Defining Love: Volume 1 (Defining Love #1)
We made it all the way outside, and she still hadn’t let go of my hand. As we made our way down the stairs, she laced her fingers through mine, and immediately my heart began to thud.
“Did you wanna hang out longer?” she asked.
I shook my head quickly, and then our eyes met as they had so many times since the night we’d kissed. My heartbeat sped up even more. “No, I was getting pretty buzzed. I’m not looking to ruin my entire day tomorrow like I did the day after the last party.”
She squeezed my hand, and I took in a deep breath, trying not to make too much of her hand in mine. It was cold out and late. Maybe she just remembered we’d held hands on the way home last time and she didn’t think there was anything weird about doing it again.
It was too cold to take my boots off this time, so I endured the walk home wearing them, but when we got to the bottom of the stairs of our apartment, I stopped and took them off. Edi stopped and waited for me. When I straightened up, I looked up at her, and our eyes met in that way that made my insides feel so strange. Neither of us moved until she took a step forward, staring at my lips.
She hesitated for a moment, and suddenly I remembered what she’d said last time when I kissed her here at the apartment.
“You’re drunk.”
She was still staring at my lips, and the words came out without thought. “I’m not drunk.”
Bringing her hands to my face, she kissed me softly. I’m not gay. My brain kept saying even as I opened my mouth, encouraging her to kiss me deeper. She did, and I moaned against her lips. I was buzzed but not that buzzed. I couldn’t blame it on the alcohol tomorrow. I didn’t understand it, but I needed this. And I’d very likely remember all of this. In fact, the enormity of this was sobering me up fast. The longer she kissed me, the more my entire body begged her not to stop. Then she did and stared at me.
“I want you to remember this tomorrow,” she whispered.
“I will,” I whispered back anxiously even as my head screamed what are you thinking?
She took my hand and we headed up stairs. Suddenly, I was terrified. What was I doing? Would we just kiss some more inside or . . .?
I am not gay!
Then why did the thought of her doing more to me excite me as much as it terrified me? We got inside, and she closed the door, pushing me gently against it, then brought her hand around my neck and kissed me again, this time more crazed than outside. I wrapped my arms around her waist, unable to hold back anymore.
The burning question came to me again. Was this a first for her too? Then I remembered Delena, the irritating girl on Edi’s high-school volleyball team who always seemed a little too touchy feely around Edi. I had to know now. I pulled away, gasping for air, and she stared at me.
“Am I the first girl you’ve ever kissed,” I asked, afraid of the answer.
Already the thought of her kissing another girl made me insane with jealously. But this was crazy. Why hadn’t it bothered me to see her with boys?
“You really don’t remember anything I told you last time?”
I felt my eyes open wide, and my heartbeat doubled over for another reason. “What did you tell me?”
“You asked the same thing then.”
I waited, but she didn’t say more. “And what was your answer?”
She shook her head slowly, staring deep in my eyes.
“Who?” My demanding tone surprised me.
She smiled, kissing me again, and I ran my hands up and down her firm body then felt her hand run down the side of mine slowly. She brought her hand down and stopped just before slipping it between my legs.
“Do you remember wanting me to touch you?” she whispered, staring deep in my eyes.
With a trembling breath, I shook my head, feeling the mortification wash over me again as it had all those weeks after that night. “I did?” I managed to ask.
She nodded again, staring deep into my eyes. “Do you still want me to?”
Trying to take control of my breathing, I had to think about it for a moment. “Yes,” I finally whispered.
“You’re not gonna regret this tomorrow?”
Already my conflicted insides were screaming at each other, but the one inner protest that prevailed loudest screamed that I would, regardless of my answer, so I may as well do it. I couldn’t even respond, so I closed my eyes and shook my head.
She leaned her body up against mine, taking my mouth in hers again. I could barely contain myself as my entire body began trembling. “Do you remember what else you wanted me to do to you?” she said against my mouth, and I froze. “It’s okay,” she said, bringing her hand up and slipping it into my leggings and under my panties, making my breath catch as her fingers made their way down to there.
