Too Much Love
Chapter 47

Copyright© 2017 by Tom Frost

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 47 - Nick Coyle grew up not knowing about the billion-dollar legacy waiting for him on his eighteenth birthday. Money isn’t Nick’s only legacy, though. A dark history of excess and tragedy hang over both sides of his family. With the world suddenly offering him too much of everything and only five close friends to guide him, will Nick survive?

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   Reluctant   Romantic   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   Rags To Riches   Tear Jerker   Sharing   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Light Bond   Rough   Sadistic   Spanking   Group Sex   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Swinging   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Sex Toys   Big Breasts   Size   Caution   Nudism   Politics   Prostitution   Royalty   Slow  

When Emily’s phone rang up in the middle of the night, she relived several years of her life in the span of a few frightened heartbeats. She was in Clive’s apartment in New York and he’d arrived in the city unannounced. No, she’d left Clive and was living with Rini and Risi in Coney Island and Clive was calling to give her a chance to come crawling back. But no. She was in Milan. She’d fallen asleep in her bed after giving Kiki a proper send-off for a job in Tokyo. When she reached across the bed for her phone, the pillows still held Kiki’s scent, but the sheets were cold.

“Hello.” she answered, not looking at the number, wanting to preserve her ignorance of whatever was coming a second longer. Even so, she caught a glimpse. The number was international.

“Emily, it’s Brenda.”

“All right. Is he...” Emily couldn’t say the word.

“Clive is dead. He passed on while we were flying him home.” said Clive’s wife. “By all accounts, he went peacefully and suffered no pain.”

Emily smelled a lie there. Clive never did anything peacefully. And he certainly wasn’t the sort to die. Still, there were forms to follow. “Thank you for telling me, Brenda. How are you holding up?”

“I’m holding up. I have my family here.” said Brenda. “We’re going to be burying him on Tuesday. Will you come?”

“Do you want me to?” Emily asked.

“I do. We do. Clive’s girls were so much a part of his life and you’re the only one we even know by name.” said Brenda. “If you hadn’t called me, I’d still be waiting for him to come home and not knowing what had happened to him.”

For all that they’d spoke civilly, Emily couldn’t imagine Brenda really wanted to see her. She couldn’t imagine wanting her husband’s beautiful young mistress anywhere near his funeral. But when she hesitated, Brenda added, “Please come if you can.”

“Tuesday? I’m in Milan until at least Sunday.” Emily thought out loud. “I’ll have to see what arrangements can be made. If it’s possible, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.” Brenda let the words hang in the air for a second, then added. “I still have a lot of people to call who shouldn’t have to hear about this on the news.”

“Of course.” Emily hung up. She was naked and suddenly felt an enormous need to be clothed. Rifling through her dresser, she pulled on yoga pants, a sports bra, and a gray hooded sweatshirt. Facing herself with her wildly postcoital hair in the full-length mirror, she couldn’t decide if she looked like a madwoman or not. She finger-combed her hair as best she could and formulated a plan. In the morning, she would ask Nick or Tanvi to help her get to Sydney on time.

Right now at just before four in the morning, she didn’t want to be alone. Last night she’d been annoyed at Dennis. He’d gone off script on their relationship and been graceless in handling correction. The night before, she’d been ready to share Kiki with him. Last night, she’d been glad of the excuse of seeing Kiki off to not have to deal with him. Now, she needed him. There was no one else and Dennis had practically volunteered to be her boyfriend. Maybe he could be - at least for a night.

The courtyard was empty except for moonlight and the splash of someone swimming long, lazy laps in the pool. After days of seemingly-constant activity, she didn’t see a soul as she crossed from Jazz’s wing to Nick’s. The lonely walk was a stark reminder that she might live with Nick and his inner circle, but she wasn’t part of it. She hadn’t put any real roots down there. For the longest time, Clive had been the only connection she allowed herself and she’d forgotten the importance of being a part of something.

When she reached Dennis’s door, she braced herself for him to not be alone. That was their arrangement and it wasn’t fair for her to expect him to be alone just because she suddenly needed to be held. She knocked.

When no one answered, she knocked again and tried the knob. The door was unlocked. She stepped gingerly into the sitting room and looked around. The bedroom door was open. The bed was empty and made. Dennis wasn’t here.

Other things weren’t here either. Dennis’s guitar was missing. His suitcase was gone. Some clothes hung in the closet, but not nearly enough for a week. Emily felt a too-familiar chill in the pit of her stomach. Raised to prepare for the rapture, she could vividly remember finding herself unexpectedly alone in a place where she expected there to be people and getting a sick gnawing fear in her gut telling her that the world had ended and left her behind.

