this sometimes. My social battery wears off.” 

Her hand lowers from your back to your hand, and she squeezes it softly. She whispers, “Come here.” 

It’s not a command. It’s low, soft, that voice she only started using on this trip. One you think she’s reserved for only you. You let yourself be pulled into her chest, enjoying the way her hand grasps the back of your neck. 

“Why don’t we..” She speaks into your ear. “Get those shirts, and we can go back to the house. I’ll order something in.” 

“No, Cassie. I can’t ask you to do that.” You lean back only slightly so she can see your face. “I mean, we’re at the beach. We should be enjoying ourselves. Eating at restaurants.” 

“Which we have all week to do.” She nods, eyes latched onto yours. “Let me take care of you.” 

It makes your toes curl, the way she whispers it, the way her eyebrows raise to accentuate her voice, the way her breath fans across your face. And you wish she was saying it in a different context. 

Preferably one where you were writhing underneath her, begging her to touch you, needy. 

The blush reaches your face before you can stop it. 

“What?” She smirks. 

“Nothing.” You shake your head again. “Let’s go into this store. It looks promising.” 

“Okay.” She laughs, allowing herself to be pulled by you. 

She has a feeling she knows exactly what just crossed over your mind, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t want that too. 

“You can pick the shirt we get, hm?” Her hand doesn’t leave yours until you pull away to hold up a random shirt from the pile. 

You hold it up to her chest, your touch brushing against her making her own face heat. 

“I want to pick a color that looks good on you.” You feel the need to explain yourself. 

“No, no. Have at it.” Her jaw tightens in a silent restraint, trying to hold herself back from reaching out to touch you. “I kind of like that green one over there.” 

You walk a few feet, “This one? Aww it’s cute.” 

It has little sea turtles on it in a lighter green shade, the top of the shirt labeled with the beach you were at. 

“Okay we’ll get these.” You nod, your spark suddenly back, and Cassie’s silently relieved. 

When you reach the register to pay, Cassie slides her wallet out of her pocket, but you beat her by a landslide, card already in your hand when the card reader lights up. Cassie huffs a small breath out, shaking her head. 

“You’ll pay for that.” Cassie leans down to whisper into your ear, moving the same piece of hair she touched earlier behind your ear. 

“I think I just did.” You turn your head, smirking at her. 

And Cassie thinks about how easy it would be to kiss you right there. But she doesn’t. 

“You guys are adorable.” The girl behind the register says. “I wish I could have someone to look at me like that.” 

“Oh, we’re not..” You shake your head, pointing between the two of you. 

“Thank you so much.” Cassie grabs the bag from the counter, already halfway out of the store when you catch up with her. 

“What was that about?” You frown and reach for the bag, but Cassie holds it out of your reach. 

“Nothing.” She tilts her lips down and shakes her head. 

“Okay.” You say skeptically. “Whatever you say.” 

When you make it back to the house, Cassie’s already tapping on her phone to order the two of you dinner, whereas you’re laying across the couch, head tilted towards the television. 

Cassie sits on the couch a few minutes later, lifting your legs to lay them across her lap, her warm palms resting against your shins. 

“Are you going to tell me what was wrong?” You bite on one of your nails anxiously. 

“I told you, nothing.” Her shoulders aren’t as tense as they were on the boardwalk, so you decide to let it go. 

You just sigh and turn back towards the television. 

“God, I really do hate this shit.” She leans her head back against the couch. “How can you stand this?” 

“It’s stupid. And funny.” You shrug, inching your body down lower so your legs fully cage Cassie onto the couch. “They overreact over absolutely nothing.” 

“They’ve known each other for two days.” She points at the screen. “She’s crying over a walking red flag.” 

“Do you think I’m a red flag?” You ask around a yawn. 

“No.” She watches you. “I don’t.” 

The air tenses once again, and you force yourself to look back at the screen, focused solely on the screen and not the way Cassie’s eyes stare into yours. Or the way she looks at your lips every so often. 

Her hand rubs over your leg, pulling you into a soft slumber. One you don’t even try to fight. 

Cassie wakes you up with a soft hand massaging your shoulder, rocking you back and forth from in front of you. 

“Baby, the food is here. Do you want some?” Her face is soft when you blink up at her. Your heart threatens to come out of your throat when you wake up enough to understand what she’s saying. 

“Yes, please.” You sit up slowly, Cassie still leaning down below you on her knees. 

You wonder how you keep getting put in these awkward positions between yourself and Cassie. 

“Okay.” She pats your knee and stands, going over to the kitchen area to bring you a plate, sitting it on the coffee table in front of the two of you. 

“We should’ve gone mini golfing.” You say around a bite of steaming pizza, pulling at the cheese that strings off the slice. 

“Chew and say that again.” Cassie says with an amused expression. 

After swallowing, you say, “I said, we should’ve gone mini golfing.” 

“We can tomorrow.” She nods and takes another bite. “If that’s what you want.”

“Okay.” You nod with a small, barely there smile, still groggy from your cat nap. 

After finishing your food, you help Cassie clean up, much to her dismay. You place the pizza into the fridge, mentally telling yourself you’ll grab another slice for lunch tomorrow. 

“Good night, Cassie.” You linger in the hallway, watching her leaning back against the island. 

“Good night, sweetheart.” She looks up, watching you walk back the darkened hallway. 

When you slide into your bed, you check your social media quickly, before closing the apps and opening the message thread between your mom and you. 

You: We got back a while ago. Sorry I forgot to text. 

Mom: That’s okay, sweetheart. How are you doing? 

You: Good. Cassie and I got our matching shirts. We should’ve gotten you one too. 

Mom: It’s okay that you didn’t. We can get a different matching shirt. That way you have one for Cass and one for me. 

Your heart flutters in a way it shouldn’t at the idea of having a shirt linked to Cassie. 

You: Yeah. Sounds good. 

Mom: What was for dinner?

You: I was tired so we came back to the house and Cassie got us pizza 

Mom: Sounds delicious. Plans for tomorrow?

