Chapter 2

“So was it a successful test?” I asked.

“Pretty much,” she said. “I need to tweak a few things when I get back.”

“When will that be?” I asked. “You said you’re going to house sit?”

“Yeah, I’ll leave before they’re back from honeymoon,” she said. “I won’t want to be around when they compensate for having non-stop honeymoon sex with non-stop at-home sex.”

My response was an amused grunt. “I’d like to say that Gabby’s calmed down after Anita and Kayla took each other off the market. It wouldn’t really be true, but I’d like to say it anyway.”

Tara narrowed her eyes. “Just what is Gabby’s? It’s an alcohol-free club so that youngsters like me can participate, and Kayla says it’s a safe space, but she seems evasive about it.”

Two goth girls had picked up their coffees and moved to a table nearby, so I lowered my voice further. “You did say you were innocent,” I said. “Your aunt is likely protecting you.”

Tara’s eyebrows rose. “One, she’s not my aunt, and two, what do I need protecting from?”

I took a sip of my latte. “She’s right about it being as inclusive as it can be, and a safe space, but most of the patrons are single and not celibate, so what does that tell you?”

“That it’s a hookup spot?” she suggested.

“Right. It’s a hookup spot where everyone’s sober, no one’s going to spike your drink, and no one’s going to disparage you for your sexuality. Which makes it a great place to pick up girls.”

Tara looked at me thoughtfully. Her lips turned up into a sly smile. “Then when you were coming to ask me to dance…”

My face felt warm. “Like I said, I didn’t know you were eighteen.”

“That’s why you asked if Kayla was scaring the girls away,” she said.

“I’m sure she didn’t want anyone to hit on her barely legal cousin the way she used to,” I said. I hadn’t intended to say that. At least, not that starkly.

“She did?” Tara asked, loud enough for the goth girls to give us a curious look.

“Look, it’s okay,” I said, “it’s all consensual, and everyone’s an adult. I just feel like some of the older girls… some of the older women could have been more selective. When I was your age I was hit on by girls older than Kayla. Mid-twenties, when I was eighteen. I can say no, but I felt uneasy around girls who would do that when I was an innocent teen.”

“Did Kayla hit on you?” Tara asked.

Shaking my head, I said, “No, but…” I sighed. “My ex was infatuated with her for a time. She said it was entirely her choice, but Anita steered her to Kayla, and it was hard not to see it as a double act.”

“How old was she? Your ex, I mean?”

“Same as me. Eighteen. Kayla was two years out of college,” I said. “I wouldn’t have wanted to be in that position, but she got over her crush, and who’s to say it wasn’t what she needed?” I frowned. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but it was a big deal between us, and it wasn’t a secret at the time.”

“Wow,” said Tara. “My Auntie Kay was a lech. Is that why you broke up with your ex?”

I shook my head. “Nah, that was never a problem. Kennedy changed. She became a lot more confident, which wasn’t a bad thing, but she… started to reject what she saw as limitations. She cheated on me. When I found out, she said she’d settled for me too soon. She hadn’t had the range of experiences she could have had. College is a bad time to be monogamous. She embraces the Gabby’s lifestyle now.”

Tara slurped the last of her iced coffee, her straw making an obnoxious sound. She seemed to enjoy being annoying with it. “I think I’d like to go to Gabby’s to meet people,” she said, “but I don’t think I’d want to be like that. But what do I know? And, oh God, Kayla will be there, won’t she? Even when I’m independent. She’s still a regular.”

“It’s easier to get lost in the crowd during term time,” I said, “and she may not be my favorite person, but I don’t think she’s a hypocrite. She won’t cramp your style.”

She moved her left hand over the table, taking my right. I didn’t resist when she interlaced her fingers with mine. “Maybe when I hit on you there you’ll feel less cougary. Since I’ll be a student, too.”

The age difference between a not-quite senior and not-quite first year was feeling less relevant by the minute. I needed to take a step back. “I should, uh, go take care of the things I had to postpone to take the afternoon off.”

It was the least convincing excuse in the history of excuses, and the twitch in her lips told me she knew it.

