night after night (camren)

34.

Lauren shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Fuck off to you, too. I'll catch you later"

......

After hanging up, she pushed open the door, brushed off the drops of water on her suit jacket, and weaved her way to Lucy, who was perched on a stool at the bar. Lucy waved when she saw her, and as Lauren reached her, Lucy wrapped the girl in a hug, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"You don't have an umbrella" Lucy said, wagging her finger.

Lauren loosened her dark green tie, unknotting the damn thing. "I'm basically a man. Men don't carry umbrellas"

"I'm a woman. I carry a big umbrella" she said, tipping her forehead to the umbrella holder by the door, "Mines the polka-dot one about four-feet high"

"Is that supposed to be a substitute for something, Lucy?"

"Oh yes. You've figured me out. I have penis envy, so I carry a large stick" Lucy patted the wooden stall next to her. "Sit. Have a drink"

"I need one" Lauren said, taking off her jacket and tossing it on the back of the stool. "Whiskey. Straight up" she told the bartender.

When the glass of amber liquid arrived, she downed it in one quick swallow then ordered another. That glass warmed the same treatment. Lucy arched an eyebrow, "Shit day?"

"Shit week" she muttered, running a hand roughly through her hair. She was sure her hair was standing up, unkempt. She'd been pushing her hands through it all week, as if the motion would somehow ease the coiled frustration that had taken up residence in her bones and bloodstream, courtesy of one Camila Cabello. It made no sense to her. She'd studied it from all angles, turned it inside and out and around. She didn't understand how they could have had the time together they did - a weekend that was unforgettable - and then descended into radio silence.

"Talk to me" Lucy said, placing a gentle hand on Lauren's arm. She looked down at Lucy's  hand. Everything about her was familiar and safe. She'd known her for years, and though she'd never put her hands on her again after that one drunken kiss in college, there was something comforting about her.

Maybe because they were long-time friends; maybe because she was a shrink. She helped people for a living. Maybe she could help her make sense of that woman's exodus.

"Fine" she said, because the alcohol had already loosened her up. She wanted to jettison this tangle of anger and hurt from her chest. "You ready for this?"

"The doctor is in session" Lucy said, sitting up straight and proper. "Only for an after-hours session, I insist on another one of these" she tapped the glass.

She ordered another round as Lauren began talking.

"I met someone" she started, then told her the story. Not every detail. She wasn't about to confess that she'd had a raging hard-on for the last week and refused to do anything about it because she knew she'd think of Camila, and she wanted to stop thinking of her fiery brunette. She didn't tell Lucy either that making love to that woman had been the most intense sexual encounter of her life. Camila was her perfect partner in every way - in the bedroom, and outside the bedroom. She'd never enjoyed a woman's company as much as hers, and she'd felt like they could do anything together. "We had a great time. A perfect weekend. And we were falling for each other. I was sure if it. Talked about seeing each other again, making a go of it" she said and Lucy's features tightened; her lips pursed as Lauren told her about the plans they made for a long-distance affair. "Everything seemed like it was clicking on all cylinders. Every single thing"

Lucy drew in a sharp breath, "Every thing?" Her voice sounded strained as if the question were hard for her.

"Yeah" Lauren said, trying to keep the desire out of her voice. Her throat was parched just thinking about Camila. "We had a connection"

"Oh. I thought you meant. . ." Lucy said, then let her voice trail off as she blushed.

She had meant that, but she didn't intend to share details of her sex life with Alexa's sister. What a woman did behind closed doors, or in a town car, or in a restaurant in Studio City - she shifted uncomfortably, recalling Camila's stoic orgasm at & Waffles as she worked her over under the table - was between the woman and their partner. Only the woman she wanted had run; Camila didn't want her business. "But the next morning, she was out of here like a bat out of hell. So tell me, Lucy. Tell me, my wise little shrink. What am I missing? Is she secretly craving me and can't figure out how to tell me?" she asked, laying it on the line as she ached for an explanation, "Cause I fucking miss her, and I want her in my life. Did I miss a cue from her? Fuck something up? Is there something I should be doing?"

Lucy didn't answer right away. She reached for her glass and took a long drink. After she set it down, she looked straight at Lauren, her dark-brown eyes both intense and caring, "I'm going to be blunt. I'm going to be direct, and talk to you like I would talk to one of my patients. And here's the thing, Lauren" she said, reaching out to place her hand on Lauren's thigh. "That's not how a woman behaves when she likes someone"

Lauren's shoulders sank and she sighed heavily, "Yeah?"

Lucy nodded, "She's history. I hate to say it, because clearly you have it bad for her, but she ran. Maybe there's something in her life that's tying her down. Maybe she has some deep, dark past. Maybe she'd secretly married and really only could manage one weekend with you. But if she truly had a great time and truly was open to dating long-distance like she claimed, then she'd have called you when her flight landed. She'd have texted you. She'd be, I don't know" Lucy said, forcing out a laugh, "sending you naughty pictures"

Lauren winced, and her dick rose to attention at the thought of a naughty picture of Camila appearing on her home screen. Maybe a shot of her topless, of those full luscious breasts that she longed to lick and kiss and squeeze. Or that ass, so round and sexy, and calling out for a spanking. In her mind, she could hear the sounds of her palm smacking her ass, the sharp slap, and the surprised oh that would fall from Camila's lips, followed by a moan. Camila liked spankings. Lauren was pissed that she hadn't had the chance to smack her ass more than once.

She wanted to slam her fist against the bar, "So the lack of naughty shots on my phone is the surest sign that this woman is history" she said through tight lips, barely wanting to acknowledge the cold hard truth Lucy was laying out for her.

Lucy flashed her a sympathetic smile, "Yes, Lauren. She'd history. When a woman wants to be with someone, she makes the effort to see them, to call them, to spend time with them, just as they do for her. She aspires to be honest and upfront. To share her heart. Besides, that's what you deserve" she said, and squeezed Lauren's arm.

For a second there it felt as if she lingered on the raven haired girl's bicep. But maybe it was the booze making Lauren's mind fuzzy. Which reminded her - she needed another drink.

By the time she left, she was pretty damn sure she was buzzed. Walking to the subway stop two blocks away, she changed that assessment as the cabs and cars and lights around her grew fuzzier. She wasn't buzzed. She was drunk. So drunk, she saw no reason why she shouldn't text Camila as she headed down the steps to the platform, reaching for her phone from her pocket, missing it the first time. She nearly stumbled onto the subway car as her fingers flew across the screen.

I can't stop thinking about you.

She hit send, then cursed herself, and wished she could take it back. She was going to get nothing in return from Camila, and that would only make the girl's exit burn more.

When she emerged on Cantura Street, she hoped that maybe the gods of drunk-texting were looking out for her. That perhaps there'd been no signal underground, and she'd be saved from her own stupid desires for Camila.

But there it was, in her sent messages, mocking her traitorous heart.