You: Mini golfing definitely. Probably dinner out. 

Mom: Alright. It’s getting late so I’m going to head to bed. Text me tomorrow? 

You: Of course Mom. Good night. Love you. 

Mom: Love you too, hun. 

You shut your phone off and place it on your stand before sinking deeper into your sheets, ignoring the way your pulse is still thrumming and the way the heat in your stomach never fully leaves you. 

Cassie runs out before you wake up to grab breakfast for the both of you, and it’s waiting on the kitchen table when you stumble out of the hallway. 

Your hands rub at your eyes, hair sticking in all directions, lines from the pillowcase left on your neck, but Cassie still thinks you look gorgeous. She’s watching dumbfounded from the couch. 

“I got you breakfast.” She snaps out of it. “It’s on the counter along with that iced sugary crap you like.” 

You turn towards her, unaware of the way you look, and Cassie swears her heart beats out of her chest. 

“Thank you.” You nod, and Cassie finds you adorable in this state. Half awake, sassy, unbelievably cute. You take a sip of the coffee with a moan and Cassie crosses her legs. 

“You’re welcome.” She pulls out her phone so she can force herself to look at something other than you. 

You come over to sit beside her on the couch, unwrapping the breakfast sandwich and taking a large bite. 

You eat in silence, watching whatever Cassie had playing on the flat screen, occasionally taking sips of your coffee. 

“What do you want to do today?” You turn your head, rolling the aluminum foil into a ball, throwing it at her when she doesn’t immediately respond. 

When she looks over at you, you’re raising your eyebrows. 

“You’re gonna pay for that.” She throws her phone onto the table. 

“Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” A playful expression is on your face as you poke at her side. 

She grabs your hand and starts tickling your stomach, holding you down beneath her until your gasping for air. 

“Oh— okay! Ca— Cassie!” You laugh loudly, thankful it was only the two of you there. “I— I’m sorry! Please! I can— can’t breathe!” 

“Say that again for me.” Her hand on your side stills, her voice raspy. 

She licks her lips, staring down at you, cheeks flushed a bright red, Cassie’s hand holding both your wrists above your head. Fuck, she thinks. 

“I’m sorry.” You pout. 

“That’s a good girl.” Her breath fans against your face. “Now, be good for me and tell me what you asked.” 

“I—“ Your voice squeaks. “I asked what you wanted to do today.” 

She sighs, “Are you sick of the beach already?” 

“No! I want to go!” You nod. “I just.. I don't want to tire you out. You’re old, remember?” 

She begins tickling you again before you are gasping for air once again. 

“Go get ready.” She finally lets go of your wrists, but you need a second to recuperate, still catching your breath on the couch. 

Both from her tickling you and from the grip she had on you. You wonder if she held girls’ wrists together like that during sex. 

You immediately stand when the thought crosses your mind, practically sprinting to your room. You shut the door and lean back against it. Holding your face in your hands. 

It was going to be a long day. 

But you could do it. You’ve done it for the past two days. And you could do it for the next two. Just ignore the throbbing in your pussy and move on. 

You dress quickly, the same swimsuit as the first day, put on your cover up, and grab your book. 

“Will you let me get in the water?” You ask when you reach the living room, choosing to ignore what happened a few moments ago on the couch. 

“We’ll see.” She grabs the beach bag from beside the door and steps out into the sun. “Only if I get in with you.” 

“Fine.” You roll your eyes at her. 

Cassie let you pick the place for dinner, seeing as she’s picked everywhere you’ve ordered from or went so far. 

You picked a nice Italian restaurant about twenty minutes from the house. You were craving pasta, and Cassie didn’t mind all that much as long as you were together. 

You wore a cute little summer dress, whereas she dressed in dress pants and an appropriate top paired with it. 

You chose water to drink, rather than any alcoholic beverages. You knew Cassie was okay if you drank, she didn’t usually have a problem around alcohol as long as she wasn’t the one drinking it, but you thought that would be selfish. 

Besides, you weren’t a big drinker. Especially not in public places like this one. 

The conversation flowed easily between the two of you compared to last night. You’re still mentally kicking yourself for acting the way you did. 

You made things confusing, and you didn’t mean to. 

You never wanted Cassie to feel like she did something wrong. And you were sure she felt the same way towards you. 

By the time you finished your meals, the sun was setting over the bay beautifully, eyes watching as the sun began to sink behind the ocean. You ordered a dessert to share soon after. 

Now, full, you’re talking freely. Tired from the day but also energetic from the way Cassie looks at you. 

She was like a drug you never wanted to get rid of. Which probably wasn’t the best thing to compare Cassie to, but you don’t think about that right now. 

Cassie’s reddish hair flows over her shoulders, as she watches you. 

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.” Cassie holds her head in one of her hands, peering over at you with too much love in her eyes to be friendly. 

Which is the line you’d mentally drawn before leaving your house a few days ago. But you had a feeling you were further away from that line than you’d intended. 

“You know almost everything about me, Cass.” You laugh and anxiously look down at your hands. 

“That’s not true.” She shakes her head. 

“Okay..” You think for a moment, the first thought coming to your mind making you flush, sit up straighter and stare away from her all at once. 

“What?” Her blue eyes twinkle with the moonlight, hair blowing with the evening wind, her head leaning forward slightly. 

“I..” You debate whether to say it, eyes darting around you. “Something dirty came to my mind.” Your eyes squeeze shut with a shake of your head, your fingers pressing into your forehead. “I can’t say it.” 

“No..” Her eyes have noticeably darkened since you last looked into them, turned into a dark blue rather than her usual light blue. “Tell me.” 

This time it is a command, her cheeks are flushed just like yours, open and waiting for your admission. 

You swear your heart skips a beat in your chest, and you want to puke and scream all at once. You aren’t sure whether to say it or to come up with something else a little more clean for a conversation with your mothers best friend. 

Her eyes are intense and waiting, and you don’t miss the way her lips close around the cherry that came out of her drink or the way her tongue slides against it. 