“Okay,” she said, not releasing my hand. “So when and where shall I meet you tomorrow? I’ll probably be exploring on my own in the morning.”

“Uh, right.” The gardens had slipped my mind. “Here? Meet me at one? I’ll have my car.”

“O-kay,” she sang, earning us another glance from the girls at the nearby table. She released her grip on my fingers. “I’ll see you here.”

“How are you getting back to your hotel?” I asked.

“It’s a bus ride. I know the way.”

“Should I start calling you Auntie Grace?” she retorted. “Yes, I’ll be fine.”

“See you tomorrow, Tara,” I said.

“A domani, Grace!” she replied.

Tara was studying the art wall when I arrived the next day. She saw me enter, smiled, and moved into line. Today’s cashier was Dylan, who had cut her hours down in the last couple of years, so I rarely saw her. Cyndy, the owner, was our barista. Between serving drinks she was checking on supplies, making notes on paper.

“I think I’m going to be spending a lot of time here,” Tara confided as we waited at the counter. Cyndy looked up at that and smiled. “I like to hear that,” she said. “You’re new? I don’t think I’ve seen you here.”

“I’m pre-new,” Tara said. “I’m only visiting, but I’ll be back in a couple of weeks. First year.”

“Bring plenty of cash for the outrageous prices,” I said. Cyndy grinned at me, knowing that I knew she worked hard to hold costs down.

“I don’t care when they have these cute paper coasters,” Tara said, as Cyndy clipped the cover of her iced latte in place, setting it down on a coaster with a straw.

We took our coffees to my car, which wasn’t the greatest vehicle, but I rarely needed it. As I drove, I caught the scents of orange and vanilla. She may have used a little too much perfume, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

Today’s tee shirt reached her gym shorts. Longer than mine today, since I was wearing a pink crop top with matching skirt. But her neckline was as low as yesterdays, her cleavage still as precisely formed. Her attempts to look seductive for me may have been clumsy, but they were sincere, and because of that, they were having an effect. She seemed in equal parts cute, intelligent, maddening, and sexy. Only occasionally did she seem especially young, and sometimes that was deliberate.

At the gardens, she entered the ticket booth ahead of me, and bought her own ticket, saving me from the decision of whether I should pay for her. I’d suggested the visit, but I hadn’t intended to invite her on a date, and buying her ticket would have made it seem like one. Maybe she understood that.

Still, once we were inside, she slipped her hand into mine. I looked down dubiously at our joined hands. Tara shrugged, grinned, and didn’t let go. So… whatever. If I also liked the feel of her hand in mine, I just wasn’t going to admit it.

“The koi pond is in that direction. Do you want to go there first, or see the ducks and the flowers and leave the fish for last?”

“Yes,” she said, helpfully. I took the comment as meaning the second, and set off for the duck pond. The scents of the floral displays competed with the whiffs of vanilla and orange that drifted my way.

Several ducks chuckled toward us. I pointed at one of the “Do not feed the ducks” signs and asked the ducks if they couldn’t read, which brought a merry laugh from Tara.

“But they’re starving!” she said.

“They’re so not starving that their poop messes up the pond,” I said.

“I thought that was just the scent of nature,” Tara said.

“Duck poop is perfectly natural,” I agreed, “but there’s too much of it for the pond’s ecosystem to handle.”

The walk to the koi pond took us past the coffee kiosk, where I bought her an ice cream. It was the least I could do after not paying for her ticket. Her hand was a little sticky in mine when we continued walking.

Her delight when she saw the fish in the pond was adorable. The water was quite clear, and the koi very active. She dragged me around the path looking for better viewpoints to see them. Some of them were huge. Tara pointed out each monster she saw until I acknowledged that I’d seen it.

When we finally headed to the car I asked if she’d like to stop for pizza. I was still feeling guilty about her paying for her own admission. She readily agreed, so I took her to a pizza place near the hotel.

After pizza, I drove her back to the hotel. In the parking lot she asked if she could make me coffee with the supplies in the room. “It’s not great, but it’s not bad. And it’s included!” she said, eagerly.

