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It was Ashley's bachelorette party. Drinks had been downed, chocolate peni consumed and a couple of the girls had crawled into bed at three in the morning, while the Good Christian ones had already been asleep by midnight. Becky was still awake, and so was Giada because she had organized everything. Of course she had; she knew every caterer in town, she knew every party planner, and she sure as fuck knew every night club manager. They had hopped from Illusion to Envoy to Gloss, all the coolest places with the most extravagant VIP tables. Great for the socials; glam and happening without being too trashy. Champagne bottles that cost ten thousand dollars, but none of them drunk enough in public to make a fool out of themselves—Giada had been crystal fucking clear on that.
Back in the hotel room, things were different. They could really let their hair down, party and not worry about the rumor mill around town talking about drunken hockey WAGs the following day. Giada had booked the penthouse suite with four rooms and a really nice balcony overlooking the city, where Ashley could have her 'last cigarette of the night' while tearfully calling her fiance Brock to assure him she wasn't busy sucking stripper dick (there were no strippers booked for tonight as Giada thought they were gauche). Ashley was pretty, but model pretty, as Giada sometimes joked. Her eyes were too far apart for the conventional look, and well, everyone else in their group was striving for the conventional look.
Becky fixed her makeup in one of the three bathrooms of the suite, the only one not attached to a bedroom. She walked softly past the room where Dana and Kristen had fallen asleep in, feeling her heels sink into the carpet. Giada had insisted on shoes indoors—"this isn't Canada, girlies"—but the strap against her Achilles tendon was starting to chafe, even though Becky had brought the most comfortable shoes with only two inches of height. Giada sometimes called her 'a tiny rocket', but she almost said it with an air of admiration. To be short was as virtuous for a hockey wife as to adopt rescue dogs or to partner up with a local charity.
Neither of them were hockey wives yet; for Giada, the keyword was precisely yet. Kayden was too into nights out with the boys to settle down and live the 'proper life' as Giada had termed it. Becky had only been dating Mike for three months when she got sucked into the Giadasphere. She'd ascended the ranks with astonishing speed, but she had a little secret: Giada's help. She'd taken Becky in like a stray animal, taken her to the right colorist for the exact right shade of blond, tagged her in the right Instagram posts and catapulted Becky into the inner circle alongside Giada and Stacy, the captain's wife. She had gone from the cute girl next door to a sophisticated babe in no time, thanks almost entirely to her new bestie Giada. Giada herself had gone through a similar shift; from the hopelessly working class Jade to the much more refined and European Giada. With her deep brown eyes, you could almost believe she really was Italian. Becky wasn't entirely sure Giada's fiance knew she actually wasn't.
Becky walked into the living room of the suite and saw Giada there. The glass table in front of her was littered with the remains of the night, little bags of chocolate candy, half-drunk glasses of pink bubbly and tiny white marshmallows.
"Where did Jen and Sofiya disappear to?" Giada asked, sitting on the couch with her shoulders squared like she was still in hosting mode. Giada never slouched.
"Out like a light, both of them," Becky said. "Just the two of us left now." Do you want to go to bed? she might have added, if not for the fact that Giada was looking at her in that intense way of hers, her coffee eyes pinning Becky down onto the plush armchair on the other side of the table.
"An artisan chocolatier in Michigan makes these." Giada had picked up an oval chocolate shape in her dainty hand. Becky had always liked her hands, all soft, cool skin and long fingers. When Giada put a hand on her shoulder, or ran her coffin-shaped nails over Becky's nape to admire the bounciness in her blowout, Becky always had tingles running down her spine. Giada then held the chocolate between two of those perfect fingers. "Isn't that neat? They're so cute, look at them."
Becky assessed the glossy milk chocolate shape, the different layers of the oval made to look like labia, with a tiny bump beneath the top hood for a clitoris. The perfect stylized vagina opening. "Weird," Becky said. She knew it was hypocritical, as she had some hours back nibbled on a chocolate penis happily enough. But chocolate cocks were a thing, and chocolate pussies weren't, probably for a reason.
"Weird?" Giada made a face. "You've got one, too, haven't you? Or does Mike not eat pussy?"
Becky swallowed, her jaw tightening at the turn of this discussion. She licked her lips. "No. He absolutely does." Not well, but she wasn't about to admit to that.
"How?" Giada asked.
"What does that mean?"
"I mean, how does he eat your pussy?" Giada turned the chocolate in her hands and slid it onto one of the paper plates, nudging it towards Becky's corner of the table. "Show me."
Becky could feel the heat bloom on her cheeks. She couldn't possibly, but here was the thing about Giada. She had nearly always done what Giada asked. Even as teenagers, she'd—
She was not a teenager anymore. She was twenty-four fucking years old, and she'd done enough therapy to hold a boundary. She wasn't a people-pleaser like she used to be. She told Mike 'no' all the time, just to test it. Told him no, we're not having sex tonight. No, she was busy and couldn't come to the game. She couldn't spend Thanksgiving with his family because it was too soon. Mike took her boundaries in stride. He never questioned her distance, which allowed her to free even more space between them. They didn't even live together, and sometimes she felt as if she was spending more time with Giada and the other wives and girlfriends than Mike himself. But then—it wasn't her fault he had away games as often as he did. This was just the lifestyle they'd both adopted when they started dating. Him out with the team, her out with the girls. As it should be.
"Come on, show me," Giada urged, and Becky took the chocolate. It was just a joke. A silly little bachelorette party joke. If the girls were all still awake, they'd laugh so hard. Her heartbeat picked up. Just a funny joke with her best friend Giada.
"He kisses my thighs first," Becky said. He didn't, but she wished he did. She didn't want to nag about it every time, so nowadays she rarely even mentioned it. It was far easier to let him do his thing like he always did. She could do her own thing on her own, undisturbed by his desire. "And my tits."
"Does he play with your nipples?" Giada asked. "They like to do that."
They was nearly always how they referred to the boys. Their two worlds, their own and the boys'. Even the wives who ran households with full families knew that the world was split into these two carefully defined spheres until retirement. Sometimes Becky resented Mike for not understanding this crucial difference between her world and his own. He kept trying to crowd in on her space, not realizing that there were good reasons why she kept so many things hidden from him. They were all things he wouldn't understand.
"Sometimes," Becky replied. "I like it, too."
Her nipples peaked as she said that, and she was suddenly very conscious of her flimsy strapless bra underneath the satin cocktail dress she'd worn tonight. The fabric curved beneath her bosom, clung onto the tops, but if she breathed a little harder, a little more labored, the mass of them pushed above the cleavage line, making two soft hills. She had noticed Giada looking at them while they were partying in Gloss and Becky was catching her breath after dancing. Then again, that could have been nothing. Giada's eyes were always assessing her.
"Bet he gets you so wet before he starts," Giada said, like it was a fact she had known her whole life, although her voice was sounding a little breathier than usual. "He teases you with his hands and tongue before he even touches your tight, needy pussy."
"Yeah, he does," Becky agreed, even though none of it was true. Mike did eat her out, he wasn't a monster. But he didn't tease or linger; he was efficient and just wanted to get her off. It wasn't his moral failing. Becky just needed more, like a horrid, greedy bitch. That's why she was flooded now, squeezing her thighs together instinctively as she felt her cunt get wetter and wetter.
"Show me," Giada said softly, and Becky no longer needed much encouraging. She put her lips to the chocolate, kissing the hard lips and imagining them soft, hot and inviting. Imagining the gasp that her tender kiss would get out of the woman she was about to render senseless beneath her mouth. Then she took the first lick, her tongue running up the length of the labia and ending at the tiny, barely-there-promise of a clit at the top.
If this was a real pussy, she'd press her hand so that her fingers could press open the hood and access that sweet, wonderful spot. Right now she could only flick the tip of her tongue against the little nub of chocolate, feeling the warmth of her tongue turn the gloss of the chocolate muddy as it melted. The taste was fine, a bit too sweet for what she liked best. Becky didn't open her eyes yet. Instead she focused on the licking; long licks, teasing and light, followed by hard, purposeful ones, intending to give the girl precisely what she wanted. The chocolate was melting against the warm skin of her palm, and the harder she licked, the more she could feel the chocolate oval slide messily against her hand.