She knew now that such fear was stupid, but fear and stupidity always went hand-in-hand. Being afraid made you stupid. The only real bravery was in forcing yourself to act when all you really wanted was to curl up as small as possible until the fear passed you by.

She needed to see someone - to know that there were still other people in the world and they were real, not just ghosts sent to taunt her over the phone lines. Remembering the swimmer she’d heard, she returned to the courtyard and walked to the edge of the pool. Tanvi had somehow detected her presence because she emerged from the water smooth and sleek and brown in a small orange bikini, climbing the ladder. “How can I help you, Emily?”

Emily didn’t say what she really needed from Tanvi - that she be real and solid and human. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch. Instead, she said. “Clive is dead.”

“Oh.” Tanvi had been reaching down for a towel, but she came back up now and offered Emily what she desperately needed, but never would have expected from Nick’s efficient PA. As soon as Tanvi laid a hand on her shoulder, her body open and available, Emily found herself hugging the other woman, clinging to her. Tanvi was a full head shorter than Emily, but held her like a mother cradling a wounded child. Emily found herself sobbing with a deep sense of loss mingled with relief at Tanvi’s solidity.

Tanvi held her and seemed ready to hold her for hours or days if Emily needed. Emily finally broke the embrace. “Sorry.”

“What do you need?” Tanvi’s words were familiar, but there was fresh raw compassion behind them.

“I need to get to Sydney for the funeral on Tuesday. I’m ... not sure how late Jazz is going to need me on Sunday.”

“We’ll have a plane ready for you when you’re ready to go.” said Tanvi. “Would you like me to ask Jazz about your schedule and request any changes you might need?”

“Would you?” Emily sniffled.

“Of course. What else do you need?” Tanvi finally retrieved a towel long enough to dry her hands, arm, and face, then picked up her iPad. The compassion was less raw now, neatly smoothed over by a layer of professional competence.

“A drink maybe ... just to calm my nerves? I know this shouldn’t have come as much of a shock, but it did somehow.” Emily said.

Tanvi led her over to the wet bar. With no bartender on duty, the concierge became one. “Something you like or something to honor him?”

Emily found herself smiling at the question. “Single-malt scotch, please.”

Tanvi poured three fingers of Scotch into two tumblers, slid one across to Emily, and lifted the other. “To Clive Whitehall-Stone?”

“To Clive Whitehall-Stone.” Emily clinked glasses. She wasn’t ready to write his epitaph yet. After a long swallow, she coughed. “Christ, that is terrible.”

Tanvi put hers aside and shook her head. “I’m told it’s an acquired taste.”

“I always suspected Clive drank it just to prove he could.” said Emily. She looked across the bar. “I’m not getting you in trouble by asking you to drink on duty. Am I?”

“I’m not on duty. And the last time I was on duty, we had a three-hour wine tasting. I wouldn’t want to try to navigate the Service’s network smashed, but I’m never going to drink enough of that...” She gestured to her barely-touched glass of Scotch. “ ... for it to be a problem.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean to bother you when you weren’t working. You...”

“Emily.” Tanvi spoke her name quietly, but firmly. “It’s really all right. I’m not on-duty, but I’m almost never really off-duty either. And I like to help. What do you need?”

“Do you know where everybody is?” Emily asked.

“To some degree. Who were you looking for?” Tanvi slid her pad over in front of her.

“Dennis?” Emily asked.

Tanvi tapped her pad. “His flight left on time, so he’ll be on the plane for at least the next few hours.”

“What plane?” Emily asked, confused.

“Alitalia Flight 1128 from Milan to London. It will arrive...” Tanvi started to say.

“He’s flying to London?” Emily exclaimed.

Tanvi looked up. “He didn’t tell you?”

Emily shook her head. “He didn’t tell me. How long has he been planning this?”

“He asked me to find him a flight at 10:35. His car left just before one.” said Tanvi. “He mentioned he was considering it before, but that was the first time he indicated he’d made a decision.”

Emily frowned. She’d spoken to Dennis only briefly tonight - long enough for him to ask if she was planning to be with Kiki tonight and her to tell him yes because Kiki was headed to Tokyo. But she had no idea if the conversation had happened before or after 10:35. Whichever it had been, Emily wouldn’t like the answer. She slumped back on her stool. “Do you know where Nick is?”

