***
Out of curiosity, Krissy purposely missed the turn that would have led her Mercedes down the alleyway behind Becca’s home, and instead drove past Becca’s street.
Holy shit!
There was a lot of press in front of Becca’s blue house! A gaggle of reporters and cameramen were milling about on the sidewalk, and there were several news vans parked on either side of the street. Krissy rolled down her window, stuck her phone out and snapped a picture of it. Becca would probably kill her, but Krissy was already mentally composing the bragging-about-my-heroic-friend Facebook post to accompany the pic when she shared it later.
Carefully driving her car down the alley behind the block Becca lived on, she stopped at the gate built into the high brick wall of Becca’s backyard and then called Becca.
“I’m here,” she said when Becca answered.
“Thank fuck! Did you crawl here? Okay, I’m coming out.”
Sure enough, in less than a minute, Becca stepped through her back gate, locking it behind her with her key.
Watching her, Krissy swallowed.
As usual, Becca’s towering physique was textbook femininity and yet all strength—a perfect combination of softness and hardness which Becca was showing off today by wearing yoga shorts and a longline running bra which displayed her abs directly under those gorgeous breasts.
Their other friends often teased them because they dressed so similarly. Krissy always shrugged it off. She and Becca didn’t really dress that much differently from countless other SoCal women—and their friends, especially Ainsley and Rachel, were big fans of skintight athletic gear also. But Krissy secretly liked it when she and Becca were teased about this; especially if one of their friends would make a wisecrack like, “Do you two share a closet?” the way Charlotte did after they all played volleyball just last week.
Krissy liked what that implied…
“Hey,” Becca said, getting in the car.
“Hey,” Krissy replied.
“I like those colors!” Becca said, eyeing Krissy’s outfit up and down.
“Thanks.”
“I guess we’re still sharing a closet, huh?” Becca then asked with a smirk, indicating her own outfit, Krissy’s trained eye knowing it was also Lululemon.
Krissy nodded, a faux serious expression on her face.
“Yes, we are,” she said. “And I was wondering where the top you’re wearing was because I wanted to wear it today!”
Becca shrugged.
“Guess you have to get out of bed earlier,” she told her. “Although, I imagine you had some sex goddess keeping you in the bedroom longer this morning?”
Krissy felt her heart drop. As much truth as there was in Becca’s snide remark…
And it was two sex goddesses, thank you very much!
…Krissy hated that Becca thought that about her.
My own fault, really…
This was true. Krissy had never kept it a secret among her closest friends that she enjoyed having sex with as many unattached and willing women as she could, as often as she could. Therefore, it was no wonder that Becca would tease her about such behavior now.
It used to not bother her.
In fact, it wasn’t too long ago when Krissy would have taken the conversational opening Becca had just provided and launched into a blow-by-blow account of what transpired last night and this morning with Anna and Maya.
And if it had been anyone else in the car with her right now—Ainsley, Rachel, Charlotte, Lucinda, Anya—Krissy would have done just that. She was known for her skills at recounting her sexual exploits using just enough details to make her audience feel as if they were there.
But it was Becca in the car with her now. And Krissy didn’t tell Becca those stories. Not anymore.