"What makes you come against his mouth?" Giada asked, her voice low. "Does he have to fuck you with his big, wide fingers or suck on your clit until you cry out?"
"No," Becky muttered, her lips stained with chocolate. Her eyes flew open, the wet heat between her legs unbearable, although not as hot as Giada's eyes on her. "What makes me come is when he tells me I'm his girl."
"You're his girl." Giada swallows after the words, audible in the silence around them. "You're my girl, Becky. Like that?" Her voice contained a note of hesitation, so unlike her. Giada didn't hesitate; she just did things, determined that she knew what the right thing to do was instinctively.
"Like that," Becky agreed. Mike had never said it. Giada had. Giada would. In a sense, it was more true for Giada than Mike.
Whose girl was she really?
"You're my girl," Giada said. "You're my girl. Only I can make you come. Like that?"
"Yes," Becky said. Moaned.
"You're my girl," Giada told her and for a moment, she was. Giada's beautiful lips were ajar, her breathing labored. She looked at Becky, and Becky looked at her, and if there wasn't chocolate between them now, who knows what could have happened.
What happened instead was Becky dropping the chocolate back onto the plate and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, leaving behind crumbly little bits of milk chocolate on her skin. "I should go to bed."
"Cool," Giada said brightly, remarkably unaffected. "I'll nap right here. Then we'll start brunch at 10am. Bottomless mimosas if everyone's not too hungover."
"Sounds great," Becky said, even though alcohol was the last thing she felt like drinking at ten in the morning. "Goodnight."
"Oh, and babe?" Giada said before Becky had walked out the room. "Your tits are too big for that dress. I didn't want to say in front of the other girls. You know they can be savages about that sort of thing."
Often it felt more like Giada was the only savage predator among the group, the wolf among the lambs. Becky wanted to be devoured. "Oh really?" she asked lightly. "Thanks for letting me know."
"You're welcome," Giada said and her eyes dipped purposefully at the nipples still puckered beneath the ballerina-shoe pink satin dress Becky had chosen for the occasion. Giada had approved of it beforehand; Becky had snapped a picture of the dress two weeks ago when she'd bought it. But she hadn't been in it at the time. She hadn't thought of sending Giada a picture of her inside the dress. She just hadn't thought it would be necessary. What might have happened, if she had?
In her bed, Becky's fingers worked furiously to get off, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth to stop herself from moaning. She was so close, so gone, she was so wet and she imagined Giada's hands against her skin, Giada playing with her nipples, Giada's voice saying, you're my girl. Her thighs tensed, her whole body rigid as her fingers worked her swollen clit until her world tightened to a single point, then exploded. She was so quiet. She was being so good.
The door was open, and in the corner of her eye, she thought she could see movement there in the afterglow.
Becky is fifteen years old and Jade transfers to her school. In retrospect, she will consider this a momentous occasion in her life. Jade has brown hair that's streaked with black lowlights, which is something only people in cities or on television do. She has a round, pretty face, freckles around her nose and intense brown eyes.
Jade sits next to her in class and nudges her when Becky is falling asleep in algebra. She grins at Becky. "Oh my god, you can't fall asleep in algebra. That's so cliché."
"When am I supposed to fall asleep then?" Becky asks.
"During gym when they make us watch the guys finish up a hockey game before we can all go home."
"I hate hockey."
"Then I guess you must not be lesbian. Or Canadian."
Becky laughs. Of course she's not a lesbian.
Stacy was in charge of handling the WAG jackets. They came in the mail to her house before the first home game at the start of the season, and by game day she had set up a photo shoot in front of the stadium. The jackets were glossy satin, bright red and vibrant. The stitching of the names and numbers was immaculate. Jenni, the only foreigner, ran her French manicured nails over the lettering of her last name, 'TIENSUU', and looked up at Stacy.
"Did you make these yourself?" she asked.
"Oh, Jen," Giada said, sweet and only a little pitying.
Stacy had a momentary pinch between her eyebrows, but it dissolved into a smile. "Come on, girls, group photo time. Wives at the center, girlfriends at the sides."
Becky looked towards Giada to watch her reaction, but Giada was also good at hiding whatever she felt. She looked completely neutral, although Becky could tell it was a practiced neutral. The side effect of having to do what Stacy said, for years. Giada had made it known that she didn't like the stratification—she actually used that word—of wives and girlfriends within the Seattle WAGs. But Stacy had been running things as long as anyone remembered, at least a decade, while her husband had played for the team for nearly thirteen years. Stacy was a hometown girl he'd met during his rookie year and they'd gotten married shortly after.
To Stacy, Giada was nothing but a pretty upstart, who only had one ring on her ring finger; engaged to be married wasn't married, and Stacy knew that. To Giada, Stacy was holding the crown she was coming for and determined to wrench out of Stacy's hands.
Stacy's word remained law, and so she, Jenni, Dana, Chloe, Madison and Kristen made the fabulous center while Giada, Becky, Ashley, Sofiya and Amanda were forced onto the embarrassing sidelines. In a long row of blondes, it was hard to stand out anyway. Becky tried her best to give the photographer her brightest smile all the same. Her hair looked fabulous and Mike's last name, Konopinsky, wasn't the ugliest of the bunch. At least she wasn't saddled with 'Bender' like poor Amanda.
These players got all these stunningly beautiful women to marry them, and then they didn't even have the decency to hand them a great, dignified surname. So many times Becky had shaped her mouth around the name, Rebecca Konopinsky, and it sounded unnatural. Kayden would gift Giada with Richard, which had a certain simplified elegance to it. It sounded French and was the name of English kings. Why couldn't Mike have a name like that?
Eventually they had to stop taking photos because a crowd was gathering. Stacy was all smiles for the fans, but she also let them know they should scatter. "I know you guys don't often see us all in one place, but we're actually quite busy over here. Two guys asked for a photo with her, though, and she agreed immediately.
Another group of fans, an older couple with a teen daughter, wanted to chat to Jenni—they'd come all the way from Finland to watch her husband play tonight. Jenni chatted to them happily. She seemed to come alive when speaking her native language, her hands gesturing and her laugh punctuating each thing that came out of her mouth. Normally Jenni was the most subdued out of them.
The rest of them weren't famous like Stacy, and Becky didn't want to be. Two of her biggest nightmares—being forced to carry Mike's overly long Polish last name, and being recognized on the street.
"These are so cute," Giada said to Becky, her hand running down the sleeve of Becky's bomber jacket. "Stacy did such a good job."
Becky snorted. "Mrs 29 really delivered, for sure."
"Do you want to get a massage together?" Giada asked. Her hands crept up on both of Becky's shoulders. Giada was taller than her by a couple of inches, even in flats.
Becky focused on breathing. In and out. Giada's fingertips at her clavicle bone, stroking her over the satin. "I've got work."
"Ugh, work." Giada had stopped working at the ad agency she'd worked with for years after she moved in with Kayden. A lot of the girls didn't have to work, though some of them still wanted to, even if it was just social media and their own boutique business. It was good for their individual brands to do something, to keep busy. Any of the boys might have to retire early.
"Who was that?" Becky asked when Jenni joined their group, her cheeks looking flushed while her face remained split into a wide smile.
"The parents of my high school crush from my hometown," Jenni said. "Can you believe it? I thought that guy was my first love. Before Mikko, obviously." Her smile faded.
"Crazy coincidence," Giada said lightly. "I would love to meet my first love. I'm so much hotter now than I was in high school." Her fingers tightened on Becky's shoulders.
Jenni shrugged and laughed, seeming unsure what to say. She was a nice girl, but closed off, Giada had always said to Becky. It may have been an unspoken cultural difference, or just her personality. Neither of them investigated the mystery of Jenni further. They contained enough mystery among themselves.
"Crazy, yeah," Becky agreed. "Let's get a quick coffee," she added to Giada.
"You want to join us, Jen?" Giada asked. She was a true friend, never excluding anyone from the group. When the power shift would eventually happen, it wouldn't be wives in the middle, girlfriends and fiancees at the side. It would be a true revolution, Becky thought.
"No, I am meeting Mikko before the game." Jenni shook her head. Her nose scrunched as she smiled at them. "You guys are always together, aren't you?"
"She's my girl," Giada said, voice lilting up and her fingers slid down Becky's shoulders. Becky's skin turned to gooseflesh from the touch.