“His bedroom.” said Tanvi.

“Alone?” Emily asked hopefully.

“Probably not.” said Tanvi. “Pilar is almost certainly there with him at least.”

Emily weighed the possibility. Nick and Pilar had been very sweet to her when she’d first heard about Clive’s injuries - at least insomuch as they’d gotten her good and drunk and not taken advantage of that state. She was weighing the pros and cons of going to see them at this hour for this news when something penetrated her mind. “Did you say ‘at least?’”

“I did. In spite of the impression we like to give, I don’t actually know where everybody is at all times. Pilar’s probably with him right now because she’s with him most nights. But beyond that is speculation.” said Tanvi.

“Who else could be there?” Emily asked. “Kiki’s on a flight to Tokyo.”

“Even if I knew the answer to that, I couldn’t say.” said Tanvi. “SSCS takes the privacy of our clients very seriously.”

“Shit.” Emily ran her hand through her hair and looked skyward. She could maybe go to Max, but she was pretty sure he’d been hooking up with Casey all week. Everybody she could go to had left or was with someone else. It was starting to feel like the end of the world all over again.

“What can I do to help?” Tanvi asked.

“I don’t know.” Emily scanned the sky like there were answers up there. “I just ... really don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

After a moment, Tanvi laid a hand on hers on the bar. “You don’t have to.”

Emily looked down startled. “Seriously? Is that service really extended to the outer circle?” She hated the bitterness in her voice.

“It’s not a service at all.” Tanvi didn’t sound offended. “We’re both here and up because we don’t want to sleep alone tonight. It seems like the solution selects itself.”

Emily took a moment to look around the empty courtyard, not sure if she wanted to be seen or avoid being seen. “Yeah. All right. I’d like that.”

In Emily’s room, Tanvi started to say. “Can I borrow a...” when Emily wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed the crook of her neck.

Tanvi tilted her head to expose herself to the kiss. “Just ... for the record, this wasn’t necessarily what I meant.”

The word “necessarily” emboldened Emily. She unhooked the towel Tanvi had wrapped around her waist and held it so that her hand was the only thing keeping it from falling to the floor. “Does that mean I should stop?”

“No.” Tanvi spoke decisively as she turned in Emily’s arms. “It doesn’t mean that at all.”


Alexis wasn’t quite sure she’d heard Rifkeh’s answer correctly. She’d asked what the young Israeli woman wanted to do on their last day before Nick and his friends returned and the answer had been...

“Did you say shoeing ... like as in shoe shopping?” Alexis asked.

“No. I’ve got plenty of shoes. I said ‘shooting... ‘ like at a gun range.” said Rifkeh.

“I’m not sure you can do that here legally.” said Alexis uncertainly. “New York City gun laws are pretty strict.”

“So I heard. Zola was explaining all this to me yesterday. She says we can go somewhere in New Jersey where Gibraltar Security has a private range. I was planning to go yesterday, but I thought you two might like to join me and you didn’t get back from the sex club until almost three in the afternoon.” said Rifkeh. “I wouldn’t have guessed that sex clubs had a lot going on in the morning.”

“This one had a brunch.” said Shelby. “And I’d love to join you.”

“Seriously?” Rifkeh and Alexis asked her at the same time.

“Yes, they seriously had a brunch. It was really nice.” said Shelby. “And yes. I would really like to go shooting in New Jersey. My guns are back in the Mills, but I assume we can rent or borrow some. You two should come.”

“I’m in.” said Cat. “I haven’t touched a gun in years, but I think I still remember everything.”

“Wait wait. Back up.” Alexis made a time-out gesture and looked at Shelby. “You own guns as in plural? Since when?”

“My father gave me a Sig Sauer P238 shortly after we moved to the Mills and I bought myself a Kahr CW9 later that year because the Sig didn’t fit in any of my cute purses.” said Shelby.

“All right. It’s kind of fucked up that I didn’t know that, but whatever.” said Alexis. She turned to Cat. “I thought you grew up on a hippie commune.”

“Hippies with guns.” said Cat. “We lived out in the Oregon wilderness and grew weed before it was cool to do so. We needed to be ready to defend ourselves from all sorts of predators.”

“Maybe I should sit this one out.” said Alexis. “I managed to live my whole life so far in Brownfield Mills and never touch a gun. It seems weird to start just as I’m about to leave.”

“That’s cool.” said Shelby casually. “I’ve been looking for a chance to tell Cat and Rifkeh about what happened at Gehenna without embarrassing you.”