It makes you wonder what it would feel like sliding up your slit—the way she’d moan into you when she tasted your slick on her tongue. 

“Okay..” You snap out of those thoughts, blowing out air as if to calm your nerves—something you’ve had to do way too many times on this trip—but it doesn’t help at all. 

You’re sweating more than you should and your leg threatens to bounce underneath the table. 

“You can’t let things be weird if I admit this.” You watch her facial expressions soften. 

I can’t lose you. I can’t lose this, you think. 

“I promise.” She says around the cherry, holding out her pinky to you. 

You link yours around hers when you admit, “Nobody has ever made me come during sex.” You say it all in one breath, so quick you’re afraid she didn’t understand you. 

Cassie’s quiet for a long time, but you don’t dare to look at her. You’re too nervous. If you did look, you were sure you’d see that surprised look she always has when you say something out of pocket. 

Eyebrows raised, mouth agape, mind racing like she’s questioning everything. 

Instead, she surprises you. 

“I bet I could do it.” 

“W— what?” You flush on a whole new level. Because you thought you’d been imagining the back and forth flirting between the two of you. But this feels real. 

“I know I can do it.” She leans forward to hold your chin between her fingers. “So let me.”

Her voice is raspy in a way that scratches your brain just right, and you’re ready to let her do it right now over the table. But you have standards. 

“Cassie..” Your eyes are pleading. “Tell me this isn’t a joke.” 

“Why would I joke about that, baby?” She tilts her head. 

“Take me home.” Your eyelashes flutter. 

Cassie has you against the door as soon as it’s shut. Her lips are on yours, her soft ones against yours, her hand holding your jaw to keep your head in the exact place she wants you. 

Her lips trail down your neck, her hand sliding down to wrap around your neck, applying light pressure. 

You let out a broken groan at the feeling. 

“Cass..” You slump against the door. “We shouldn’t do this in the living room.” 

“Fuck.” She moves her lips away from your neck. “You’re right.” 

She lifts you up bridal style, kicking in her bedroom door so it swings wide enough for the both of you to fit into. 

Cassie lays you against the bed with so much care it makes your thighs feel sticky with your slick. Her mouth is back on your neck, sucking at the pulse point she rubbed with her thumb last night. 

Her hands ball the material of your dress up at your hips, her hands finding the flesh of your hips to hold onto as she kisses further down your neck. 

She pushes the fabric up until your chest is exposed, perfect and waiting for her to explore. She lets out a soft moan, practically drooling at the sight of you. She leans her head back to compose herself. 

“Cassie.” Your hand finds the back of her neck, scratching at the bottom of her scalp. “Touch me.” 

That’s all she needs to dive back into you, placing kisses between your breasts, leaving love bites all over you. 

“Cassie, fuck.” You throw your head back against the pillow. “As much as,” you pause breathlessly. “as I like this, I can’t hide all of these marks.” 

“Who cares? Let them see.” She softens a bite with a swipe of her tongue. 

What you want to say is your mom will be here in only a day, and she would ask questions about this, but you didn’t want her to come back to reality and regret this completely, so you keep your mouth shut. 

One hand leaves your hip to roll one hardened nub between her fingers, reveling in the way you scratch harder at her scalp and moan loudly. 

“If you moan this loud at this, I can’t wait to hear you when my mouth is on that pretty pussy.” She leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“Fuck Cass. Please.” You jut your hips up. 

“Patience.” She smirks. “I thought you had patience.” 

You huff, not believing that she remembered you saying that two days ago. 

“And I thought you were here to make me come.” Your eyes look up at her, like you’re mentally battling, before she smashes her lips against yours. 

“Don’t talk back to me.” She bites your lip before soothing it over with a kiss. “Bad girls don’t get what they want.” 

She wraps her mouth around your nipple, flicking her tongue and sucking on the bud until you're writhing and begging for her to touch you. 

But she’s going to make you wait. 

She moves over to your other nipple, playing with the other under the pad of her thumb before placing her palm over your tit, squeezing the flesh. 

You let out small moans, arching up into her. 

When she feels you’ve finally had enough, she kisses down your abdomen, leaving another hickey there, already darkening as she moves on. She kisses both of your hip bones before abruptly spreading your legs, making you gasp. 

She rids your underwear quickly, tossing it off the bed before placing kisses along the insides of your thighs. 

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” Her nose nuzzles into the soft skin of your thigh. “How long I’ve waited for a moment alone with you?” 

“I think I have an idea.” You say breathlessly, staring down at her. But she’s focused on dessert. 

In one swift movement, her mouth is on your pussy, tongue flattened over the pulsing bud in between your legs. She licks up and down your slit, fucking her tongue into you a few times before settling back

on your clit. 

“Such a good girl for me.” Her words vibrate against you, making you reach down to her hair, pulling her impossibly closer. 

She holds your thighs open to get better access, and you feel her everywhere, all over your body, arms hooked underneath your legs. 

“Cass— holy shit.” You cry out, pulling at the roots of her red hair. “I’m so close.” 

She chuckles against you, tongue sliding against your clit at a rapid pace, stopping every once in a while to suck and kiss. 

“I’m ready, baby.” Her nose rubs against your clit as her tongue moves to fuck inside of you. “Give it to me, please.” 

You cry as you come hard, seeing stars, Cassie’s tongue as deep as it will go. She moves back up to lick you through the rest of your orgasm. 

Once you’ve rode the high out, you lean your head back with a sigh. 

“Holy. Fucking. Shit.” You laugh, blissed out. “That was so good. Thank you.” 

You pull her up to kiss her, tasting yourself on her lips and tongue as she slides it past your lips. 

She breaks apart to lean down to your ear, "You didn’t think we were done yet, did you?” 

“Well— you said—“ 

“I had a taste and now I want another.” She leans back up to stare into your eyes, her nose brushing against yours softly. “I want you to ride my face now, sweetheart.” 

“Okay.” You moan at the thought, already aroused again. 