The following weeks she learns new things about Jade. Jade likes makeup. Jade likes playing hockey, but she'd never pursue it as a career because she wants to make money, actual money, and hockey players don't make that kind of money if they happen to be women. Her clothes are all secondhand, but this somehow only makes her cooler. Jade has a brother, who also plays hockey. She has parents who argue a lot, and Jade likes to go to the library just to get out of the house sometimes. "But not to read," she tells Becky. "I just count the books on the shelves and go home."
Becky worked at a t-shirt printing company. Most shifts she worked on the shop floor, where they sold a bunch of designs as well as offered a place where customers could place their own custom orders, but her favorite shifts were at the back where she got to just zone out and print, shirt after shirt. There was something meditative about the task. That's what she was doing today, just adjusting the machine to the next design, printing the shirt and moving onto the next task. And thinking. This was her favorite activity at work, because it allowed her to think.
The print shop was was where she met Mike, who visited the shop twice before asking her out. This was where she met Giada for the first time.
Giada had walked in with Kayden and said, "This place is so cute!" and smiled at Becky like it had been a personal accomplishment of hers that the shop she worked at was so adorable.
"Glad you like it," Becky's said while Kayden had looked at her tits.
"I'm Giada, nice to meet you." She'd offered a hand and Becky had taken it. They both made such a good pretense of meeting for the first time, Becky almost believed Giada didn't remember.
But Giada did remember. "You went to Vassar, right?" she'd asked without Becky ever mentioning it to her. Becky knew Mike hadn't mentioned it, either. Why would he remember that kind of thing? "You're from Minnesota originally, right?" Giada had asked without it ever coming up. "Becky has no brothers and sisters," she'd told Mike, when he'd asked Becky about it.
Because she knew, and Becky knew, too. But neither of them could just say it, and so there it remained, between them. Becky liked it. Nobody else had to know.
Her phone started buzzing all of a sudden. One message, then another, then a bunch until it was vibrating nonstop against her thigh. She fished it out of her pocket and saw the group chat blowing up with the latest trade news. Dana's husband Will had just been traded to Pittsburgh. Just like that. She'd already called the moving company and was arranging everything to be done as soon as possible. Will was flying out tonight. Everyone posted sad emojis, hearts breaking and tears rolling down yellow emoji cheeks. Becky wrote her own message of condolence in a private message to Dana—who had already been jettisoned from the group chat the moment the news hit—and sent it off, hoping it sounded sincere enough.
"I'll definitely try to keep in touch with her, she was such a gem," Stacy wrote, but they all knew it was a useless nicety. Dana would join a new group of WAGs and soon be forgotten. Pittsburgh wasn't even in the same conference as their team. They wouldn't see her again.
Just like that, she had been pulled away cruelly by the whims of the hockey team. It seemed so unfair to Becky, although looking back now, Dana had seemed a little bit distant this season. Perhaps on some level she sensed or even knew a trade might be in the cards for her husband.
Becky's eyes began to sting and she blinked, focusing on keeping it together. She knew their lives would always be inextricably linked with the fates of the boys. If they got traded, the women went with them. What if Mike got traded? He wasn't a superstar for the team. Sure, he had a four year deal now, just like Kayden was signed for five, but fates changed all the time.
She couldn't risk it, not after all this time. She needed to do something.
Becky worked and thought, worked and thought further, until a plan started coming together in her head.
Jade flatters her, but in ways that most people never do. A lot of her friends say that Becky is kind or funny or something plain and asinine like that. Jade tells her she's so perceptive about people it could eventually cost her, which feels painfully true, like a secret talent and wound Becky has never known about before.
Jade also tells her that her boobs are way too big for her body. "You're going to get back problems."
Becky immediately straightens her back, but Jade looks at her with pity. "Oh, don't worry, babe. Posture is a fake science."
Jade always has perfect posture.
The boys were an ever-shifting entity. Becky had learned this early on from Giada; even a player hovering close to forty years of age would remain a part of 'the boys' so long as he played. The boys were often away for games, and that's when they were at their best, Becky thought. This was the time when the girls could relax as a group and just joke about them, as if they weren't really even there at all. Sometimes the boys were bastards, other times they were God's greatest mystery. The boys were flawed, but their failings differed in magnitude. Some of them were dumb and made mistakes—this was forgivable. The ones who were smarter, who should know better—the ones who made their counterpart cry during wives-and-girlfriends outings. Those were the ones Becky hated.
Another thing Becky hated was facial hair. Mike grew a cheesy mustache every November, then stopped shaving entirely come playoffs. Did he really think she found that attractive? He told her it was necessary for winning games, but Becky didn't really buy into superstitions. Giada said Kayden also grew the playoffs beard. The boys were such dorks.
You learned a lot about a guy by learning about the woman he'd ended up with. Jenni was quiet and reserved, so it stood to reason Mikko was loud and rambunctious, always making jokes in his heavily accented English. Ashley was vivacious and quick-witted, but also kind of a mess, so it made sense that Brock was calm, smart, and particular enough for both of them. Stacy was a fastidious organizer, and her husband Nikita was a leader and a respected figure on the ice and in the locker room. Amanda was naive; her husband was cunning. They all made sense, slotted into each other's imperfections, to fill the flaws of one another.
Everyone made sense as a couple except for Becky and Mike, and Giada and Kayden. Mike was a funny guy, who prided himself on being funny. His texts often made Becky smile or even laugh out loud. But she herself was also very funny, Giada told her that all the time. What was she supposed to do? Yuck it up with him for the rest of her life? Or was she supposed to diminish her own sense of humor to prop up his comedy? The thought of it filled her with dread.
Kayden was relaxed and easy-going that could have balanced out Giada's ambition and need for control, but instead it just meant that they argued a lot. He did not respect her ambition, and thought she was too controlling. Which, fine, Becky admitted, Giada was controlling, but she controlled things because she cared about them. Why did he penalize her for caring by becoming more and more indifferent himself? He was such a tool.
"You don't know their relationship," Becky remembered being chided by Stacy when she had said something pretty mean about Amanda's idiot of a husband, Coulton. "You just don't know."
She reminded herself of that fact every time she looked at Giada, wondering how Giada would change, mold herself to confine herself in her relationship with Kayden. Of course Becky had no idea what it was like to live in someone else's relationship, but she knew Giada, knew how perfect she already was.
When she suggested the double date, it made sense even though the mere suggestion made Mike groan and drop the controller onto the sofa. "You think you don't already spend enough time with Giada as it is? You want to do a date night with her now, too?"
"For the 'gram," Becky said, which always worked on Mike. He didn't particularly like social media, but he understood her feminine need for validation. No, that wasn't quite it; he didn't understand, he pretended he understood, and she pretended that was enough, because truth be told she also didn't care that much about social media. But Giada did, and so Becky, too, wanted to care about it. "It'll be cute, come on."
"Richy's not really my bro." Mike stared at the paused video game screen. Then he shrugged. "Fine, a meal's a meal. We'll bro out and you get to have fun with Gia."
"It's Giada," Becky corrected him.
"Richy calls her Gia." Mike unpaused the game and continued playing.
Becky wanted to tell him she didn't care what 'Richy' called Giada, he didn't fucking own her. None of them owned her. Giada was not to be contained in a wife-and-girlfriend shaped box, Giada would shape the box if he tried to shove her in one. Fuck Kayden for trying to do that. The only reason Becky was opting to spend a second more than she had to in his presence was to hopefully gain some valuable insight.
She said none of this, because she was being good. "That's cute," she said instead and focused on the plan ahead.
Becky's mom notices she's got a new friend. If she's not at school with Jade, she's texting Jade, and if she's not texting Jade, they're talking on instant messaging. oh my god, Jade types. She never types out the acronym. She's so cool, Becky thinks.
"You girls should really focus on school instead of boys," her mom tells her. As if her and Jade are ever talking about boys. As if they ever would.
Becky picked a nice place for their dinner together, somewhere fancy and fusion and glam enough for the photos on social media, but also highly rated enough in terms of food that Mike wouldn't complain the whole ride home. He wasn't much a foodie, but he liked food enough to critique it, which is why Becky avoided cooking anything more complicated than a sandwich if she could avoid it. She didn't need to hear about all the dishes his mom made better than her.
