Come Back to Me Page 6

  “Why don’t we go to my place and get warm?” Angie asked.

  They walked several blocks to the off-campus house. Angie opened the door for Meryl.

  “Jacqueline and Marissa went to visit their families for the weekend. We have the place to ourselves.” Angie walked to the thermostat. “Damn. I can’t believe they left it way down at sixty-four. It won’t take long for it to heat up.”

  Meryl’s heart skipped a beat when she realized they were alone.

  Angie turned around, and her dark eyes searched Meryl’s.

  “I don’t know what to do with these feelings,” Meryl whispered.

  “I want you to be sure, Meryl.”

  Meryl stared at Angie’s mouth. She moved closer so that their bodies touched. It felt much warmer than the actual temperature in the chilly living room—so much so, Meryl was sure that if she touched Angie, the skin on her fingers would come away heated.

  Angie ran her thumb along Meryl’s jaw. Meryl took in a shaky breath, but didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned forward.

  Angie’s lips met Meryl’s. The touch was the same as the other kisses they’d shared, yet it was so different. Angie’s kiss was gentle at first, as if she knew how fragile the moment was. Then Angie opened her mouth, allowing Meryl to explore. When their tongues met, Meryl felt a rush of heat between her legs. She moaned and entwined her fingers into the hair at the nape of Angie’s neck. When she tugged Angie closer, Angie’s jacket slipped off Meryl’s shoulders and fell around her feet.

  Angie pulled away. “Can we go to the bedroom?” she whispered in Meryl’s ear. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  “Yes.”

  They walked into the bedroom and stood beside the bed.

  “Do you mind if we stay dressed?” Meryl asked. “I mean, I know I’m being too modest, but—”

  Angie silenced her words with a kiss. She gently pushed Meryl back until they lay on the bed.

  Their breasts pressed together, and Meryl felt like she was on fire. Their kiss seemed never-ending. Meryl didn’t think. She acted on everything she held in her heart for Angie. She pushed her lips into Angie’s neck, moving her hands until they stopped above Angie’s breasts. Meryl brought her mouth to Angie’s ear.

  “I want to touch you. Can I touch you?”

  “Please.”

  Meryl ran her hand under Angie’s sweatshirt, edging up until she cupped Angie’s breast. “Oh,” she whispered when Angie’s nipple stiffened under her bra. “Oh, Ange.” She searched out Angie’s mouth again and plunged her tongue deep inside.

  In an instant, Angie was on top of her. Angie pushed her knee between Meryl’s legs. On instinct, Meryl raised her hips to meet the thrust of Angie’s thigh. Meryl inched her hand to her own jeans. She unsnapped them and pulled down the zipper. “Touch me. I need you to touch me.”

  Angie raised herself up on one knee and lowered her hand between them. She pulled Meryl’s jeans down enough to slip her fingers into her panties.

  “God, Meryl, you’re so beautiful.”

  Meryl raised her hips even more to allow Angie to go farther. She cried out at the contact.

  Angie’s hand stilled. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” Meryl whimpered. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” Meryl took hold of Angie’s hand and prayed she left no doubt as to what she wanted Angie to do.

  “Yes,” Meryl said between her short breaths. “Yes.” Her voice was low with want. Meryl pulled Angie’s mouth to her own again. Her body hardened against Angie’s, waiting in anticipation for something she’d never experienced before. Angie swallowed Meryl’s cries when she exploded into her orgasm. The pulsing aftershocks finished rippling through Meryl’s body, and Angie withdrew her hand.

  Angie lay down beside Meryl and held her in her arms.

  Meryl couldn’t speak for several moments until she came down from the dizzying height of her climax. She was aware, though, that Angie’s body was tense against hers.

  “Are you all right, Ange?”

  “I was about to ask you that.”

  Meryl looked up at Angie. “You’re not sorry are you?” She held her breath, waiting for Angie’s answer.

  “No. God, no. That’s not what you think, is it?”

  “Well, I didn’t know…”

  Angie lifted Meryl’s chin with her fingertips. “I was worried you might be sorry.”