Edi was good at this. She was so good at it I knew without asking this was something else that wasn’t her first time. She’d only been at it for a few seconds, and already I felt as if I would explode at any moment.
“Oh!” I cried out loudly against her mouth, my entire lower half of my body going weak. She latched on again continuing to kiss me as my entire body came alive. “Oooh!”
I swayed my hips, trying to stay in control because I didn’t want it to be over. Moving my mouth away from hers in a desperate attempt to catch my breath, I gasped for air, and she sucked my neck just at the moment the incredible build up exploded and I cried out in pleasure. As if she knew the exact instant I needed her to stop, she did, and we both stood there silently as I struggled to calm my once again contradicting emotions.
“Doing that to you felt as incredible as I always imagined,” she whispered against my ear.
Standing there, breathing hard, coming down from the high of my orgasm, my head cleared fast. This was not the first time Edi had done this. As good as I always imagined? How long had she been imagining doing this to me? And how many others had she done this to? Was beautiful girlie Edi really gay? I gulped, afraid to ask, and then she kissed me again. “You better remember that tomorrow,” she said, pulling away but tugging my hand.
We walked to the chair bed I slept on in our small living room. Because her parents were paying the rent, I’d insisted Edi take the only bedroom in the small bachelor apartment. She started opening the chair bed for me. I stood there next to her, unable to think of a single thing to say. This was already starting to feel awkward, and I knew tomorrow would be worse once I was completely sober. What had we done? Was this a onetime deal like we’d said last time? Now she wanted me to remember this tomorrow? Why?
My suddenly terrified heart pounded. Was she expecting this to change things between us? How could I be so stupid? How could I let myself give into the heat of the moment without thinking about the big picture—how big a risk this was?
She must’ve noticed the change in my demeanor because she turned to me and smiled nervously. “Don’t think about what just happened too much.” The usual confident Edi I knew slipped for an instant, and she looked too nervous—almost as terrified as I felt. Then she smiled again. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said, pecking me softly. “For now, get some sleep.”
I lay there, even as my body still tingled from what had just happened. My lips still tasted of her, and I couldn’t sleep. The reality was sinking in fast. Everything that she’d just told me without saying hardly anything was too much. She’d said little, but her actions had spoken volumes.
Tomorrow morning she’d be gone to her practice most of the day, and I’d be left here to wonder what to make of all this: if and how this changed things between us. Regardless of her sexual preference, which was all too clear now, everything suddenly made sense. I still wanted her—needed her—in my life. I didn’t want this to change things.
The light in the kitchen turned on, and I heard the refrigerator open. We’d both been drinking tonight, but like me after what had happened tonight, I was certain she’d sobered up too.
“Edi?” I called out as I sat up on my bed, my heart beating faster already.
She ambled
to the doorway of the front room, holding a Gatorade, and leaned against it. “Yeah?”
She sounded as unsure as I did, but I needed to talk about this. This wasn’t like last time. We’d both known exactly what we we’d been doing, and she’d admitted this wasn’t her first time.
“I can’t sleep. Can we talk?”
She shuffled over slowly to the small loveseat across from my bed and sat down, crossing her legs under her. One of the things I’d admired about Edi since day one was her self-confidence. It was refreshing, not annoying like some self-confident people could be. Right now she looked anything but confident. For once, she seemed as nervous as I felt.
“Talk,” she said simply then glanced down her bottle of Gatorade and fidgeted with the paper wrapping around it.
“Are you gay?” I asked, my heart at my throat.
She nodded without looking up.
Even though I already knew the answer, it still stunned me. A part of me thought she might say she was bi or just liked experimenting. I was still holding out hope for the possibility that, like me, this was an exception she’d made just for me. Maybe when she said she’d done it before it was just an experience she’d had one time long ago. Anything but gay. That felt so . . . final.
“How long?” I asked.