You move out of the way so Cassie can lay down. Her hands come up to find the soft skin of your ass, helping you settle gently over her mouth. 

She’s sucking your clit again in no time, and you’re struggling to find something to hold onto. You lean forward against her headboard, arms draped over it. 

You jut your hips at how sensitive you are, and her hands come up to your hips to help you do it again. She guides you back and forth on her face, rocking against her. 

You bite your lip to hide the shuddering moan threatening to leave your lips. But it’s no use when she enters two fingers inside of you, adding to the building pressure in your lower abdomen. 

“Cassie.” You cry. “Too much.” 

“Mm-mm baby.” Her words are muffled from below. “You can take it.” 

Your breath hitches when she curls her fingers just right, sending you right over the edge. 

You moan and rock your hips against her face some more, riding out the high. Once you can breathe normally, you remove yourself from her face, smirking at the slick on her face. 

“Now I want to have some fun with you.” You smirk as you unbutton her shirt, revealing the plain sports bra she was wearing underneath. 

She touches your hand, “You don’t have to do that. This was about you.” 

“I want to return the favor.” You kiss the underside of her jaw. “Now be quiet and let me.” 

“Okay.” She shudders out. 

You slide a hand underneath her bra, one hand grabbing at her tit, feeling the weight of it in your palm. You slide your finger around it, almost a ghosting touch. 

“Shit, sweetie.” She bites her lip, holding all of her strength together. 

You slide the shirt the rest of the way off her shoulders, removing the bra over her head, and lean down to kiss one nipple. 

She whimpers, like a needy child, and you think it’s the hottest thing ever. 

You slot one of your legs between hers, pressing your thigh to her core, enjoying the way her breath comes out broken. 

Your mouth wraps around her nipple, like she did with you, and she rocks her hips against your thigh. 

“That feel good?” You moan around her nipple, feeling the wetness leak through her pants. 

“So good.” Her hands wrap around the back of her head, holding your face to her. Her hips stutter as she slowly reaches her climax, a knot forming deep in her stomach. 

You pull away altogether unexpectedly, Cassie’s whine enough to pull a laugh out of you. 

“Relax, I’m not going to leave you hanging like that.” You lean over her to kiss her as your hands move to unzip her pants. “I just wanna taste you. It’s only fair, don’t you think?” 

You pull her pants down her legs, followed by her underwear then. 

You kiss her stretch marks on her stomach, down her mound, all the way to where she needs you most. 

“Fuck, I need you.” She pushes your head into her, but you resist. 

“How do you ask?” You look up at her with expectant eyes. 

“Please.” She whines. 

You let her push your face into her waiting pussy, kneading at her muscular thighs as you flick your tongue up and down. 

One of your hands comes up to her tit, gripping the flesh between your hand, the skin of your palm grazing her nipple deliciously. 

Her thighs close around your head as she gets closer and closer to the edge, and you don’t bother to separate them. 

Death by Cassie Mckay? You’d be more than happy. 

You bring your free hand up to slide two fingers inside of her, sliding in and out perfectly. 

Her loud moans and her pulsing around your fingers tells you she’s getting close. 

“Come for me, Cassie. Please? I’ve been such a good girl, haven’t I?” You look up at her with puppy dog eyes, and when she looks down at you she groans. 

“You’ve been so good. So, so good.” She lets out a breathy moan, coming around your fingers and tongue. 

After she’s rode out her own high, you come up to lay beside her in her bed, not sure whether you can lay too close or if you’re at the perfect spot. 

“Come here.” She slides her hand down your back, pulling you closer. “Don’t be shy now.” 

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come closer or not.” You search her face. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

“I— I don’t know.” You shrug. 

She pulls you in for a soft kiss, her tongue lazily battling yours for dominance. 

“We should shower.” She says after she pulls away. 

“Yeah.” But you don’t make any effort to move. “Do you want me to shower in my room?” 

“Not a chance.” She smiles and leans back down for another kiss. “Come on.” 

You’d never been in Cassie’s room before this. It’s kind of.. homey. In her own way. The sheets smell just like her and you want to stay here forever. 

But you know that’s not possible. 

You know you have to eventually get up. And go back to the real world. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” Cassie’s eyes flutter open, watching you with the softest expression. 

“Morning.” You nuzzle closer into her. “I’m glad we did this, just so you know. I don’t regret anything.”

“Me either.” She whispers and kisses the top of your nose. 

You’d both decided last night to just have a chill day today. You could snuggle on the couch, make out in her bed, have more shower sex. Whatever you wanted. 

Relish in the last day of freedom before your mom came—

“Guys?” The front door shut softly as bags sat down on the floor. 

You sat up quickly. 

“I thought she wasn’t coming until tomorrow!” You yell, grabbing a pair of Cassie’s sweatpants from her drawer to slide on. “Oh, my God.” 

“Calm down.” She whispers. “It’s gonna be fine.” 

“What are we gonna do?!” You’re internally freaking out. 

“Um..” She trails off, reaching for her shirt. 

You don’t hear your mom go into your room, or call your name, or make her way to Cassie’s room. 

“Oh, you’re both in here.” She says it like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 

Until she looks to see Cassie sliding her shirt on the rest of the way. And the fact that you’re wearing Cassie’s clothes head to toe. And the fact that both sides of Cassie’s bed looks slept in. 

She licks her lips, looking between the two of you before walking backwards out of the house. 

“Fuck. I need a cigarette.” You see her run a hand through her blonde locks before hearing the door slam shut. 

“Oh my god.” You slide down the front of Cassie’s dresser, face in your hands, tears sliding down your face slowly. “She’s gonna hate me. She’s gonna hate you. Oh my God.” 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Cassie’s at your side in a second, rubbing circles on your back. “I need you to breathe with me.” 

She pulls you into her chest so you can feel the rise and fall of her chest, “Feel that? My breathing? My heartbeat?” 

You nod silently, tears running down your face, burying yourself in her shoulder. 

