“You were otherwise occupied?” Ronnie couldn’t help smiling at her friend’s discomfort. “That must have been awful.”


Rose nodded. “We weren’t exactly doingbut we were pretty close. And it was awful. She grounded me for the rest of the school year and I had extra chores from then on.”


“Jeez, I hope your next date went better.” Ronnie opened the bottle of polish and resumed her task.


“He wouldn’t go out with me again after the way she yelled at him. She called his parents too. I was humiliated. He wouldn’t even talk to me at school because he got into so much trouble too.”


“We all have our embarrassing moments,” Ronnie said gently, giving the hand within hers a squeeze.


“Your turn. Tell me about Chris.” The brush stopped mid-nail and the older woman’s face looked like she swallowed the wrong way.


“Um, Chris?” Her voice squeaked and she had to clear it. “Who told you about Chris?”


“Susan said Chris hurt you very badly. What did he do?”


Ronnie felt her heart pick up speed and licked her lips nervously. “What did Susan tell you?”


“Just that Chris hurt you badly. She didn’t say anything more. I’m sorry, if you don’t want to…”


“No, it’s all right,” she returned her attention to the hand she was holding.She looked up at the gentle face, trying to gauge her reaction. “Um…I met Chris while I was at Stanford.”


“How long did you two go out?”


“We were together for about three and half months. I was young and in love and I guess…Chris wasn’t.”


“What did he do?”


“Betrayed me.” There was a touch of the long ago hurt in her voice. “After I broke it off, Chris called my parents and asked for money.” She mentally cursed herself for letting Rose believe that her ex-lover was a man but still found she couldn’t bring herself to utter the hidden truth.

“Threatened to take our relationship public.”


“Oh that’s terrible!” Rose gasped. “No wonder you don’t date much.”


“Much?” Ronnie gave a short laugh. “I haven’t seriously dated anyone in years. I have an escort service I use for formal affairs.”


“Not worth the hassle, eh?”


“Absolutely not worth it,” the dark-haired woman said emphatically. “Okay, you’re done.” She released the smaller hand, deliberately drawing her forefinger along the length of Rose’s as they separated. “This is the quick drying stuff. Give it a minute, then you’ll be all set. So I got to pick your color, you pick mine.”


Green eyes perused the various shades before deciding on one. “Now you are someone who can wear the deep reds. I think this would look nice on you.” She held up a dark shade called Heart.

“You know that red blouse you wore last week? This shade would be perfect with that.” She focused on the strong hands resting in Ronnie’s lap. “You have strong hands. Not bony at all. Must be all that working out.” Deciding her nails were dry enough, Rose took the older woman’s hand in hers.


, Ronnie thought to herself. Sharing a bed did not allow her the privacy she usually had late at night to relieve herself in another way. She tried hard not to think about how nice it felt to hold hands with Rose, even if they were both being careful not to smudge the freshly painted nails. The warmth, the softness…with a start she realized the young woman was speaking to her. “I’m sorry, what?”


“Nothing, I was just teasing.”


“What did you say?”


“I asked if you worked out so much because you were frustrated.” Rose blushed at her attempt at a bold joke. “Because you’re down in that gym so often.”


Ronnie chuckled. “If that was the case, I’d be down there all the time. Of course there are other ways to take care of that problem,” she said, deciding that she liked the pretty color rising to the young woman’s cheeks.


“Uh, yes there are,” Rose agreed, looking down. She finished the nail she was working on in silence. It wasn’t common for her to discuss sex with anyone and she felt like a teenager, curious and embarrassed at the same time. “Do you do that?” she practically whispered as she brought the brush to the next fingernail.


“Everyone does that, Rose.”


“Yeah, I’m sure they do, I just didn’t think…I mean I can’t imagine…” The image of Ronnie touching herself formed in her mind for an instant before she forced it away. “I don’t mean that I imagine you…well…you know…I mean…” She stammered to a stop, having now fully embarrassed herself. “Oh God, this topic was my idea?” She laughed and shook her head. “I guess I should have picked something I had a little more experience in.”