Finally looking up, she smiled. “My whole life.”
“But . . .” I stopped, not sure what I wanted to say. That shouldn’t surprise me. I’d read up enough about this. Most gay people did know all their life. I guess I was hurt. I thought we were so close. “Why hadn’t you told me?”
“In high school, only a couple of people knew. And I only came out to my parents at the end of senior year. I didn’t wanna tell you because I was afraid to.”
“Why?” I felt a lump at my throat, and my lip begin to quiver. “I would’ve accepted you.”
She tilted her head, lifting her brow questionably. “Accepted me?”
“You know what I mean,” I said quickly. “I mean it wouldn’t matter to me. You’re my best friend, no matter what.”
She stared at me for a moment then looked back down at her Gatorade, fidgeting again. “But you’re not gay . . . right?”
The fear inundated me. Was she saying, if I wasn’t, we couldn’t be friends? I gulped hard, feeling that familiar dread I felt so many times since I’d met Edi. The dread of losing her. “Why? Does that matter?”
Her head jerked up and she shook it. “No, it doesn’t. I just wanted to be sure. I’ve always wondered. Then that night at the party happened and tonight . . .”
Feeling embarrassed and then ashamed, I tried to think of the perfect thing to say, but I couldn’t. “I enjoyed it,” I whispered.
“That doesn’t mean you’re gay, Henri.”
Her words felt heavy as though maybe she was hoping they weren’t true, but they were. We both knew it. I almost wished I were if it would make her happy. But as much as I’d enjoyed it, as much I loved Edi—of that I was certain—I wasn’t gay. And that wasn’t how I loved her.
“Your being gay doesn’t change anything between us, Edi.” It was as much a statement as it was a question, and my heart pounded. Just saying it aloud felt surreal. Edi was gay. “You’re still my best friend, and I still love you just the same.”
Her smile was a bittersweet one. “I know,” she said. “And don’t worry. What happened tonight won’t ever happen again. I’m sorry if I went too far. I just . . . I’d been waiting so long to do that. A part of me really thought it never would—it shouldn’t. It’s what the smart part of me always said anyway. But there was another part of me that wanted it to.” Her voice became a whisper suddenly. “So badly.” She shrugged, avoiding my eyes. “So I gave into that part, but I didn’t want the only time it did happen to be one you didn’t remember. I’m sorry.”
I didn’t know what to say, but I knew saying I didn’t mind if it ever happened again would be wrong. I wanted to tell her that I loved her kissing me—that I was beyond flattered that she’d been waiting so long to do it and that, ever since the first time, a part of me had actually been anticipating it happening again—but I couldn’t. I felt so confused, yet somehow something in me knew I shouldn’t say it. And it made my heart ache.
She unfolded her legs slowly and stood. “So now you know,” she said with a faint smile. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”
I stood now too. “Stop apologizing, Edi, please.”
I swallowed back the emotion, not wanting her to see how weak and selfish I was, making this about me. Here she’d shared something so huge about herself with me. I just couldn’t help it. Her somber mood was scaring me. It felt as if this might be the beginning of the end.
“I enjoyed it, Edi. I really did. My not being gay doesn’t take from that. I could be bi,” I offered, feeling desperate suddenly.
She shook her head. “You’re straight, Henri. Don’t confuse things.”
I took a step forward, suddenly needing to touch her, so I reached for her arm. “It’s possible.” I didn’t even know why I was arguing this. I knew I wasn’t. But I was grasping. I wanted so badly for her to understand I still felt the same for her. This changed nothing. “It wouldn’t be such a bad thing if it happened again.”
Again she shook her head, but this time she smiled. It was less somber than earlier, but it still wasn’t her usual bright smile. She kissed my forehead. “You’re straight, babe. And saying I enjoyed kissing you, too, is an understatement of epic proportions, but trust me. It’s not happening again.”