“Come on, baby. Breathe.” She places a soft kiss against your temple, breathing in your hair. “She won’t hate you. You’re her daughter. And she loves you.” 

“You’re twice my age.” You throw your hands in the air. “And her best friend!” 

“No regrets, remember?” She lifts your chin to look at her. 

“I know.” You sniffle. “But she’s going to be so mad.” 

“We’ll deal with it together.” She promises, staring down at you. “You should go talk to her.” 

She slides her thumbs under your eyes, drying the tears built underneath your eyes, tucking strands of hair out of your face. 

“Do you want me to come?” She lifts her eyebrows. 

“No.” You look away. “I should do it myself.” You look back up to her. “Do I look okay?” 

“Gorgeous.” She pinches your cheek softly before helping you stand, placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Go.” 

You timidly walk out of the room, standing in the wall to collect yourself for a few moments before going outside. Your moms leaning against the rail, cigarette between her fingers. 

“Mom.” You come up beside her, placing your hands on the rail. Your voice breaks as you speak, tearing you into two. “I.. I know how this looks.” 

She stays silent, taking another drag from her cigarette. 

“But I care about Cassie. And she cares about me.” You take a deep breath. “And we weren’t hiding this from you. I swear. It just happened last night. It happened so fast. But I don’t regret it. I’ve known her all my life and that sounds shitty when I say it out loud, but that just means I trust her. And if this happening means I lose your respect, then I’ll do everything to earn it back. I love you and you’re the most important person in my life. And.. if this happening also means you hate me then.. I’m sorry.” 

Your voice breaks to the point it’s almost hard to understand you. 

When you look up, your mom looks heartbroken, staring back down at you, cigarette long forgotten.

“Oh, honey.” She pulls you into a hug, her hand in your hair. “I don’t hate you. I would never hate you. For anything.” 

“I’m so sorry.” You cry. 

“It’s just.. it surprised me, is all.” She says when you lean back up. “I think.. I’ve always known you were drawn to Cassie in a way that wasn’t maternal.” 

“Really?” You ask. 

“It just caught me off guard, is all.” She nods. “She’s my best friend. And you’re half her age. It’s a lot.” 

“I know, I know.” You nod multiple times, closing your eyes. “I know how it looks. But I care about her a lot and I don’t want any of us to have problems. If you don’t want me to see Cassie you can tell me.” 

“Does she make you happy?” She raises her eyebrows. 

“Yes. So happy. I had more fun in the past three days than I have in the past six months.” 

“Then that’s what matters.” She pulls you into another hug. “Now let’s go back in there.” 

“Okay.” You say. 

You open the door, holding it for your mom, seeing Cassie standing in the kitchen area, expecting. 

“We’re all good.” Your mom waves it off. “It’ll be a weird adjustment, but I’ll get used to it. Just remember that the walls are very thin. And I will know

if you’re fuckin’.” 

You burst out laughing. 

“Oh, I know.” Cassie says, boring into the side of your face. 

That makes you freeze, staring over at Cassie with wide eyes. 

“Well.” Your mom claps, trying to save all three of you from an awkward conversation. “How about breakfast? Y’all go get ready. I’ll pick a place.” 

Cassie follows closely behind you, “I heard you, just so you know. That day in the shower.” 

You feel lightheaded as you make your way to your room to change, coming back out to meet Cassie in the hall. 

“You can’t just.. say that.” You whisper. 

“What? It was cute.” She touches your face. “Were you thinking about me?” 

“You’re an asshole.” You swat her hand away. 

“That’s not what you were saying last night.” She smirks. “Be a good girl and don’t keep your mom waiting.” 

She lets you walk in front of her, pulling you against her at the last second to whisper, “If you’re good I’ll let you ride my face again tonight.” 

You blush deeply and walk the rest of the way to the kitchen, pressing your lips together and internally cursing Cassie out in your head as you make the way out the front door. 

The first time Cassie McKay sees you, you’re backing through the ambulance bay doors with both hands locked around the frame of a stretcher.

“Fifty-eight-year-old male, sudden onset substernal chest pressure while carrying boxes upstairs,” you say as the wheels strike the seam between pavement and tile. Your voice stays level despite the movement around you. “Diaphoretic and nauseated on arrival. Twelve-lead shows elevation in II, III, and aVF. He’s had three hundred twenty-four milligrams of aspirin. Pressure dropped to ninety-two systolic after one dose of nitro, so we held the second. Two large-bore IVs, no known allergies.”

Cassie falls into step beside you, one hand closing around the stretcher rail while her eyes move from the monitor to the patient. “Mr. Daley, I’m Dr. McKay. We’re taking you straight back.”

The patient turns his gray face toward her. “Am I having a heart attack?”

“I think you might be,” Cassie tells him. She doesn’t soften the truth, but her thumb presses briefly against the back of his hand. “You got help quickly. Your paramedics did exactly what you needed, and we’re already moving.”

You look at her then.

Most doctors meet your eyes during a handoff because they’re listening for information. Cassie meets yours like she’s making sure you’re still included in the room after your part is technically finished. Her gaze is direct, dark, and strangely steady in the noise of the Pitt.

Your next sentence catches in your throat.

“Last pressure was ninety-six over sixty-two,” you manage. You hand her the printed rhythm strip, careful not to let your gloves brush her fingers. “No change in pain.”

“Got it.” Cassie glances at the strip, then back at you. “Good catch.”

It shouldn’t matter. You hear some version of it every shift from nurses, residents, and attending physicians. You give a short nod, help transfer the patient, collect the sheet from your stretcher, and leave while the cath lab activation unfolds behind you.

Your partner catches the ambulance doors before they close. “You coming?”

“Yeah.” You drag your gaze away from the trauma bay. “Of course.”

The doors swing shut behind you.

The second time Cassie sees you, you’ve got rainwater dripping from the ends of your hair and a six-year-old girl sitting upright on the stretcher with an oxygen mask over her face.