"Babe, I love this place!" Giada looked around the place, her shoulders relaxing.
Becky felt happy, only slightly dimmed by the fact that them getting seated was preceded by a lengthy heated discussion about Kayden wearing or not wearing a tie outside the restaurant. Kayden had said he was rich enough not to have to adhere to any stupid dress code. Becky had disagreed. Giada had played peacemaker, telling Kayden, "Just wear it when we go in, babe, you can take it off after."
In the grand scheme of things, such a small disagreement might not matter at all. It momentarily imbued Becky with elation, but this did not last long. You don't know anyone's relationship from the outside, but as appetizers arrived and Becky's suggested fennel salad lit up Giada's face, Becky wondered if this was really true. She didn't sense herself as being outside of Giada's relationship or that Giada herself wasn't constantly allowed a window into Becky's relationship with Mike. All told they spent more time together than with the boys. Becky knew Giada better; knew her inside and out. She knew her ins and outs and secrets, her goals and imperfections.
The greatest cruelty of her life was that despite this, Kayden was allowed a special privilege into Giada's life that Becky did not receive. Kayden surely cared for Giada; this was never in doubt. It was in the way he looked at her when making a joke, or the way he gently tucked her hand into his own over the table cloth while waiting for the next course.
Yet he wasn't interested in his own fiancee and that felt like a crime in Becky's books. Had he ever asked Giada why she'd changed her name? Had he ever wondered why her hands were always cool to the touch? Why she'd quit playing hockey? Did he appreciate how she kept her hair so shiny, slipping between Becky's fingers as she combed through it to achieve the perfect casual beach waves for Stacy's tiki bar party? Had he even cared about that?
"Babe, are you enjoying your meal?" Mike asked as Becky looked up from her plate. If she was babe to both Giada and Mike, what was the difference between them? Where did her babehood from one end and to the other begin?
"Yeah," she said. "The miso glazed salmon's great."
"Dude, this is your dick after two beers." Kayden held a thin and droopy carrot dripping with honey at the end of his fork. His grin was wide and gummy.
"Yeah, my dick is going into your mouth any minute now," Mike said and Becky snorted.
Kayden's brows raised, a challenge and held out his fork across the table to Mike. "Suck on it."
"What the fuck." But Mike was laughing and then Kayden was laughing, too.
"Oh my god, you guys are so childish." Giada nudged Kayden to get him to stop and he laughed even harder.
"Just a dumb joke," Mike said and eventually the laughter died down, the joke put to bed.
The words echoed in Becky's head. She remembered her own drunken, messy face covered in chocolate, Giada's eyes boring into her own. Just a dumb joke.
Giada stared at her. Becky reached for her glass of water. The moment had passed and the guys weren't sucking each other's carrots and that was that.
Just a dumb joke.
Jade says things like "if you're wearing red lipstick it shows other people you're aroused" and "I don't think women rulers would prevent wars, but they would prevent bloodshed" and "men need team sports so they can touch each other without being gay about it". Jade is really smart; Becky at least thinks so.
The boys were away again. The other girls were busy with family things or with planning Jenni's birthday weekend in Tulum (why was it always Tulum, Becky wondered). Giada wanted to go clothes shopping, but then she changed her mind.
"We should go out and just party the night away." Becky could practically hear her grin through the phone line, her voice lilting up smoothly like a radio commercial.
"Should we?" Becky asked. She didn't think it was very necessary. She'd never been much of a dancer, and she didn't like the way cocktail dresses hiked up her thighs.
"No, you're so right. You know what we should do instead? A pajama party, like back in the day."
There was so much concealed by those four words: back in the day. Becky felt dizzy and had to steady her feet, placing the soles of her feet at the distance of her shoulders like she was taught in yoga class. Breathing in calm, breathing out anxiety. "That sounds great," she said. "I'd love that."
"Great, see you at my place, then."
Giada was unflappable. Becky wondered about boundaries and who was pushing whose. She wanted to test something; that had been the whole core of her plan, even as it faltered with each passing day that Giada continued to make allusions to wedding planning. Perhaps they truly saw their futures in two diverging directions. Giada saw them in symbiosis with the boys, the two besties whose guys were close as well. Tropical holidays and carefully coordinated couples costumes for Halloween. Becky saw them so tightly wound together they could barely breathe, and the boys were long gone, a distant memory for both of them. That was how it ought to be, wasn't it?
She packed her pajamas and headed off to Giada's. She bought pink champagne and vegan marshmallows from the supermarket and a box of gluten-free mac'n'cheese, remembering how much Giada loved that back in the day, but how she no longer eats gluten. She bought strawberries which looked too pale and watery for anything but champagne glass decoration, but they fit the vibe: girly, pastel and pleasant.
Giada greeted her at the door and ooh'ed and aah'ed over what Becky had bought for their party of two. "These are all great," she said.
They toasted the champagne—although it wasn't real champagne, Giada corrected Becky, this was just sparkling wine with food coloring. But on camera that didn't really matter. They had the strawberries (terrible and watery) and some Cookies'n'Creme Oreos (less terrible). Becky explained why she bought the gluten-free mac'n'cheese, which now felt like a silly idea because why would they be eating mac'n'cheese in the first place?
"We should," Giada said. "For old times' sake. Then we can watch some romantic comedies."
Back in the day they watched things like The 100 and Battlestar Galactica together, not romantic comedies. They were grown-ups now, though, which led Becky down a path of thought on what it meant to like anything at all, if what you liked shaped you into someone you didn't want to be. But she didn't hate romantic comedies, so she she said yes.
By the end of Legally Blonde, however, Giada appeared restless. "This is sort of boring. Should we play dress up?"
"We never did that growing up." Becky shifted in her seat.
Giada stared at her. "That's because we wore such ugly clothes, babe. Now we've got money to spend on nice clothes. I have a dress I think you'd love."
Becky's pulse picked up. When they were teens they might have fit into the same clothes, but nowadays Giada prided herself on form-fitting silhouettes and fabrics that hugged curves. They were both short, but Giada was an inch or two taller. "I'm not going to fit in it," Becky said and looked down at her chest. She'd had to go a size up to not strain the front of her pajama top and now the pajama looked a bit baggy on her.
"Trust me," Giada said and took her hand in hers. It was the first time they'd touched after the little hug Becky had gotten when she'd come through the door. But the hug was polite, distant and fleeting, and when Giada grabbed her hand, it felt purposeful, her cool fingers warming in Becky's.
Giada's closet was huge and well-organized. The rows of shoes gleamed from lit-up shelves, and when she pulled out the dress, Becky was almost disappointed. This wasn't the creamy silk or delicate pastels that Giada herself wore. The dress seemed gaudy in comparison with bright red and white checkered print at the bust, a flowing A-line skirt and ruffled cap sleeves over the shoulders. The cotton fabric looked plain and cheap.
"Really?" Becky asked, unable to hide her disappointment.
"Guys love this kind of dress. I call it my 'wife material' dress." Giada thrust the garment towards Becky. "Come on, please try it on. For me?"
"Sure," Becky agreed. She began to unbutton her pajama top as Giada sat expectant on the lounge chair in the corner of the closet.
Becky had a difficult time convincing herself that Giada was not watching her undress. She licked her lips idly, swallowed as she unbuttoned the last button and slipped off the shirt. She was wearing a sensible, soft-cupped bra beneath. Neither of them acknowledged the little gasp Giada made. Becky slid down the pajama pants. Her underwear was deeply unsexy, because Mike didn't seem to care for lingerie, and because she didn't care for it much herself. The only pieces she wore got her so turned on she had to take them off or get off while wearing them immediately. Was lingerie a scam? She told Mike not to buy anything for her again. She didn't need it.
"Put it on," Giada said with a sense of urgency.
Becky put her arms through the little sleeves and let the dress fall over her figure. But the problem she'd anticipated made its presence known immediately: the cotton strained against her bust. She had to pull the fabric down and still the cleavage showed way too much, flesh rising above the stiff neckline with each breath she took, and the back wasn't even zipped up yet.
"I told you it wouldn't fit," Becky said. She dropped her arms in defeat as Giada walked closer and carefully examined the situation before her. "I guess I'm not 'wife material'," Becky joked.
