Ria should go comfort her

RIA

Shane nodded, “Maybe you should go talk to her.”

“But I don’t want to leave you all alone.”

He groaned, rolling onto his back and idly stroking his still erect cock. “She needs you more than I do right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Go on, get outta here.”

I briefly flashed back to that first night we all met, when Tracy was whining to me about what a “sweet guy” Shane was—like it somehow made him less masculine. Maybe over the past three years she’d finally learned to appreciate what a great quality that actually is in a man.

I gave him a tender kiss on the cheek, quietly tiptoed over to Tracy’s room, and whispered through the door:

“Tracy, honey? I’m gonna come inside and keep you company, if that’s alright.”

With a choked voice, she softly answered, “Okay.”

She was curled up in a fetal position beneath the covers. Without saying a word, I hopped into bed beside her, cradled her head against my chest, and soothingly rubbed her back until she stopped crying.

“You could hear me crying?” she said at last.

“Yeah, the walls are pretty thin.”

“What about before? Could you hear…” she trailed off.

“Yeah.”

“Ugh, that’s so embarrassing.”

“Hey, you’re amongst friends, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Besides, you know Shane’s still totally got a thing for you, so he didn’t mind one bit.”

I expected her to laugh, but instead her eyes welled up with tears again and she said, “I just—I’ve just been feeling too many things at once today. It’s like I’m being pulled apart in all these different directions, you know?”

“I’m sorry, honey.” I hugged her tighter.

“Like, I REALLY thought I was over Connor. It took months and months and months, but I thought it was finally all over. And then earlier tonight, when we were all laughing about—I don’t even remember what it was—but I looked at him and—”

“You should talk to him.”

“But it’s so weird now!”

“Yeah, but it won’t be weird forever. I tell you what—Shane and I will find some excuse to go off on our own tomorrow. Give you and Connor a chance to figure out where you both stand.”

Tracy closed her eyes, tears still streaming down her face. In a barely perceptible whisper, she said, “I love you, Ria.”

“I love you too, Trace.”

Then she kissed me.

It wasn’t the first time the two of us had locked lips. Heck, I couldn’t even begin to count how many playful, silly smooches we’d exchanged over the years. But when Tracy kissed me that night, it was different. There was actual longing in it. She was a mess of loneliness and confusion and sexual desire, and I could taste it on her lips.

I had never felt any romantic inclinations towards another woman before. After nearly three decades on this earth, I’d like to think I would know if I was bisexual or not. But there was an undeniable intimacy between me and Tracy. Something special. A tenderness and a sense of affection that went way beyond “purely platonic.”

And damn if I didn’t get a little erotic charge out of that kiss.

“That was nice,” I whispered.

She kissed me again—gently at first, but then surprising me with a little bit of tongue. When we finally pulled apart, my head was spinning.

“What is going on with me?” Tracy sighed, shaking. “Ria, baby, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

I touched a finger to my lips, still tingling from where she had kissed me. “Don’t be sorry. I told you, it was really nice.”

“You’re just such a good friend, and I love you so much, and sometimes I just, like—I don’t know. I want to SHOW you, you know? Show you how much you mean to me. I want to hug you and kiss you, and—”

She stopped mid-babble and kissed me again.

“That nightie looks really good on you,” she whispered.