“Known asthma,” you report as Cassie approaches. “Two days of upper respiratory symptoms. Her inhaler wasn’t helping tonight. Initial saturation was 87% on room air, with diffuse inspiratory and expiratory wheezing. She’s had two albuterol and ipratropium treatments and oral dexamethasone. She’s at ninety-five percent now, and air movement has improved.”

The little girl reaches for your sleeve when you begin stepping away.

You stop immediately. “I’m still here, sweetheart.”

Cassie notices the change in your voice. It’s the same voice, but its edges have lowered. You crouch until you’re level with the girl’s frightened eyes, one knee pressed to the wet floor.

“This is Dr. McKay,” you tell her. You angle your body so the child can see Cassie without losing sight of you. “She’s going to listen to your lungs and help you keep breathing easier.”

The girl studies Cassie over the clear plastic mask. “Does she give shots?”

Cassie pulls the stethoscope from around her neck and sits on the low stool rather than towering over the stretcher. “Only when I have to. I’m much more interested in borrowing your lungs for a minute.”

The child’s eyebrows pinch together. “You can’t borrow lungs.”

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.” Cassie warms the stethoscope diaphragm between her palms. “Can I listen to yours instead?”

The girl nods.

You stay while Cassie examines her, although your partner has already stripped the used linens and replaced the oxygen cylinder. When Cassie finishes, you squeeze the girl’s hand and promise that her mother is right behind the ambulance in a car.

At the curtain, Cassie catches you with a quiet, “Hey.”

You turn too quickly. “Yeah?”

“What’s your name?” She taps the side of her own chest. “Your radio strap keeps covering the badge.”

You tell her.

Cassie repeats it once, like she’s checking the pronunciation. Then her mouth curves into a tired smile. “I’m Cassie.”

“I know.”

The answer comes out before you can stop it.

Her smile deepens. “Right. The doctor introduction. That would explain it.”

Heat crawls beneath your collar. “That’s definitely why.”

Your partner calls for you from the hall. You lift one hand in an awkward farewell and follow the empty stretcher back through the doors.

Cassie watches you go.

After that, your arrivals develop a rhythm that only makes sense if no one looks at it too closely.

You come in three times during one of Cassie’s shifts. The first time, you bring an older woman with a fractured wrist. The second, a college student who fainted after donating blood and then tried to walk home without eating. The third, a man with a deep laceration across his palm from attempting to repair a lawn mower while it was still running.

“You again,” Cassie says when you wheel the third patient into a treatment space.

You set the brake and glance over the stretcher. “You say that like I brought him here personally.”

The man lifts his uninjured hand. “This was mostly my fault.”

“Mostly?” Cassie raises her eyebrows while pulling on gloves.

“The mower started it.” He gestures toward you. “She said you people could sew my hand back on.”

“I said we’d have someone evaluate the injury,” you correct. You unwind the outer layer of blood-speckled gauze enough for Cassie to see the wound. “Distal circulation, sensation, and movement are intact. Bleeding controlled with direct pressure. Tetanus status unknown.”

Cassie leans closer without disturbing the dressing. “The good news is that your hand is still attached. I’m going to work very hard to keep it that way.”

The patient exhales. “See? She’s less scary than you.”

You rest one hand against your chest. “That’s devastating.”

Cassie’s laugh surprises both of you. It’s low and brief, worn thin by the shift, but it makes warmth spread beneath your sternum.

You leave smiling.

Then Cassie doesn’t see you for eleven days.

She notices by the third.

On the fifth, she looks toward the ambulance entrance every time the alert phone rings. On the seventh, Dana catches her standing at the central desk with a chart open and her attention fixed on two unfamiliar paramedics rolling an empty stretcher toward the exit.

“Lose something?” Dana asks. She keeps typing as she speaks.

Cassie looks down at the chart. “No.”

“Then I’m sure the ambulance bay appreciates your supervision.”

Cassie leans one hip against the desk. “Do different crews rotate through different hospitals?”

Dana’s hands pause over the keyboard. She looks up slowly. “Are you asking me to explain emergency medical services to you?”

“I understand emergency medical services.” Cassie folds her arms. “I’m asking about receiving patterns.”

“Units post in different zones. Calls take them wherever calls take them. Patients have destination preferences. Hospitals go on diversion.” Dana studies her for another moment. “And paramedics occasionally get days off, despite our best efforts.”

“That’s all I was asking.”

“Sure.” Dana returns to the chart. “Which paramedic?”

Cassie pushes away from the desk. “I have patients.”

“They’ll be relieved to hear it.”

You return on the twelfth day with a cup of gas-station coffee in one hand and no patient in front of you.

Cassie’s relief arrives so quickly that it irritates her.

You spot her near the charge desk and change direction. For one hopeful second, she thinks you came inside to see her. Then you hold out a folded piece of paper.

“We found this under the stretcher mattress,” you say. “It belongs with the chart for the lawn mower guy.”

Cassie takes the form. “You disappeared.”

Your fingers remain on the edge of the paper for a second too long. “I did?”

“You were here three times in one day, and then you weren’t here at all.” Cassie releases the form when you do. “I was starting to think you’d been reassigned to a different dimension.”

You smile into the rim of your cup. “Four days off. Then three night shifts. We transported mostly to Mercy and Allegheny General.”

“So there is a system.”

“There’s an attempt at one.” You take a sip, then wince at the taste. “Why? Did you miss me?”

Cassie’s expression stills.

The question was meant to be teasing. You hear that only after it’s out, when your own pulse begins beating in your ears.

“I noticed,” she says.

Something in the quiet answer makes it hard to breathe normally.

You crush the paper cup slightly between your fingers. “Well, now you know I’m alive.”

“That’s useful information.” Cassie’s gaze drops to your hand. “Your coffee might not be.”

“It’s terrible.”

“You keep drinking it.”

“I make a lot of questionable choices at work.” You step backward before your face can reveal more than you understand. “I should get back to the truck.”

Cassie watches the doors close behind you again.

This time, she looks less perplexed by the leaving than by the fact that you’d come in at all.