"Shush now," Giada said. Her hands slid beneath the bust area slowly, the backs of her thumbs brushing against the cups of Becky's bra over the cotton. "I think it fits perfectly, babe."
"It looks too—" Becky trailed off, staring at the way Giada's fingers kept adjusting the fit of the cleavage, sliding beneath the fabric and against skin. Her nipples tightened at the closeness of the touch, the way that Giada examined every inch, pulling and smoothing, and touching, so innocent and helpful. Becky could feel the little pricks of heat on her cheeks and the way that she was getting so—fucking—wet inside her unsexy underwear.
"It looks too what?" Giada was still adjusting, her eyes not meeting Becky's. Becky's breath caught. Surely both of them had to be aware of what was going on here. Surely Giada couldn't be fondling another girl's tits so gently, so carefully that it was almost teasing. Becky's thighs clenched together, trying to stop the flow of arousal, her cunt pulsing and her nipples begging to be played with. As if on command, Giada slid her palms over them, causing Becky's breath to stutter. Fuck.
"It looks too booby." Becky's chest rose and fell under Giada's gaze.
"Don't be silly," Giada said and slid her hands behind her back, at her tailbone and her careful usually-cool fingers, now warmed by Becky's tits, took hold of the zipper and slowly pulled it up. She was so close now, close enough to touch without meaning to. Becky so badly wanted her to.
She watched Becky, just breathing common air, so close, her pretty lips slightly parted and she watched Becky's lips as her own perfect little tits pressed against Becky's and then—
"He's going to love you in this," Giada said. "The boys love your boobs, even though they're too big. He's going to want to fuck you in this."
"Really?" Becky asked. She was going to die.
"You should wear this without anything underneath, babe," Giada said. "Take off your panties now."
"What?"
"Just try it, babe." Giada smiled softly. "Imagine you're at home with him, you're wearing this dress. You tell him you have no underwear on. You think he'll be able to resist? He's going to fuck you so hard, babe, you won't even know your name by the end of it." Her eyes pinned Becky in place. "Trust me."
Becky reached beneath the hem and pulled it up enough to access the waistband of her underwear. She slid it down over her ass, thighs, ankles and finally stepped out of it. She was so fucking wet for Giada's cool fingers, Giada's playful tongue, whatever Giada would give her.
"Like that?" Becky confirmed.
"Just like that." Giada reached for the underwear and tucked it into the pocket of her pyjama bottoms. "Do you want to watch Clueless now?"
"I think I have to go to the bathroom," Becky said.
"Cool," Giada replied, shrugging her shoulders. She went, leaving Becky to undress and put her own pajamas back on her, drenching them without her underwear, feeling the fabric shift against her needy cunt that wanted release. She touched herself in the bathroom, quickly, while feeling insane about it. What was Giada doing to her? What was Becky doing to Giada?
Then she went back out there and ate more Oreos and watched Clueless with her very best friend. Like a good friend.
Jade talks about lesbians a lot. "If the first ever lesbian billionaire would pay me a million dollars to date her, I totally would," Jade says one time at lunch. "Like, imagine that kind of status. It would be so cool."
Becky tries to imagine dating a woman, but fails to do so. It looks too much like what hanging out with Jade right now is like, except the scary unknown of kissing and sex, two things Becky has sworn off until college.
"Can I be a real lesbo right now?" Jade asks another time before class. "Your boobs look great in that top."
Becky feels her cheeks warm. "Thanks, I guess."
"Oh my god," Jade says. "You're so blessed. You'll make a man really happy one day, babe." Jade always calls her babe because Jade says that's what all girls do with their best friends, but Becky thinks it's one of their things. It's just one of their many things.
When the wives and girlfriends had brunch the next time, she purposefully sat between Kristen and Sofiya, away from Giada. After a bit of chitchat about her week, she listened to them talk about kids, the kids' hobbies, kids growing so quickly out of their clothes and the difficulty of finding a good babysitter or nanny these days. Becky had no opinions on these things, so she listened and commiserated when necessary. It was easy and fine, and she could laugh on cue when the kids featured in what was an amusing anecdote.
They she looked up and saw Giada stare at her between Jenni and Stacy. Becky was unable to look away. Giada brought a frothy drink up to her lips and smiled against the rim. Becky smiled back. Who was she kidding? She couldn't stay away. She was addicted to Giada, the same as she had been since she was fifteen. Giada's smile, Giada's hands, Giada's insistence on knowing best.
When Giada grabbed her after the brunch, her cool fingers slipping beneath the sleeve of Becky's short-sleeved blouse, she didn't resist.
"What's up?" Becky asked.
"Did those two bore you with kids talk?" Giada asked.
"It was fine. I like hearing about their kids."
"You know, I got this crazy idea of a ski holiday for us and the boys."
Becky blinked. "The coaches won't let them ski mid-season, are you kidding me?"
"Oh, no." Giada's lips popped open. "You're so right. Why didn't I think of that? I already booked."
It didn't make a lot of sense. She was Giada. Of course she had thought of it. She thought of everything. Becky's pulse picked up again. "Are you serious?"
"It should be fun, right?" Giada smiled.
"Sure." Becky didn't even know how to ski. "I'll let Mike know I'm busy that weekend."
"You do that," Giada said. "You do that, babe."
"Did you know the Italian version of Jade is 'Giada'?" Becky hopes she's pronouncing it correctly. She doesn't know Italian at all, but there used to be a Giulia in her softball team, and that was pronounced basically the same as 'Julia'.
"Giada," Jade repeats. "Oh my god, I love that. Becky, I love that. That's my final evolution. Giada."
Jade hugs her body close to Becky's. It's a nice feeling.
Mike didn't even ask for an explanation when Becky told him about the weekend away with Giada to Colorado. Maybe this meant that he had finally accepted the difference between their worlds and allowed the boundary to stay where Becky had last drawn it. She should have felt guilty about it, but he seemed equally at ease with the situation. No distractions from his happy existence with the boys, the way things should be.
Briefly she wondered if he had someone else. What would the girl be like? She, who enticed him away from Becky, a perfectly fine girlfriend with big tits and an acceptable personality. Probably someone who was naturally blonde unlike Becky, and less cold, less difficult to accommodate. She'd be so pretty and perky for him. She would laugh at his jokes without hesitation and get along great with his mom. She would never be sarcastic or hate giving blowjobs. Becky enjoyed the fantasy of Mike's side piece, the smiling happy blonde who would jump on Mike's cock so eagerly it surprised him. The girl who fit into the wife material dress with ease and who didn't lust after her best friend.
She swallowed, looking over the suitcase she was packing. There wasn't anyone to alleviate Becky's own guilt. Mike was one of the good ones.
The Colorado resort was perfect; luxurious without being too opulent, expensive but down to earth at the same time. They took a selfie together at the reception area, the sunny snowy view from the big windows behind them. Giada wore a cream-colored woolen beanie that framed her face beautifully. Becky's hair was fluffed from the hat she'd just pulled off, but she managed to contain the nervous giddiness she felt tickle her stomach. She smiled brightly, the same as any other photo. It was a great picture. Becky thought at first that Giada would send it to the boys, but instead she posted it to the wives-and-girlfriends group chat. Because showing off to them was more important, she supposed.
The two bedroom suite had marble counter tops and cozy wooden trinkets. The plush sofa had throws and pillows in earthy tones. For a moment Becky really considered that Giada had booked it impulsively, without thinking further. Maybe the coaches would have okayed the boys coming, if they'd really made a case for staying safe and not going on the craziest of slopes. But then she looked into the second bedroom, and saw the bed. It might have fit two, if those two were Becky-sized, but it wouldn't have fit her and Mike, who was both wide and tall, annoyingly massive. Her heartbeat sped up, but she took a deep breath in and held it for four seconds. This was fine. It might not mean a thing.
"We'd have to rent skis if we want to go," Giada said as Becky finished unpacking.
"There's also a frozen lake skating ring," Becky said. "If you'd want to go."
"Wow, that sounds like fun." Giada grinned. "We can take a video."
They didn't have women's hockey skates, even though Giada asked, so instead they both wore white figure skates, laces tied tightly around their ankles. Giada showed Becky how it was done, and even though Becky had known how to skate since she was little, she felt awkward and wobbly this time. Giada was more at ease, picking up speed as she went around the ring and skated back towards Becky.