“You’re cute when you blush, you know.” Ronnie gave a big smile and jerked her head back at the mock pass at her nose with the polish brush. “Obviously we’ve both had bad luck when it came to romance.”


“You know that doesn’t mean you won’t ever find love again.” She began working on the last nail. “You’re a very special woman, Ronnie. Any man would be lucky to have you…oops.” She reached over and grabbed a cotton ball to wipe away the errant swipe of polish from the thumb.


“Yeah, well maybe someday I’ll find someone, but I’m not worried about it.” She held her hand up and smiled. “You did a good job, Rose. They look great.”


“Thanks, you did too.” She held up her own hand for comparison. “Hey, look how much smaller my hand is compared to yours.” She pressed their palms together and giggled at the difference.


“So what do you want to do now?” Ronnie asked, not making any move to withdraw her hand. She didn’t want it to end—not yet. “The night is still young. I know, how about we braid each other’s hair?”


“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Rose happily agreed. “I love your hair. I bet you’d look really cute in one of those French braids.”


“Whatever you want to do. I trust you not to make me look like Heidi the Swiss Miss Girl.”


“Ohh.” The fair-haired woman gave a fake pout. “But you’d look so cute.”


“And just what do you think I’d make you look like if you did that?” Ronnie chuckled. “Do you want me to do your hair first?”


“No, I wanna do yours first. You have nice hair. Besides, you have to give those nails another minute or two to dry.” The older woman obliged, turning around so her back was to Rose. Blue eyes fluttered shut at the feel of gentle fingers sinking into her hair. The soft, melodic voice drifted in. “So thick and long. I don’t know how you manage not to spend hours brushing it.”


“I talented,” Ronnie said with a grin. “And I have a damn good hair dryer,” she added.


“It’s very pretty,” Rose whispered, pulling her fingers through the sable strands. “When the light shines on it, some parts seem almost jet black while others seem lighter, like a chestnut.”


“It does get a little lighter in the summer. I figure it’s from all the chlorine in the pool.”


“Mmm.” Rose began to twist the hair into a braid. “I bet you were happy to have the pool last summer. Albany was absolutely scorching.”


“Does yours get lighter? I bet it does.”


“Yeah, it becomes so pale that it’s almost saffron.” Small fingers continued to twist the dark hair, careful to keep the braid straight. They kept up the chit-chat but Rose’s concentration was on what her hands were doing, not what they were talking about. When she reached the end and tied it off, her fingers automatically landed on the broad shoulders before her. She experimented by squeezing gently and was rewarded with a deep groan. “Sounds like you could use a massage.”


“I’d love one,” Ronnie replied, leaning into the pressure. “You’ve got a great touch.”


“Thank you.” She slipped her fingers and thumbs under the neck of the T-shirt and began kneading the muscles hidden under warm flesh. Rose moved as far as the opening would let her giving a gentle tug on the shirt.


“You don’t have to do that.”


“I know, I want to.” She gave another tug. “It’s not like there’s anyone else here to do it, and besides, if I can’t give my best friend a backrub, who can?” She moved her hands out of the way as the light gray shirt was removed.


“That’s nice,” Ronnie murmured.


“What’s nice?”


“Best friend.” She turned to meet soft green eyes. “That goes both ways, you know. I’ve never had anyone I could talk to like you.” On impulse she pulled Rose into a hug.


At first the young woman was startled but then she relaxed against the warmth of the bare skin. With her face buried in the crook of Ronnie’s neck, she inhaled the mixture of perfume, soap, and the older woman’s own scent. As the embrace continued, she became cognizant of where her forearm rested against the swell of bared breasts. She had never touched another woman’s breasts before and found herself curiously focused on the new sensation. They were soft, warm…for a brief instant she had the urge to cup one in her hand, to feel its weight, but Ronnie’s body shook with a chuckle and the spell was broken. “What?”


“I said I know I’m soft but you can’t sleep there,” the dark-haired woman teased.


“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just…I um…” Rose’s face colored and her mind refused to offer up any excuses.