“You can’t do that.” exclaimed Alexis. “I would be way more embarrassed if I had to imagine what you were saying. Could you ... maybe wait to tell them until we’re all here tonight?”

“Nope.” Shelby shook her head. “If you want a part of this conversation, you should really come, Porkchop.”

“Oh, God...” Alexis wanted to die of embarrassment.

“Why do you call her Porkchop?” Rifkeh asked.

“I’ll explain in the car.” said Shelby.

Alexis wasn’t sure why she even bothered to protest. She was going to do what Shelby wanted. She’d pretty much always done what Shelby wanted even before they’d become lovers and before Shelby had shown an almost diabolical willingness to take advantage of her submissive streak. If Shelby wanted her to fire a gun, she’d fire a gun even though she’d always felt a heavy sickness in the pit of her stomach every time she saw a gun. Hell, if Shelby wanted her to shoot a gun into a person, Alexis would probably wind up doing it. If this week had been to get Shelby out of her system, it had backfired magnificently. She was so in love with her best friend.

Once they were in the car, Shelby said. “So, I do have a small request of everyone.” When all three women were looking at her, she went on. “If we’re going to a Gibraltar Security Services facility, these are going to be potential coworkers of mine. I’d like to make a good first impression. I’m already a little concerned about what might happen if anybody asks the front door guys about me. They probably think I’m a shopaholic.”

“Does that mean you think you’re not a shopaholic?” Alexis asked, knowing she was being unhelpful.

“I can quit any time I want.” said Shelby fliply. “But seriously? Anybody who’s got control over some aspect of my future, I’d rather that not be the first thing they learn about me. People build models of you in their head with what they know and fill the blank spaces with their prejudices.”

“If I credit you, can I use that? I speak about sexual identity at a lot of cons.” said Cat.

“You’d have to credit my father, Sherman ‘Tank’ Carson. He told me that word for word more than once.” said Shelby. “But, I’m pretty sure he’d prefer anonymity to being credited at all.”

“Even better. People will just think I’m the clever one.” said Cat.

“These might be my coworkers one day too.” Rifkeh piped up. “I should have dressed better.”

Alexis looked at Shelby’s smart black, faintly masculine pantsuit compared to Rifkeh’s desert camouflage pants and yellow tank shirt. “You look like you’re dressed for shooting anyway. I’m not sure my skinny jeans were a good choice. Where did you get those pants? I don’t remember you buying them.”

“IDF standard issue.” said Rifkeh. “I never did any desert operations, but they’re really comfortable for target practice.”

“So, you’re thinking about applying for a job with Gibraltar?” Alexis probed.

“Mostly, I’m thinking about taking your advice and asking Nick for a job. But if he has one for me, it’ll probably be security. Being an MP doesn’t really prepare you for much but that and civilian police.” said Rifkeh.

“You’ve been working for Nick for a little while now, Cat. How has it been?” Shelby asked.

“Sunshine and rainbows so far.” said Cat. “This job is a lot more administrative than I’m used to. Usually, I just draw and paint and let somebody else handle budgets and schedules and planning, but I’m looking forward to the possibility of having control of something from concept to completion for once.”

“Okay. But how is Nick as a boss?” Shelby probed.

“He’s not really. It’s more like he’s a parallel creative person on this project and Gin is our boss. He has these huge binders of ideas we’re trying to distill into a product. He calls this his vanity project, but he’s really deferential. I don’t think Gin or I have suggested a change he hasn’t loved yet.” Cat said. “Of course, we’re clearly still in the honeymoon period.”

“Are you thinking about working for Nick, too?” Alexis asked Shelby.

“If I get into the Gibraltar internship program, I’ll be working towards a career with Gibraltar. And Nick needs the kind of services I want to specialize in even if he doesn’t know it yet.” said Shelby.

“You’re planning to be a bodyguard?” asked Rifkeh.

Partly to save Shelby from having to answer that, Alexis asked. “You think Nick needs a bodyguard?”

“I think he needs to take his personal security more seriously than he does. Any potential kidnapper looking to raise a quick million dollars has to be considering him as a priority target, but I’ve seen him out on the street without a security detail at least once.” said Rifkeh.

Alexis frowned. “This is New York City, not Tel Aviv. People don’t just get snatched off the streets here.”

Shelby and Rifkeh gave her nearly identical looks - incredulity, pity, and maybe a little bit of envy that she could get away with being so naive. She added. “Do they?”

“Imagine you had a million dollars worth of diamonds in your purse.” said Shelby.