You’ve always been straight.

The statement has the familiarity of an address you learned as a child. You’ve repeated it without needing to inspect it. You dated boys in high school, men after that, and once spent nearly four years building a life with someone you assumed you’d marry. None of it felt false. Some of it had even been good.

Straight is the word you’ve always used, so straight is the word that should continue working.

It becomes less useful every time Cassie McKay looks at you.

You try replacing attraction with admiration. Admiration explains why you notice the patience in her voice when a frightened patient lashes out. It explains why you remember the loose strand of hair she tucks behind her ear while she reads an ECG. It might even explain why her praise settles somewhere deeper than professional approval should.

It doesn’t explain why you think about her mouth.

That realization arrives in the cab of the ambulance at two in the morning while your partner sleeps in the passenger seat and rain ticks softly against the windshield.

You stare at the dark entrance of a closed pharmacy across the street.

“Oh,” you whisper.

The word fogs a small patch of glass.

After that, you become terrible at being around her.

You’re warm one day and distant the next. You seek Cassie out after a handoff, then escape the moment she gives you her full attention. When she asks whether you’ve eaten, you answer with a detailed description of the protein bar in your pocket as if she requested a nutritional assessment. When your hands brush over a clipboard, you nearly drop it.

Cassie notices every change.

Of course she does.

She lets it continue for two weeks before cornering you in the ambulance bay after you deliver a stable patient with a dislocated shoulder.

The overhead door rumbles shut behind the departing ambulance. Your empty stretcher stands between you, remade with a clean white sheet. The bay smells like exhaust, rain, and industrial disinfectant.

“Did I do something?” Cassie asks.

You look up from fastening the last strap. “What?”

She slides both hands into the pockets of her white coat. Her posture is casual, but the line between her eyebrows isn’t. “Sometimes you talk to me like we’ve known each other for years. Sometimes you look at me like I’ve caught you committing a crime.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yesterday you saw me in the hall and walked into radiology.”

You pull the blanket straighter. “I could’ve needed radiology.”

“You were carrying three empty oxygen cylinders.”

“Maybe they needed radiology.”

Cassie presses her lips together. The attempt not to laugh makes the concern on her face harder to bear.

You grip the stretcher rail. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Okay.” She draws the word out gently. “Then is this about someone else?”

“No.”

“Is it about work?”

“Not exactly.”

“Do you dislike me?”

Your head comes up. “No.”

The answer is so immediate that it echoes off the concrete walls.

Cassie’s eyebrows lift.

You close your eyes. “That’s the problem.”

Silence settles between the distant monitor alarms and the hiss of rain outside.

When you look again, Cassie hasn’t moved. Her expression has softened, but she doesn’t rescue you from the explanation.

“I’ve always been straight,” you say. The words sound defensive even to you. “I’ve never questioned it. I’ve never had a reason to question it.”

Cassie takes one slow step closer. “And now?”

“Now you keep being here.” You give a helpless gesture toward the emergency department behind her. “Which is unreasonable, because you work here. You’re supposed to be here.”

The corner of her mouth twitches.

“Don’t laugh,” you mutter. Heat spreads across your cheeks. “I’m trying to have a crisis.”

“I’m not laughing.” Cassie’s hands leave her pockets. She rests one palm on the end of the stretcher, still leaving the full length of it between you. “I’m trying not to make your crisis worse.”

“You’re the crisis.”

“That feels like an unfair amount of responsibility.”

A startled laugh escapes you. You lower your forehead to the cool metal rail. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” Her voice becomes quieter. “You don’t have to decide what this means while standing next to an ambulance.”

You lift your head. “You’re not uncomfortable?”

“Because you might be attracted to me?” Cassie considers that with exaggerated solemnity. “I’ve survived more upsetting news.”

Your eyes narrow. “Might be?”

Her smile finally appears. “You walked into radiology to avoid me.”

“Right.” You rub both hands over your face. “Subtle.”

“Not especially.”

The smile fades from her mouth, leaving warmth behind. She traces one finger over a scratch in the stretcher’s metal frame.

“Would you let me buy you coffee?” she asks. “Outside this building. When neither of us is responsible for keeping anyone alive.”

Your heart kicks hard enough to make the bay feel unsteady. “Like a date?”

“Only if you want it to be.” Cassie holds your gaze. “It can also be coffee with someone you find confusing. I’m comfortable being confusing.”

“I noticed.”

“You can say no.”

“I don’t want to say no.” You curl your hands around the rail again. “I’m just not sure what I’m saying yes to.”

Cassie nods, and the absence of disappointment makes your chest ache. “One cup of coffee. One conversation. You don’t owe me a conclusion afterward.”

The ambulance radio crackles from your shoulder, dispatch asking your unit to confirm availability.

You key the microphone and answer automatically. When you release it, Cassie is still waiting.

“One cup,” you say.

Her whole face changes. The smile is small, but delight brightens it from underneath. “I can work with one cup.”

Cassie chooses a diner that’s open all night because neither of your schedules fits conventional meal times.

You arrive first and spend six minutes sitting in your car, questioning every item of clothing you own. Your sweater feels too deliberate. Your jeans feel insufficiently deliberate. You nearly leave twice.

Then Cassie pulls into the space beside you.

She gets out wearing dark jeans, worn boots, and a green jacket over a plain black shirt. Without her scrubs and hospital badge, she looks unfamiliar enough to unsettle you all over again. She spots you through the windshield and raises one hand.

You make yourself open the door.

“Hi,” Cassie says as you meet between the cars. Her hands tuck into her jacket pockets. “You came.”

“You sound surprised.”

“You have a documented history of leaving whenever I look directly at you.”

“That was before you had coffee to use as leverage.”

“Good. I was afraid I’d have to stare at the ground all night.” She turns toward the diner entrance, then glances at you. “Still okay?”

The question is simple. The room it gives you isn’t.

You nod. “Still terrified, but okay.”

“Those can coexist.” Cassie opens the door and holds it for you. “I learned that in medical school.”