  They lay in shadows, but the light from the living room down the hall trickled through the opened bedroom door, allowing Meryl to make out Angie’s dark brown eyes searching hers for an answer.

  Meryl leaned up on an elbow and kissed Angie, hoping she conveyed everything she held in her heart. She traced her finger along Angie’s lips.

  “I’ve never felt like this. I’ve never felt so loved. How could I ever be sorry for something so beautiful?”

  Angie kissed Meryl, a long, soul-rending kiss that promised of more to follow. She held Meryl in her arms again.

  As Meryl’s eyes grew heavy, she smiled in contentment. This was what it was all about.

  Chapter 9

  Key West, Present Day

  Angie arrived at the Cozy Conch at eight. A line of women waited outside, and she pushed her way to the front. Most of the women didn’t make much of an effort to let her through. In fact, a few made a point of rubbing their bodies against hers while she struggled toward the door. It wasn’t the first time she’d received a pass at her bar, but it still annoyed her.

  Someone shouted from the end of the line. “Hey! How come that bitch gets to crash the door?”

  “Sherri, that bitch is the owner. Now shut up, okay?”

  It didn’t appease the woman’s girlfriend.

  “I told you we needed to get here an hour earlier, Carla, but would you listen? Noooo.”

  “I can’t take you anywhere.”

  Angie pretended she hadn’t overheard the exchange and mumbled more “excuse me’s” until she entered the bar. She waved at friends who shouted their greetings.

  The bar was small, but Angie didn’t intend to add on to it. The more crowded and difficult it was to get in, the more the place gained in popularity. She’d learned that lesson from her aunt’s restaurant in Youngstown. Her aunt had added on to her Italian restaurant, and almost immediately, the clientele began to diminish. Nope, she wasn’t going to mess with success.

  She loved the décor of the bar. Fishnets hung from the ceiling and draped over the patrons. Other fishing and boating paraphernalia were scattered throughout. A huge marlin mounted on a slab of wood hung on the wall behind the worn but beautiful oak bar. Underneath, a sign read: “No, we didn’t catch it, but who gives a shit? It fits in, doesn’t it?” That always brought chuckles from any new customers.

  “Well, hello, gorgeous!”

  Angie heard Tim Redfield’s voice cut through the din.

  “I never can get over how beautiful your legs are,” Angie said, as she drew nearer to Tim, better known to everyone as “Sage Starr.” She motioned to the bar’s manager. “How about a Corona, Christi?” Angie stood between Sage’s stool and the one beside him. He’d dressed in a pair of white shorts and a baggy navy T-shirt, a total departure from what he’d transform into later in the evening.

  Christi grabbed a bottle out of the cooler full of ice. She sliced up a lime while Angie continued her conversation with Sage.

  “Check out those legs, girl. How do you keep so toned?” she asked him.

  “Clean living and hard work, darling.”

  “Okay. I get the hard work part. But clean living?” Angie nodded her thanks to Christi and took a sip of her beer.

  Sage slapped her on the arm. “Shut up. I’m not that bad.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Speaking of which, give me a mimosa, Christi, and don’t be shy with the champagne.”

  “There. You’ve proven my point.”

  “Don’t even go there, oh Queen of Coronas.”

  Angie choked and sputtered on her beer.


  Sage pounded her on the back. “There, there. The truth’s hard to swallow, isn’t it?”

  “You’re a bitch,” she said. The stool next to her cleared. “Is she returning?” Angie asked the woman on the other side.

  “Not if I can help it,” the soft butch answered with a scowl.

  Angie didn’t even want to know. She sat down.

  Christi handed Sage his drink.

  “Thank you, sweetie.” He took a sip and held it up in the air. “Love, you never disappoint me with your bartending skills. I hope Grumpy Gus here’s paying you enough.” He pointed to Angie’s bare legs. “You aren’t so bad yourself. You’re in such great shape from all the jogging you do on the beach. Christ, every time you pass my cottage, I expect to hear an orchestra playing the theme to Chariots of Fire.”

  Christi, who was taking a beer to the other end of the bar, laughed. “Good one, Sage.”