“Okay.” said Alexis.

“You want to take those diamonds to a jeweler uptown to be appraised. Do you take the subway?” Shelby asked.

“I’d be awfully nervous if I did.” admitted Alexis.

“Right. And you probably wouldn’t want to write the words ‘bag of diamonds’ on the side of your purse and sing ‘Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friends’ while having everyone call you ‘Diamond Lil’ during this trip. Would you?” Shelby asked.

“I’m not a very good singer.” said Alexis.

“You’re worse than that.” said Shelby. “But, let’s say that for some reason, you had to do all that - take a million dollars worth of diamonds in a bag marked ‘pretty diamonds’ while singing and tap dancing about diamonds. Would you want some security with you?”

“Uh, sure - probably just to keep people from taking pictures of the crazy lady with all the diamonds and putting them online.” said Alexis.

“And to keep them from being stolen, I assume.” said Shelby. “Even though this is New York City and people don’t just go around snatching bags of diamonds every day?”

“So, Nick’s like a bag of diamonds?” Alexis asked.

“A great big bag of diamonds marked ‘diamonds here’ who sometimes dispenses diamonds at random.” said Shelby. “People don’t really know his name and face very well yet, but once they do and they know where he lives, he’s going to be a huge sitting target - not just for criminals, but for every crackpot in the world. He’ll definitely need some personal defense.”

Alexis considered that. “But, Jesse didn’t have any bodyguards, did he? He drove us all the way down to Gehenna and I never saw one.”

“His driver was probably security trained.” said Shelby. “And Gehenna has a lot of rich members. I bet they have some sort of perimeter security we never saw. If I get a chance, I should ask Uncle Al about it.”

“So ... Gehenna?” Cat asked, curiosity clear in her eyes. “I’ve been kind of dying to ask about it.”

Shelby launched into an explanation starting with when they’d left the Loft. She left out a few names, but gave a blow-by-blow. In spite of having imagined she would be mortified to talk about it, Alexis found herself answering questions from Cat and Rifkeh and sharing her own reactions to the demonstration they’d seen. Listening to Shelby share her analysis of her own interplay with Jesse made Alexis realize there had been an entire subtext she’d missed. She did find herself flushing over how obviously she’d been drooling over Jesse, but it wasn’t much of an exaggeration.

Shelby left out Allegra’s name, referring to her as “this really elegant blonde woman who wouldn’t look out of place at the Oscars” and glossed over some of the details of her flogging training, focusing mostly on the feather duster and the wiffle bat, but telling the whole story right down to how the night ended. Alexis doubted she would have been able to state things quite as boldly as Shelby, but she felt oddly proud of what they’d done.

“So, wait. You two had sex with Jesse Stone ... both of you ... at the same time?” Rifkeh asked.

“Well, technically one at a time.” said Shelby. “There was only one of him and he has the expected number of appendages, but we were all there together.”

“This is a ... very different world from the one I’ve lived in.” said Rifkeh. “Am I going to be expected to be as interesting as you two if I work for Nick?”

“No, of course not.” Alexis reassured her.

“‘Expected’ is a strong word.” said Shelby.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alexis asked. “Nick really doesn’t seem like the sort to push people to go to sex clubs and have threesomes. That’s pretty much on you.”

Shelby laughed. “You wanted to be pushed, porkchop.”

Alexis flushed and lowered her head. “I can’t argue with the results.”

“You still haven’t explained why you started calling Lexi ‘Porkchop.’” said Rifkeh. “Is it because she’s clearly not kosher?”

“Ah, yeah. No. On the way over, Jesse warned us that bringing us to the club was like showing a pair of succulent pork chops to a pack of wolves.” said Shelby. “I called her that kind of as a joke, but it seemed to turn her on.”

“It did.” squeaked Alexis. “I really am a freak.”

Shelby hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “Maybe. I felt like a freak when I was with Beck. Last night, it just felt like who I am. When we were at Gehenna, surrounded by people who were all kinds of freaky and completely shameless about it, it was easier. That’s what I mean about Nick.”

“Wait. What?” Alexis frowned.

“Ah. You haven’t been here to really see this, but Nick is very openly in a relationship with Pilar and Kiki.” said Shelby.

“I know.” said Alexis.

