Page 52 of Allured By Her

Tenley set her phone down and looked into her ice cream bowl. “Can you not tell anyone at book club that I’m an author? I like to keep it private.”

I nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m not ashamed of it or anything. I just don’t like having to answer the same questions over and over.” She said it all in a rush.

“It’s okay, Tenley. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks,” she said, going for another brownie chunk. “Someday I want to do book signings and appearances, but I’m not ready yet.”

I could picture Tenley, sitting behind a table with a line of people breathlessly holding books and waiting for her to give them a moment of her time and a signature inside their book.

“Do you ever mess up and use your real name?” I asked.

“No, it’s pretty easy to keep those two parts of my brain separate. Most of the time. It’s fun to be someone else,” she said.

“That sounds awesome. I’d love to be someone else sometimes,” I said.

“If only I could just be my author alter ego and abandon all my responsibilities,” she said. “I’d live like one of those real old-school romance writers with lots of caftans and assistants to cater to my every whim and a fantastic and opulent vacation home. No one would dare upset me.”

Tenley sighed.

Something warm spread in my chest at Tenley sharing these desires with me. Like I was getting let in on more of her secrets. I collected them all and held them close, each one like a little treasure.

“Sometimes I wish I could win the lottery and let myself get really weird. It wouldn’t matter if people thought I was weird because I’d be rich and their opinions wouldn’t matter. I’d get a bunch of strange pets and paint my house bright colors and grow hundreds of heirloom tomatoes and go on yoga retreats,” I said.

Tenley nodded. “I like the way your mind works, Mia.”

“Same,” I said, and we clinked our spoons together.

* * *

Yet again, there was no reason for me to still be at Tenley’s house, but here I was, watching silly reality shows and eating tons of ice cream and talking about everything and nothing.

There was an ease to being with Tenley that I couldn’t put my finger on. As much as I’d felt judged by her in high school, I didn’t anymore. Somehow. When had that changed?

My comfort with Tenley was very…uncomfortable. Not something I wanted to analyze or put too much thought into.

“You know, if you need me to put in a good word for you with a guy, I can vouch for your kissing skills,” she said after our second round of ice cream.

What made her say that?

“Thanks, I think?” I said.

“It’s true,” she said, staring at the TV. “You are a good kisser.”

Would it be weird to tell her that she was also a good kisser? That she was the best kisser I’d ever encountered in my life? No, her ego didn’t need any more boosting.

“Have you ever kissed another woman? I never asked you,” Tenley said. Well, shit.

“Once or twice,” I said. That wasn’t a total lie. It was just a lot more than twice.

Tenley leaned toward me a little. “Tell me.” Her golden eyes were intent on my face, as if she was hanging on my every word. I shifted, uncomfortable with this level of focus from her.

I guess this was it. I could no longer lie to her.

“I’m a lesbian,” I said, closing my eyes so I couldn’t see her reaction.

When she didn’t make a sound, I squinted my eyes open. Tenley stared at me with her mouth open. As if this new information had completely stunned her immoble.

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