  “Please don’t encourage him, Christi.”

  “Let me feel the muscles in those tan legs of yours.” He squeezed Angie’s thigh right above her knee.

  “Hey!” she yelped. “You know I’m ticklish.”

  “Oh, poo. Quit trying to avoid the subject. You have to use a stick to beat back every lesbian who comes into this place, thinking they have a shot at you. Unbeknownst to them, you’re saving yourself for God knows what.” Sage flung his head as if he were flipping his short-cropped, bleached blond hair over his shoulder. “What’s your problem today?” He waved at the air around Angie. “From your aura, I sense some impending doom.”

  “A name from my past popped up out of nowhere and kind of threw me for a loop.”

  Sage peered at her from under his penciled eyebrows. “And…” He moved his hand in a circular motion.

  Angie remained mute.

  “Ahhh. So, that’s it. Let me guess. An old flame, an unrequited love, a love lost, a—”

  “Yes! Jesus, Sage, you’re right, okay?”

  “Touchy, touchy.” Sage grabbed Angie’s wrist and turned it so that the watch face was visible. “Time to go and make myself beautiful.” He finished his drink and stepped down from the stool, draping his arm around Angie. “Try not to let whoever did this get to you.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Sage kissed her on the cheek and left for the back room that served as a dressing room.

  “I would say ‘break a leg,’” she told him as he walked away, “but I know you have those babies insured.”

  “You better believe it.” Sage waved his thin, delicate fingers in the air. “Ta-ta.”

  Another thirty minutes passed as Angie sipped her beer and watched the mirror behind the bar. She saw Pam enter. Angie ordered a gin and tonic, along with another Corona. She weaved around the tables until she came to the one where Pam had taken a seat.

  “Here you go.” Angie handed the drink to Pam.

  “You had to be reading my mind.”

  “Nah. I know what it’s like to have a rough day.”

  Pam’s dark hair, still damp from her shower, cascaded onto her shoulders. She wore a form-fitting tank top and khaki shorts. Angie noticed she’d also added some makeup.

  “I’m cute, aren’t I?” Pam asked. “You’re asking yourself right now, ‘What had I been thinking for breaking up with her?’”

  “I guess I’m clueless, huh?”

  “As a matter of fact, you are.” Pam winked at her. She swirled the ice in her drink, staying focused on the glass. “You seemed a little down earlier. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  Pam raised her head. “How come I don’t believe you? I’ve heard that tone before.”

  Angie didn’t want to lie, but Pam didn’t need to know the full truth. “I’m all right. I can deal with it.”

  “I worry about you, Angie.”

  Angie smiled. “You’re too kind to me.”

  Pam squeezed Angie’s hand, then released it just as quickly. “Just because we’re not together doesn’t mean I like seeing you unhappy.”

  “What about you? Seeing anyone?”

  “So, that’s how it is. We can talk about me, but not about you. I’ll let you get away with it this time. Yes, Leona and I’ve been dating the past couple of months.”

  Leona was a mutual friend from when she and Pam had still been together. “Good for you, Pam.” And Angie meant it.

  “It is. I’m not sure where we’re headed, but I do know how much I like being with her. She’ll be in later.”

  Angie held up her beer and tilted it toward Pam. “I wish you only the best.”

  “Thank you.”

  They talked a while longer until Leona showed up. She leaned down to give Pam a brief kiss.

  “Angie, how are you?”

  Angie stood and held out her hand to Leona. “I’m good, and I seem to be in your seat. I’ll be going. It’s about time for Sage’s show, anyway.” She turned to Pam. “It’s been nice chatting with you. Enjoy the rest of the evening.”

  Angie tried not to let the sight of her ex and her girlfriend appearing so happy together get to her, but it wasn’t easy. Thankfully, it was time for her to perform one of her duties as owner of the Cozy Conch. She moved through the women to step up on the stage set up in the rear of the room. She stood in front of the microphone stand. A spotlight focused on her, blinding her temporarily.

  “Hi, ladies!”

  “Hi, Angie!” they shouted.