"It's actually perfect," Giada said and was probably talking about the weather, but her hands grabbed a hold of Becky's as she said it. She began to skate backwards effortlessly and pulled Becky after her. "Look up at me," she said when Becky began to focus on the tips of her skates, seeing them slide and wobble as Giada sped up.
Becky looked up at her. Her cheeks were pink with the crisp cold weather, and her nose was freckled from the sun even though they had both brought sunscreen for the mountain weather. Her eyes were brilliant and honeyed brown in the light and her face crinkled with a smile. They should have worn sunglasses in the brightness of the day, but then Becky wouldn't see all of her and that would have been a terrible shame. She felt the wind against her cheeks and she inhaled the cold air and Giada pulled her along, faster and faster until fear made Becky's stomach flip. She wasn't sure she could go much faster, even though her feet worked and she was pushing herself as well as allowing Giada to pull her.
It was terrifying, and Giada saw that terror in her expression before slowing down. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"I'm alright," Becky said. Her fingers inside her gloves squeezed Giada's hands harder. "Why did you quit hockey? You're so fast on those skates."
Giada's expression darkened. "You know why."
Becky felt guilt twist her insides. She had taken a perfectly good moment and ruined it. She did know why Giada had quit hockey and it wasn't as simple as just thinking the sport was a waste of time like Becky once had. It was wrapped up in who she wanted to be, and more importantly, who she did not want to be, and what all that meant for the life plan she'd carved into stone as soon as she'd figured it out in high school.
The words do you regret it hovered on her tongue right behind her lips, but she kept them in, because she could guess the answer to that one, too.
"You look great," Becky said instead. "Should we take the video now?"
"Oh my god," Giada said. "I have such a fun idea for this."
The video showed Becky, comically slow on her skates across the ice, followed by Giada who glided like a professional figure skater. It was a hit among the girls in the group chat. Giada sent it to Kayden, who hearted it within moments. Becky didn't send it to anyone. She thought about sending it to Mike, but this was her weekend. She wanted the space and the distance to remain as is, and she didn't want to draw him further into her world again. She also didn't care what he thought of her clumsy skating.
They had dinner at the resort restaurant and one fancy cocktail each. It was fun, and Becky felt herself relax. Her shoulders had been tense the entire time she'd been on skates. Giada paid with her credit card, which probably meant that in truth, Kayden paid for their dinner and drinks. She tried her best not to think about that fact.
Giada yawned. "We should go to bed."
Becky felt her chest and cheeks flush. She could just be hot, she figured. She'd borrowed a comfortable, loose-fitting cashmere sweater from Giada. The sleeves flared out and Becky'd had to roll them up a little so as to not get any food on them. The neckline was high enough to cover most of her blush, she hoped.
"We should, yeah." She tried to consciously slow down her breathing.
While doing homework one evening, Becky thinks to finally ask Jade about college. "Were you thinking of going to college?" she asks carefully, because she's well aware their situations are different. Her own parents have been saving up since before she was born so she could go to the best one, and she's already applied for scholarships as well.
"I might," Jade says noncommittally. "I was thinking University of Minnesota, you know, to stay close to my mom."
"Okay," Becky says. The prospect of not being in the same city, or even the same state as Jade feels a little overwhelming to consider. "I'll apply there, too."
It's not a promise, but it feels like one when she says it.
"We should be roommates, then," Jade says, like it's already decided.
The picture Giada had posted on social media of them having dinner was perfect, cozy warm light and aesthetically pleasing plating on the food. Giada had hugged her from behind and Becky still felt that phantom touch around her neck and shoulders.
"I'm so stiff after all that skating. Could you give me a massage, babe?" Giada rubbed a hand over the nape of her neck. There was nothing suggestive about her request. Becky would be the weirdo if she said no.
She nodded. "Of course. If you return the favor." Her cheeks felt inflamed at her own boldness.
"I'm not great at it, but I'll try." Giada got out of her burgundy knitwear dress, and sat at the edge of the bed. "Come on, Becky."
Becky slid her hands nervously over Giada's slim shoulders until her fingers found the straps of her bra. "I'll just," she said softly and brought down the straps. Giada's hair was up in a neat chignon, giving Becky access to all that beautiful, delicate skin. She kneaded the muscle gently with her hands, unable to decide if she was actually going to put enough pressure to actually relieve the stiffness or just touch Giada for the joy of getting to touch her.
She listened carefully to Giada's breath and the tiny puffs of air, so close to moans, that escaped her mouth every now and then. Becky sat up on her knees and licked her lips unconsciously when she saw Giada's small and pretty tits rise and fall inside the lacy cups of her bra. Giada always had sexy, expensive lingerie. She always made sure to send pictures to Becky before purchase, so Becky could type back, he'll love that while thinking fuck him.
She felt the dark, uncomfortable swirl of heat in her stomach coil tighter. She was already wet; Giada was breathing heavier.
"Is it my turn yet?" Becky asked, because she couldn't take it anymore. She folded so easily. She didn't even have the guts to gently press her mouth against the curve of Giada's shoulder, to slide her hands beneath the cups of that bra and feel Giada the precise way she remembered Giada feeling her during that pajama party.
Becky was a coward.
"Oh my god," Giada said. "Fine. Dress down, babe, I need you on your back."
"Okay." Becky was not wearing the sexiest of underwear, but she suspected Giada already knew that. She took off her sweater and dropped out of her pants and got on the bed, lying on her back. She felt more naked than she ever had before.
Giada straddled her. She was comfortably heavy on Becky's hips, and she was hot against Becky, which didn't help her arousal. Giada started at the stomach, her cool hands careful at pressing against both sides of Becky's navel. Then she worked her way up, until she reached the underside of Becky's bra, huffing in disappointment.
"You're going to have to take this off, babe."
Becky's heart hammered at her throat. "Giada," she said. "Come on."
She didn't even precisely know what she was asking for. She wanted the release, the other shoe to drop, for Giada to finally give her what they both wanted. She waited for the spell to break and for Giada to issue a flat, amused denial. Instead Giada smiled down at her. "Someone really should massage your beautiful, big tits."
Becky groaned, but sat up high enough to wrangle the bra clasps at her back open. Giada helped slide the whole garment off her shoulders and down her arms and then she was just naked there, feeling the air perk her nipples under Giada's hungry eyes. "Babe," Giada breathed out in awe before her hands found Becky's tits. Her fingers slid on both sides of Becky's nipples, tightening around them, pulling them up further. "Look at you, Becky. Your gorgeous tits need care, too, don't they? They need to be touched, and licked and sucked. I love your tits so much."
To drive the point further she leaned down and sucked one of the tight, pointed nipples into her soft, hot mouth, while her other hand held up the other tit. Becky moaned so loudly she was almost embarrassed. She squeezed her thighs together as she felt more wetness leaking out of her, especially as Giada's hips started to rock against her, driving her more mad with need. Her tongue flicked against Becky's nipple, the edge of her teeth scraping against it tenderly. Giada hummed as she worked Becky, rocking her hips and sucking on the nipple.
"Giada." Becky's hands found her silken hair, messing up her pretty chignon. "Giada, please."
"Can you come like this, babe?" Giada licked around the nipple, kneading the other tit in her hand. "Can you come from just your tits being played with?"
"Maybe." It had never happened before, but she could feel herself more and more tense, the familiar way her body did whenever she was edging closer.
"I love your tits so much," Giada said. "I can't resist them. I can't resist touching you every fucking chance I get, babe."
"Giada," Becky groaned, tilting her hips up so Giada could get more friction against her. "Kiss me." She could not play the game anymore. She needed her girl so badly it ached within, her desperate arousal gushing out of her.
Giada let out a sound, frustrated and dark with her own need and leaned in. Her scent invaded Becky's nose before she felt Giada's mouth against her own. The kiss was filthy and rich with promise, Giada biting her lower lip and grunting when her tongue found Becky's. Her hands still played with Becky's tits, crushing them together and pulling at the nipples with both hands. She adjusted her position, one thigh sliding between Becky's. It wasn't enough and yet somehow it was, Becky's desperate cunt wetting the perfect skin on Giada's thigh as she rocked up against the flesh, needy as fucking anything.