The diner is nearly empty. A jukebox glows in one corner, and the air smells like coffee, syrup, and fries that have soaked into the building over several decades. You choose a booth near the window.

Cassie waits until you sit before sliding onto the opposite bench. She picks up the laminated menu, studies it for three seconds, and puts it down.

“You already know what you want,” you say.

“I’ve been here after enough night shifts to have a standing order.”

“Then why open the menu?”

“I wanted to look adaptable.” She folds her hands on the table. “Did it work?”

“Not even slightly.”

“That’s disappointing.”

Your nervousness loosens enough for you to smile.

After you order, the server leaves two mugs and a bowl of creamers on the table. Cassie wraps both hands around her coffee but doesn’t drink.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she says.

You peel the paper from a creamer. “It’s the only reason we’re here.”

“I thought we were here because my workplace coffee could dissolve surgical instruments.”

“That too.” You pour the cream and watch pale clouds turn through the dark surface. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Cassie lifts her mug. “Drink coffee?”

“Go on a date with a woman.”

She takes a careful sip before answering. “It’s a lot like going on a date with anyone else. We talk. We figure out whether we like each other when nobody’s bleeding.”

“I already like you.”

The words slip out softly.

Cassie lowers the mug. Her thumb moves once over the ceramic handle. “I already like you too.”

The quiet certainty in her voice settles your nerves more effectively than reassurance would have.

You look through the window at the wet parking lot. “I keep feeling like I should have known.”

“Known what?”

“That I could feel this way about a woman.” Your finger follows a drop of condensation down the side of your water glass. “People talk about figuring themselves out like the answer was always waiting for them. Like they look backward, and every part of their life suddenly makes sense. I look backward and mostly see men I genuinely cared about.”

Cassie leans one forearm against the table. “That doesn’t become untrue because you’re sitting here with me.”

“Then what does this make me?”

“Someone sitting in a diner with me.” Her gaze remains steady when you look at her. “Anything beyond that is yours to name, if you ever want to.”

You study her face. “You really don’t need me to know?”

“I need you to be honest with me.” Cassie’s fingers tighten slightly around her cup. “I don’t need you to produce a label so I can feel secure about one date.”

There’s history in the careful way she says it, something learned through years that didn’t unfold neatly. She doesn’t offer the history as a lesson or make your uncertainty about herself.

You reach across the table before you can overthink it. Your fingertips stop beside her hand rather than covering it.

“I’m attracted to you,” you say. Your pulse flutters at the base of your throat. “I know that much.”

Cassie looks down at the small distance between your hands. “That’s useful information.”

“You said that when I told you I was alive.”

“Both facts matter to me.”

You turn your palm upward.

Cassie pauses long enough to let the choice remain yours. Then she places her hand in it.

Her fingers are warm. There’s a faint indentation near one knuckle from hours spent in gloves. You close your hand carefully, as though the gesture might startle either of you.

It doesn’t feel like an answer.

It feels better than one.

The food arrives, and conversation gradually moves into safer territory. Cassie tells you about starting medicine at an age when most of her classmates seemed offensively well-rested. You tell her about the first call of your career, when you forgot the apartment number before reaching the second floor and had to run back outside to check.

“You abandoned the patient?” Cassie asks. She points a fry at you, scandalized.

“For eight seconds. My preceptor was already upstairs.” You dip a fry into ketchup. “I spent the rest of the call pretending I’d returned to the ambulance for clinically significant equipment.”

“What equipment?”

“A pen.”

Cassie laughs, head tipping forward until her hair falls across one cheek. You stare, then remember that staring is something people can see.

She tucks the hair back. “There it is.”

“What?”

“The look that sends you into radiology.”

You cover your eyes with one hand. “I’m never recovering from that.”

“Probably not.” Her boot nudges yours beneath the table. “I might let you build new material.”

By the time the plates are cleared, two hours have passed.

Neither of you mentions that one cup of coffee became refills, fries, pie, and the slow discovery that silence between you doesn’t need to be filled immediately.

Outside, the rain has stopped. The parking lot reflects the diner’s blue and pink lights in broken patches. You stand beside your car while Cassie rocks once on her heels, suddenly less composed than she was across the table.

“How was your first date with a woman?” she asks.

You rest your hip against the driver’s door. “I don’t have enough comparative data.”

“Very scientific.”

“I might need a second trial.”

Cassie’s breath catches. Her smile arrives slowly. “For accuracy.”

“Obviously.”

She steps closer, stopping with enough space between you that the choice is visible. “Can I kiss you?”

Fear moves through you first. It isn’t disgust or regret. It’s the sharp awareness that something you considered fixed is about to become real in a new way.

Cassie sees the hesitation and begins to step back.

You catch the sleeve of her jacket.

“I’m scared,” you admit. Your fingers tighten in the fabric. “I still want you to.”

Her expression softens. “Those can coexist.”

Cassie lifts one hand and waits until you lean into it before touching your cheek. Her palm is warm from the diner. Her thumb rests near the corner of your mouth.

The kiss is gentle and brief.

Nothing in the world rearranges itself. The pavement stays wet beneath your shoes. A truck passes on the road. The diner’s sign continues buzzing overhead.

Still, when Cassie draws back, your hand remains curled in her jacket, and your whole body feels startlingly awake.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Concern flickers across her face. “Okay good or okay bad?”

You look at her mouth, then meet her eyes. “I’m going to need more data.”

Cassie laughs, relief warming the sound. She presses her forehead lightly to yours. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Your radio is silent in the car. Her pager is quiet at her waist. For once, neither of you is being called through a set of doors.

You don’t know what word you’ll use tomorrow. You don’t know whether the second date will become a third, or how this will fit around twelve-hour shifts, Harrison, missed meals, and the kind of work that can change a person before breakfast.

You only know Cassie is standing close enough for you to feel her breath, and you aren’t looking for an exit.

When she asks whether she can call you, you say yes.

It isn’t a conclusion.

It’s an opening.

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