“Okay,” I agreed and followed her to her room.

The coffee was, as she said, not great. Not as good as she had expected, judging by her expression. She apologized.

“It’s fine, Tara,” I said. “It’s better than the instant I have at the apartment.”

“But you’re used to the coffee at the coffee shop,” she insisted.

“On a student budget I usually drink terrible coffee,” I said. I took another sip. It wasn’t bad. Her disappointment, I knew, wasn’t directly from the coffee, but from feeling that she’d failed to impress me.

“Listen, Tara,” I said, “the coffee’s okay, but I like the company much better.”

She brightened at that. “I like you, Grace. I want you to like me too, and I don’t want you to think it’s creepy if you do, because it isn’t. I understand why you felt preyed on by older girls, but you’re not like them.”

“I do like you, Tara,” I said, “but I remember how I was at eighteen. I remember how Kennedy was when she was fixated on your cousin.”

“Yeah, but you’re not even her.” She frowned. “Do you think you’re holding Auntie Kay responsible for Kennedy cheating on you? Because she had her first? That has to be entirely on Kennedy, and how long were you together before the cheating happened?”

“A couple of years,” I admitted. “And… I don’t think so?” I thought about it for a moment. “Maybe I associate her with Kennedy. They were friends, even after we started dating. Kayla hasn’t shown any favoritism since the split, but I don’t think I had the same antipathy to her when I was with Kennedy.” I shrugged. “You might be smarter than you look.”

“Hey! Meee-an!” She moved toward me. I took an involuntary step back, then realized I was against the wall when she stopped inside my personal space. She took the hem of my tee between her fingers, looking down as she rubbed it with her thumb. It was an absent gesture, not at all provocative or aggressive. “You’re not grooming me, Grace,” she said. “I like you.” She emphasized the word more than she had earlier. “I think I could like you a lot, if you’d give me a chance.”

“I see,” I said. My heart seemed to be thumping a little too quickly.

Tara looked up from where her fingers were still stroking my top. “I want to kiss you.”

“I don’t know…” I said. I was weakening by the second. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

Tara released the hem of my top, moving her fingers to the narrow band of skin the top revealed, lightly drawing circles on my belly, then moving around to my waist. Her touch and her closeness was turning me on. I didn’t move my lips to hers when she lowered her head, but I didn’t stop her, and I didn’t resist when her lips tried to pry mine apart.

Her kiss wasn’t sophisticated. However much time she’d spent making out with her friend in the closet she’d mentioned, she didn’t seem to have had a lot of experience kissing, but she was enthusiastic. Her tongue pushed into my mouth. Mine met it more as a defense against penetration than as a sensual response, but it still spiked my arousal, and hers, judging by the sounds she made, and the way she moved closer, pushing me back against the wall.

I turned my face to the side, disconnecting my mouth from hers. “Gentle,” I said. “Okay? You’re kissing me, not eating me.”

She grinned. I guess my admission that the kissing would continue counted for more than the reproof. I turned back, allowing her lips to join mine, then parted them again, to close them around her upper lip and suckle gently.

Tara seemed to pick up on the difference in emotional intensity quickly. I heard her breath catch, and she closed her lips around mine, not involving her tongue at all. She could be delicate, when she figured out what it did to her feelings.

Drawing back, I lightly touched my lips against hers, slightly parted. I felt her breath against my lips as she matched my action. Extending my tongue, I lightly licked her upper lip. When she imitated me, I pressed my lips against hers, brushing her tongue with mine.

“Mmmmhhh…” she groaned. Her hands slid around my back, and she pulled me more tightly against her, her breasts pressing into mine.

My hands had dangled at my side for this whole time. Now I moved them to the small of her back, as our mouths moved together, a little further with each motion, the dance of our tongues becoming stronger naturally, rather than just with her thrusting into my mouth.

Moving my face to the side again, I held her close. “Better?” I asked.

“Fuck, yeah,” she breathed. “You’re making me, uh… well, I don’t want to stop yet.”