Giada sighed against the kiss and then her fingers twisted, harder than Becky expected and she came. Her cry was loud even to her own ears, and she flooded her already drenched underwear with even more. "Babe," Giada whispered before kissing her nipples, torturing them sweetly. One hand found her soaked cunt, still pulsing with the aftershocks. "Your pussy is so wet. I always get you this wet, Becky?"
"You do," Becky admitted as she trailed a heavy tongue over her dry lips. "Can I eat you out now?"
Giada laughed and got off Becky, jumping next to her and wiggled out of her tiny underwear. Her cunt was so gorgeous when Becky finally laid between her thighs, touching the trimmed hair at the top before daring to slip a finger between the pretty, swollen folds. Giada gasped as Becky felt her wetness and trailed it up to her clit, pressing down on it to feel it throb against the pad of her finger. It was so good. It was better than in all of her fantasies.
"Have you thought about this before?" She just needed to know, rubbing against Giada while listening to her moan. Her creamy, lovely thighs tensed and tightened as Becky curled the fingers of her other hand against the skin, teasing and tracing patterns.
"Every time," Giada gasped. Becky's cheeks prick with heat. She knew what it meant. Every time he was down there. Every time he tried to satisfy her, she thought of Becky. Becky's mouth watered. She leaned in closer and pressed the tip of her tongue where her finger had been, feeling the hot little clit against her tongue, flexing her tongue against it to hear Giada moan louder.
Becky licked her, opened her up with her fingers and enjoyed her taste as she got wetter and wetter for Becky. Eventually she found the perfect thing, her lips wrapped around the hardened clit and sucking as her fingers stroked Giada from within. The movement was lazy and slow, but Giada was already close, her body writhing and quivering as Becky brought her closer and closer.
"Oh my god," Giada managed. Her voice was rough and gone, and Becky thought that's my girl and sucked harder.
Giada exploded, low groans ascending to high pitched cries as Becky made her come. Becky's hands slid beneath her ass, keeping her pinned against her mouth, not relenting until she was sure Giada had had her fill, until the orgasm subsided enough to ride Becky's tongue to a second one. Becky had never been more proud of herself.
Giada pulled her up for a kiss, her arms wrapping around Becky's shoulders. "I'm so happy you found me," she said between kisses. "I'm so fucking happy."
Becky's chest lit up with pride, need and triumph. This was it, she thought. This was finally it.
Becky tells Jade she got accepted into Vassar. Jade is incensed. "We were supposed to go of U of MN together."
But Vassar is such a good school, and Becky's mom always wished she attended. They've saved up so much money. "I'm going to go, though. It's a big deal to me."
Jade's expression turns into stone. "You're just going to leave me?"
Becky's stomach knots. This is a good thing for her, and it's a good thing for Jade to have gotten into her school. "We can still email. Meet up. Fly out, summers, holiday weekends."
"That's not how it works," Jade says. "College is where high school friendships die. Everyone knows that."
Becky's chest hurts all of the sudden. "Ours doesn't have to die."
"Yes, it does," Jade does. "You killed it. You." And she goes, leaving Becky with the worst pain of her life.
The next morning they stayed in bed and Giada licked Becky's cunt until Becky was begging for release. Giada was so good at teasing, edging Becky right up to the brink and then bringing her back down. Giada had brought a toy, and although she said she brought it everywhere, Becky wondered if she really did or not. Regardless, it was a good toy, vibrating between them as they took turns with it. Giada pressed it right between Becky's pussy lips and turned up the vibration mode until she could watch Becky shake with another climax.
They eventually ordered breakfast for room service and ate and kissed. Giada's gentle touch against the small of her back drove Becky wild with need; she wasn't sure how she was supposed to go back to normal, accepting the gentle touches as just something two friends did.
Giada finally pushed her down on the bed and fucked her with fingers, and then the toy, and then pushed Becky's messy blond bed hair between her own terrific thighs again so Becky could enjoy the sweetest pussy in the world. Her girl's pretty cunt, all hers this weekend.
But then she had to ruin it by asking. "Do you love him?" She was combing through Giada's hair with her fingers, undoing the tiny tangles.
"What do you mean?" Giada asked. Her brown eyes didn't find Becky's.
"I mean, do you actually love him?" It sounded so juvenile and vapid. But that was the crux of it, wasn't it? She had to know if she was to move forward. She wanted to know. She had to think there was a chance if she could stake her entire future on it.
"I'm going to marry him," Giada said. Becky felt something ice cold drip down her lungs and chest. "I've been working forever to do that. To marry someone like him."
"Okay." Becky felt so stupid. She'd known this all along; the wedding was being planned and a little pussy eating was not going to swerve Giada off that path. She'd chosen it too long ago. "Is this, I guess, is this it then?"
"Babe." Giada sat up and drew Becky into her arms. "This is everything I could've ever dreamed of. I love having you back in my life."
"I don't love him." Becky bit into her own lip. It wasn't that Mike was annoying, or a bad guy, or that deserved any of this. It was that she hadn't ever loved him and she never would, and she probably couldn't, if she was truly and brutally honest with herself.
"It's such early days for you two," Giada said lightly. She kept kissing Becky's face; her nose, her cheek, her jawline, down to her neck and clavicle area.
"We've been together for almost two years," Becky muttered, but she didn't tell Giada to stop.
That was the most difficult, knotty problem in all of this; she didn't want to tell Giada to stop. Giada had Becky's tits in her hands and then against her mouth once again. She couldn't get enough, and Becky grew wetter and wilder, bucking against Giada.
"Make me come," Becky whined, as if Giada wouldn't. Of course she would. Giada would make her come like crazy, and that would be the only thing she would do.
She wouldn't return Becky's yearning or her ache or her fervent desire to be the only one in Giada's heart, in her soul and in her bed.
After graduation Becky hangs out with Jake, Cooper and Frankie. She smokes cigarettes and drinks beer.
At the beach bonfire during the summer she meets Jade again. "You bitch," Jade says, but she's drunk so it doesn't come out vindictive, more like a joke between two old friends. Maybe this can work after all, Becky thinks.
Jade pulls her closer and Becky's face heats up, not from the fire or the alcohol this time. Jade kisses her hard, her tongue licking possessively into Becky's mouth in a way that lights Becky's spine up like a sparkler. But the guys around them whoop and holler, and everyone laughs. Jade pushes her away, laughing as well. Laughing at Becky's first kiss, with Becky's first love, just laughing.
Just a funny joke.
Becky emails Jade throughout the summer, sometimes cool and casual, other times desperate and angry. She continues during their first semester of college, but never gets a reply.
It's over. It's finally over and it hurts so much.
When Becky returned home from the ski weekend, she found herself getting annoyed at every single little thing. Mike kept wanting to see her. The team had had a string of losses, so Becky could sense he was feeling down about himself. For some reason, spending time together restored him while it only sapped her. She went to his place, said bye to his roommate who walked out the door with a knowing grin and then she made Mike a sandwich, his favorite with mustard and the silly light mayo that was somehow team dietitian approved. He ate and then pulled her into his lap, and she couldn't stand any of it anymore.
"I'm moving back to Minneapolis." The words came out of her even though the thought was only half-formed. This had not been a part of the plan, but then, her plan had been born half-formed. She had so desperately relied on Giada helping her fill out the rest; where they would go, why they would go there, what the time table of it all was going to be. She had been so sure the answer would be a yes, that she had completely unaccounted for what she might do if the answer was a no.
"What?" Mike frowned at her. "What do you mean?"
"My family—" Becky started on a stupid excuse that wouldn't work. Her mom was fit and healthy. Her dad was in good shape, always hitting the golf course; that was something he loved to talk about with Mike, something for the two of them to bond over that wasn't hockey. "My family suggested I apply for this job. I used to work in sales, you know, I made better money back then than I do now. I just did it on a whim, and now I got an offer."
"Wow." Mike knocked the baseball cap off his head and combed through his hair with his fingers. "Fuck me. I was going to propose, Becky."
"I know," Becky said. "I'm sorry. I don't think I'm ready for that."
"But you seemed to be. You seemed excited about it." Mike looked thoughtful. "Do you want me to propose now? To make you stay, like—I can, if you want. You don't need to worry about making money if we're married."