“Ah, you know. But, you don’t see it every morning at breakfast. They come out and it’s normal. People made fun of Nick for like ten minutes the first time it happened, but after that it just kept happened.” Shelby turned to Cat. “You’re comfortable being out while working for Nick, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’m already way out. If you google me, the first page is full of videos where I’m talking about my sexuality.” said Cat. “Nobody’s going to hire me who isn’t okay with that. Still ... I think it’s been a lot easier for Casey to be comfortable with our relationship around the Loft than she was when we were on the con circuit and she had to go home to her family after each visit. Poly communities can be like that, too. People see what we’re getting away with and they start to wonder if they can’t get away with what they want too - even if it’s not poly.”

“When we were in school, did you ever suspect Arwen Dickinson might be bisexual?” asked Shelby.

“God, no. She hated other girls.” said Alexis. “Is she?”

“Maybe. She definitely seems more open to the possibility and a lot more comfortable among other women now.” Shelby said. “You never said anything when we were in school either. BMHS just wasn’t a welcoming environment for it. You would have gotten shit for it. I would have gotten shit for being your friend. Charlie would have had to hear about it. Guys would have been constantly trying to get us to make out for their amusement.”

Alexis sighed. “Mostly I was afraid that if it ever got out, you wouldn’t want to be friends. I think I could have put up with the rest of it if I just knew you’d stick around - even if you didn’t return my feelings.”

“I like to think I would have. I did some things I wasn’t proud of to avoid shit from idiots in the Mills.” Shelby sighed. “I doubt we would have gotten together though.”

“Really?” Alexis felt her heart sink.

Shelby drew her in and kissed her. “My life would have been the poorer for it. But, I would have had to overcome my own uncertainty and a bunch of cavemen trying to make me feel bad for even considering it. Even with Kiki and Jenny running around, it was kind of a near thing. I think I would have figured it out eventually, but we would have lost more time.”

“Who’s Jenny?” Alexis frowned.

“She’s a friend of Kiki’s - like Kiki, but moreso - less stable and more self-destructive, I think. You might have met her on the Fourth.” said Shelby. “When I was freaking out over the fact that you had actual feels for me, I got drunk and spilled my guts to her. She stole my phone and invited you to come back.”

“That wasn’t you?” Alexis thought she should be outraged, but said what she really felt. “I should probably thank her, I guess.”

“You should probably avoid her.” said Shelby. “She would eat you alive.”

Alexis got a weird feeling. “Did she eat you?” Realizing how the question sounded, she blushed again. “I mean ... uh, that I guess, but I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I don’t remember a lot of it, but ... yeah. I think so.” Shelby looked embarrassed now.

“You got drunk and cheated on me? You hussy!” Alexis said, but she was laughing. “I thought I was the only woman in your life.”

Shelby hugged her and didn’t answer. Alexis said. “You know, I should have suspected you weren’t the one texting me. She used a lot of exclamation points, didn’t she?”

“I know.” said Shelby. “I think I might have been more definitely outraged about her ruining my reputation for good punctuation than I was about her sending a text I really wanted to send, but wasn’t sure I should.”

“I guess you don’t mind being pushed once in a while either.” Alexis said smugly.

“I can’t argue with the results.” Shelby kissed her again.

“I think I get what you mean about expectations when being around Nick.” said Rifkeh.

Alexis had completely lost the thread of that conversation and wasn’t sure how what they were saying tied back into it. “How so?”

“Well, Nick and his friends haven’t even been here, but after a week of hanging out with you three, I feel kind of ... awkward being straight.” admitted Rifkeh.

Cat winced. “I hope we haven’t done anything to make you feel awkward.”

“No. You haven’t done anything except be comfortable with who you are.” said Rifkeh. “It’s like living inside a Baskin Robbins.”

“The ice cream place?” Alexis asked.

Rifkeh nodded. “When we lived on the kibbutz, we would go into town sometimes and get soft serve ice cream. I didn’t like the way their chocolate tasted, so I always got vanilla. If that was the only ice cream place I ever went to, I’d probably have eaten vanilla my whole life. But one day it Tel Aviv, we went to a Baskin Robbins and they had like a million flavors.”

“Thirty one.” said Shelby.

“I think the number’s different in Israel, but the point’s the same.” Rifkeh went on. “I walked in thinking I liked vanilla ice cream and all of a sudden, there’s pistachio and mint chocolate chip and rum raisin and there’s vanilla too, but am I really so provincial that I’m going to get vanilla when there are all those other flavors? Now that I’ve been around you three for a while, I’m starting to wonder the same thing. Am I really going to just be the first thing I ever learned about because I was out in the sticks or am I at least going to ... I don’t know ... wrestle with another girl and see if I like it.”

 
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