  “It’s nine-thirty on Tuesday night, and you know what that means. It’s time for Sage, our entertainment director, to get the show started. Would everyone please welcome Sage Starr and her wonderful supporting cast, the Starlettes!”

  The spotlight switched off, and the lights stayed up enough for Angie to hop off the stage. Then everything went dark. The sound system kicked in, and Diana Ross blared, “I’m Coming Out.” Five drag queens in various bright costumes with boas strutted on stage. Sage pranced out and danced with them in time to the music. The place went wild, and everyone joined in singing along. The song ended, the Starlettes danced off stage right, and Sage stepped up to the microphone.

  “How’re all you bitches doing?” he shouted.

  He received various responses, all in good humor, the most memorable being, “Who you calling a ‘bitch,’ bitch?”

  “Ooh, some of you haven’t gotten laid yet tonight! Testy, aren’t we?”

  Laughter rang out.

  “We’ll get started tonight with Ivana Mann singing her signature song, ‘Better Be Good to Me.’” He did a double twirl of his hand and pointed to the curtain. He hustled offstage, taking the microphone and stand with him. A tall African-American queen with gorgeous skin, equally gorgeous long legs, and a wild Tina Turner wig flung the curtain aside and strutted down the runway. Ivana lip-synced the lyrics with expert ease. She had all of Tina’s moves, too.

  Angie faded back to stand by the bar and watch. She loved every one of the performers. Each had her own diva personality, but none compared to Sage’s. All five queens did their thing with equal aplomb over the next hour. The last performer, a dead ringer for Bette Midler, asked for the microphone.

  “Ladies, you’re about to witness the amazing Cozy Conch debut performance of Ms. Liza Minnelli. Let’s give it up for Liza!”

  The stage went black. The spotlight came back on, focusing on Sage’s face. A black wig now covered his blond hair, and he wore long false eyelashes that made his eyes appear larger. The spotlight slowly panned out. A red-fringed dress completed the transformation. He held a black top hat over his wig-adorned head. One black-stockinged leg leaned on the wooden chair while the other stretched out to the side. Then he proceeded to do a perfect rendition of “Cabaret.” It was so lifelike that any moment, Angie expected Joel Grey to step onstage and join in.

  When Sage finished, the women in the bar came to their feet, roaring their approval, and dropping money on the stage. Angie craned her neck over the crowd and noticed there were twenties mixed in with the one-dollar bills.

>   After an intermission, the show ran another hour. Then they joined up again onstage to finish with RuPaul’s “It’s Raining Men,” all the while twirling umbrellas above their heads. The lights came up, and the dance mix kicked in. The women crammed onto the small dance floor at the side of the stage and began to writhe to the music.

  It was close to midnight when Angie decided to head home. She said her good-byes and made her way to the door.

  On her walk to her house, she thought about Pam and Leona. A pang of jealousy hit her. But it wasn’t about Pam finding a new love. It was about Angie missing an old one.

  * * *

  Lehigh University, Spring 1998

  Angie and Meryl lay on Angie’s bed. She thought Meryl was asleep after they’d made love, but felt her stir.

  “I can hear your heartbeat,” Meryl whispered.

  Angie didn’t say anything, trying to hold in the tears when she heard Meryl’s soft-spoken words. I’m in love with her, and it scares the hell out of me.

  “Ange?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m scared.” Meryl lay on her side to face Angie.

  Fear gripped Angie’s heart even tighter. Every time they made love, she was afraid this talk would come. It was spring break, and they were alone. Angie’s roommates were once again visiting their families out of town. Angie had remained, although Jan had visited at the beginning of the week. A friend had followed her to Lehigh so that Jan could give Angie her old Ford Escort for use around campus. Meryl had gone home for a few days and then returned on Thursday to be with Angie.

  Angie found her voice. “Afraid of…?” She tensed, waiting for Meryl’s answer. Everything felt so tenuous, like one wrong word or false move would shatter what they shared together.

  “I’m afraid of what happens after the semester ends when I go home to Pittsburgh, and you stay here. I’m not as strong as you are.”