Becky swallowed. It insulted her that Mike would think so low of her, that she'd float this thing by her just to squeeze his balls and get the proposal out of him. "No, I don't want that. I'm accepting the job offer. I'm sorry."
He looked unreadable as she extracted herself from his arms and gathered her things. He had never been great at talking about emotions, but neither was she, so she was sparing them both the conversation that would never go anywhere to begin with. Once she was out of his apartment, she felt her steps get lighter even as her chest felt tighter. It wasn't enough to leave him, what had to follow was leaving Giada as well, and she wasn't looking forward to it.
So instead of doing the difficult thing, she spent the next evening on various job portals, furiously firing off applications to whatever stupid thing she could find in Minneapolis. She muted the wives-and-girlfriends group chat for the evening and had a cliché cry over a big glass of white wine. She felt guilty how little guilt she felt about what she had done to Mike, and how her chest still burned whenever she thought about Giada, soft in her arms.
Fact was, if she wasn't such an idiot she could have had it all; the rich husband and her best friend, all the money and comfort, and Giada every now and then in her bed, a series of luxurious stolen moments together. It just wouldn't have been enough for her, because she only wanted Giada.
Kayden is out, wanna hang? Giada had texted her the next morning when Becky woke up bleary-eyed with two interview requests in her inbox.
sure, she texted back, because maybe some painful conversations were best had in person.
Giada greeted her at the door, mouth curved into that pretty little grin that instantly told Becky she was up to no good. She hugged Giada close and allowed herself to be kissed, allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of it one more time before letting go. "I can't stay for long," she said. "I have flights to book."
Giada's lips popped open. Her brows knit together. "Flights? What are you even talking about?"
Becky braced herself. "I'm moving back to Minneapolis, and I've broken up with Mike."
"You're crazy," Giada told her. "He's going to propose, any minute now."
"I know. I wouldn't have said yes, though." She took a step back because she could see it in Giada's perfect posture; the rage that was uncoiling in her, the disbelief that Becky was blowing up the exact kind of life Giada had spent so much time building.
"What the fuck!" Giada cried out, crossing her arms. "You can't just give up like this, Becky. Every good relationship needs work. Are you not willing to do the work?"
Giada had a way of cutting with words. Becky had seen it happen to other people, but lucky for her, she could no longer be wounded by any words. "Ours was not a good relationship, Giada. I didn't love him. I don't think I even liked him that much. And all your relationship ever seems to involve is work." It was stupid to think she could sting Giada, but she wanted to try it.
Giada was not stung. She kept her arms folded, her demeanor cold and angry. "Is this about the ski trip? Becky, I had fun. We both had fun together. But we both knew what it was, right?"
Becky was losing it. Her chest felt cold and tight. She couldn't get on her hands and knees and beg Giada to shed the life she'd worked so hard to build, even if it involved layer upon layer of self-deception. Maybe she didn't know Giada at all. Maybe she didn't even know herself. She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "You know what, forget it. I'm not asking you to become a lesbian in the Midwest, so don't worry, babe."
Giada's eyes flashed with hurt, and Becky felt a sense of triumph. Finally, an emotion she wanted.
"I'm engaged to be married, Becky. I'm planning a wedding with Kayden. It's happening, even if it's not happening as fast as I'd like." Her eyes looked wet now, and Becky felt a dark guilt settle in her stomach. She could have had it all, and now she had nothing at all, and it was all her own stupid fault.
"I know. You're going to marry him. That's why I can't stay."
"And you're my best friend, who's leaving again." Giada's eyes filled with real, big tears, a rare sight.
Becky couldn't stand it, not right now, not when she had made up her mind. "You're the one who left me last time," she said, fighting hurt with hurt and not caring.
"Don't you think I want the same as you do?" The question came out of Giada as a sob. "Don't you think I haven't thought about it, packing up and dropping off the ring and just breathing again? Don't you think I don't think about it every single day when I look at the other girls and see what path lays fucking ahead of me? Don't you think I want to be seventeen again and decide that if I want to be secure in life or just be me, I could choose differently this time, or that I could just choose both? Don't you think I want that?"
"I don't know what you want," Becky said honestly. "All you've ever said is you wanted this life. You wanted to be rich. You wanted to be the best at this. You're going to be the best, Giada."
"Fuck this life," Giada said. "I wanted this life so I could have pretty things to call my own, things my family could never afford as a kid. I just wanted security. I wanted options that money would bring. Maybe you would find that difficult to understand, because your family was so stable it fucking bored you, but a lot of us didn't have that."
"I know," Becky said, even as her heart ached. They were so different, and she hadn't really ever thought about it deeper. She had just thought about what made sense to her; that neither of them could truly be happy like this. But maybe she was wrong about that. Maybe she was wrong about everything to do with Giada. "I'm just telling you what I'm going to do. You can decide for yourself what you do. I can't keep living a lie and I don't think I can keep living in this city with you in it."
"I've done everything to get here." Giada's voice faltered. "I love him."
"Okay. I don't love Mike." It felt good to say, to admit. "I never have, to be honest."
"It doesn't have to be perfect to work. Maybe if you just talked to Mike, he'd take you back," Giada started and Becky felt her temper flare suddenly.
"For fuck's sake, Giada." Her voice rose, then dropped because she didn't want to yell. She wasn't angry at Giada. She just wanted them both to finally have to face it. "It wasn't good between me and Mike. It didn’t work for either of us. He deserves a girl who wants him and I deserve someone who—who I'm into."
Giada groaned and took off towards the living room, pacing between the plush designer couch and the faux fireplace. "I can't believe you're doing this, Becky. You're asking me to give up everything I've built. My life is fucking perfect. I've got the perfect guy and the perfect apartment and the perfect life. And—" She choked, turning towards Becky. "And none of that fucking matters if I don't have my girl with me."
Becky felt her eyes fill with big, warm tears. "Giada."
"No, don't."
"I won't." She didn't know what she was agreeing to. She wouldn't touch Giada. She wouldn't persuade her with kisses or touches. She would just stay here, watching Giada wipe the tears without letting them smudge her makeup.
"Okay, fine. Give me a month to think. I need to. I can't just throw everything away now. I need to think." She sniffed, but the look in her eyes had settled, the control flooding back into her spine. She was Giada. She got things done.
"Okay," Becky agreed, even though her chest swelled with hope. It was a month, but a month was enough. A month was enough for Giada to know and for Becky to wait. "Okay," she repeated, everything softening in her, Giada softening, too.
"Kiss me," Giada said and Becky did, crossing the space between them quickly and standing on her toes to reach Giada's beautiful, perfect mouth. Giada's arms squeezed her tight against herself. So tight Becky almost believed she wouldn't let go.
It wouldn't be enough, but it felt like plenty for now, something to live off for a month, a sliver of beautiful, stupid hope.
Life in Minneapolis flowed at a slower pace. Becky had a job selling cars, which was silly and forced her to put on more makeup than she ever had before. She went to a hair salon her mom liked and got her hair dyed closer to her natural color with her first paycheck. She went to a lesbian bar and got hit on, and told everyone she already had a girlfriend. It was a nice fantasy.
Giada sent her a few texts over the weeks. First, a series of screenshots from the group chat to let Becky know everyone missed her and some of the girls wondered if Mike had just made the biggest mistake of his life. Becky had told them it was a mutual decision, but of course they all doubted her. The boys would never know what was best for them.
Then Giada sent a video of herself playing hockey with her brother. She looked good and capable on the ice, faster than her brother who lumbered after her. Becky hearted the video and sent an embarrassing, miss you. Giada hearted that two minutes later.
They kept in touch, but at random interludes, brief messages that still told Becky a world. Giada had left the group chat and had moved back in with her family. She was waitressing, which she hated, but she was job searching something bigger and better. They didn't talk about Mike or Kayden. They didn't have to.
Mike messaged her eventually. She had never blocked him because she always figured he wouldn't be an asshole about their break-up. To his credit, he hadn't been.
Heard Richy and G broke up, he wrote. Guess she wanted to get out of Seattle. He's such an idiot. Becky didn't ask what he meant by that.
Two days later, Giada sent her a screenshot of an email she'd received. It was an offer to work for the PR and social media department of the Minnesota professional women's hockey team. Oh my god, she wrote. I think I might need a roommate in Minnesota.
Becky's fingers worked lightning fast. I got you, girl.