She walked away and I got back in bed. Something about that kiss on the forehead felt like a goodbye kiss. Maybe not to me but to our friendship as we knew it. She’d been out to her parents since senior year, and told other friends but not me her best friend? Because she’d been afraid? Afraid of what? I almost got up to ask her, but I stopped. The thought of what the answer might be was terrifying. Was she afraid of the very thing I was fearing? That her coming out would change things between us?
It shouldn’t. It wouldn’t. We wouldn’t let it happen.
As much as I wanted to believe that and as much as I knew I’d fight tooth and nail before I’d lose Edi, I still cried myself to sleep.
~~~
To my relief the only thing strange about the next day was that Edi had gotten up to leave for practice earlier than I had expected her to. Before I’d woken. I shrugged away the worrisome thoughts that already she’d begun to avoid me. When she got home late that night, I’d been even more alarmed when I could tell she’d been crying.
In all the years I’d known Edi, I’d never seen her cry.
It terrified me. But she explained she’d just had a hard day at practice and the coach had been especially tough on the team, coming down extra hard on her toward the end and it got to her. While I was furious with her coach, I was beyond relieved to hear it had nothing to do with our talk the night before.
As the weeks passed, my concern about our relationship went up and down. She was spending a whole lot of time around her teammate friends. A lot more time with Astrid and less with me. It spiked my paranoia. But when she was around me, it didn’t feel awkward or strange, so I told myself that was a good thing. Then, finally, when the team took the state championship, she actually invited me to go out with her and her friends to celebrate.
I took it as progress. This was the first time I’d been invited into her world, and I suddenly knew why she’d never brought me around before. She and Astrid were undeniably closer than what I had feared. I felt invisible the whole night. I tried to be cool, but by the time we got back to our apartment, I felt ready to explode.
“So, is she your best friend now?”
Edi, who’d been on her way into the kitchen, stopped in her tracks and turned to me. “What?”
“I can see why you never invited me to these gatherings before. With Astrid around, why would you need me there?” My lips quivered, and I felt like the pathetic weak ass bestie I never wanted to be, the s
ide of me I’d never wanted her to see because I knew the moment she did she’d leave me too, but I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Am I being replaced?”
Edi stared at me for a moment without saying anything, and then, to my utter surprise, she rolled her eyes and kept walking to the fridge. “Replace you? Don’t I wish.”
My heart sunk, and the knot in my throat gave way. “You want to replace me?” I asked, my voice going high pitched. Edi spun around from the fridge when she heard my broken words. “Why?” I asked as she rushed to me.
As soon as she reached me, she took my face in her hands and spoke close to my face. “Because I need to.”
I shook my head, not understanding. This was my worst nightmare. “Why?”
“Because you’re straight and—”
“So what!” I retorted loudly, the fear and anger strangling me at the same time. “Why does that matter?”
“Because I’m in love you, Henri,” she said, stunning me silent. “I always have been. I wish to God I could replace you and move on. But, so far, I haven’t been able to. No one even comes close.”
I stared at her, breathing hard. A part of me was enormously relieved and another even more scared now. “Kiss me,” I whispered without thinking, staring at her lips.
“No,” she said immediately, but she didn’t move away or take her hands off my face.
She took a few steps forward, and I took them backwards until she had me up against the wall, but she didn’t kiss me. “Why?” I asked.
“Because I can’t, Henri. As much as I want to”—she took a deep breath closing her eyes—“I shouldn’t.”
“I want you to. I love you too.”
“Don’t say that.” She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter.
“But I do,” I insisted.
“It’s different, Henri,” she said, opening her eyes. “You love me the way best friends are supposed to love each other. Not like I love you.”
My face crumbled. “I don’t want to be replaced.”
She kissed my forehead then my cheeks and around my tearful eyes. I lifted my chin, and she kissed my lips softly. My crying ceased immediately, and I stared at her. She did it again this time longer and slipped her tongue in my mouth. After one very long, very emotional kiss, she stopped and hugged me. “I don’t want to replace my best friend, Henri, but these feelings I have for you need to stop.”