Chapter Text
"This was such an amazing game night. Thanks for having us all over!" Janine says to you as she puts on her coat.
"Yeah, thank you," Gregory says, nodding at you and following Janine outside.
"Yes!" agrees Jacob, gesturing animatedly. "The tension created by Pictionary is unrivaled, as far as I'm concerned. Well, except for Drought, but in the case of that game..."
Barbara gently pushes on his back and ushers him out. "Let's go, dear." She turns to you. "Thank you so much for having us."
"My pleasure, everyone," you say out the door.
You turn to Melissa, who's bending down to put on her Doc Martens. "I know these four had to leave," you say, "but how about you? Want to stick around for a while?"
She shrugs. You can't tell if she wants to stay or leave with the rest of your coworkers.
"I have some ice cream in the freezer..." you offer.
"I could be talked into ice cream," Melissa says, abandoning her boots, walking over to your kitchen, and plopping down on a barstool at your kitchen countertop.
You follow her to the kitchen, then remove the ice cream tubs from your freezer.
"Wait, is that homemade?" she asks.
"It is," you say. "Would you like salted caramel...or rocky road...or both?"
"Rocky road? You kidding me? Rocky road is my favorite."
"I know," you say, smiling at her.
"How do you know that?" she says suspiciously.
"A few months ago a bunch of us were having an ice cream discussion..."
"Oh, that's right. Your favorite was salted caramel. And Janine liked vanilla, surprising nobody."
"Barbara said coffee," you recall as you scoop the ice cream into two bowls.
"Yeah. And wasn't Jacob some kind of nut ice cream? Maple nut?"
"Sounds right. Gregory wasn't there but I bet you a million dollars he hates ice cream," you say, smiling at her.
"He'd say it's too smooth," she scoffs. "And that humans aren't meant to consume cold foods." She pauses, then turns to you. "Do you have their flavors in your freezer too?"
You stop, about to place an ice cream spoon into each bowl. She's perceptive. "I...focused on these two first. It takes a while to make: freeze the container, make the ice cream, chill it, churn it, freeze it..." You're hoping to refocus her attention.
She's quiet but then goes back to her questioning. "So you were anticipating this, then? For the two of us."
You shrug and shake your head at the same time. You really don't want to explain yourself. "Just...eat your ice cream, Schemmenti." You push her bowl toward her.
She smiles down into her bowl, then takes a bite. "Oh Lord, this is absolutely delicious." Her smile is gone and she just looks surprised and impressed. "Maybe the best I've had."
You're thrilled to have impressed her with something you've made. "That's a big compliment coming from you, Melissa," you say. Sitting down at the barstool next to her, you spoon a bite of salted caramel into your mouth.
Then she's back to her wry self. "So what were you planning next for us here?" she asks, mouth full of rocky road, gesturing back and forth between the two of you. "What else ya got up your sleeve?"
"Nothing," you say defensively, and it's the truth. You hadn't thought past this part. Well, you had, but it wasn't G-rated. You look over at her and spoon more ice cream into your mouth to keep quiet.
She tilts her head, thinking. "Pictionary went pretty well. How about another game?" she asks.
"Another game? Like what?"
"Truth or dare."
A thrill runs through you, but immediately you say, "No." It'd be too dangerous. No way.
"Why not?" Her eyes squint at you, trying to assess your thought process. "Afraid of a friendly game?"
"It's not friendly, it's...risky."
"You wanna do it, though, don't you?" She leans over to you and nudges you with her shoulder. She's biting her bottom lip with her teeth and looking at you so—is that flirtatiously?—that you give in.
"Yeah. Okay." You try to sound annoyed but it's not convincing.
"I'll even go first," she says. "Truth."
This is such a bad idea but you cannot resist her. You sigh. "All right. Did you want to leave tonight when the others did?"
She answers immediately. "Oh, no way. I'm so glad I stayed."
"Of course you are," you say while rolling your eyes. "Free ice cream and a chance to mortify me."
"Exactly." She winks at you. "Truth or dare?"
You look over at her; she looks innocent for the moment. "Truth," you respond.
"Why did you invite me to stay?"
You open your mouth, then close it. How little truth can you get away with here? "I like spending time with you." You glance over to see if that's enough, but she's waiting for more. "And...I've noticed I'm happy when I'm around you and I didn't want the night to end." She nods at you.
"Truth or dare?" you say to her.
"Truth."
"Why did you suggest this particular game?"
She shrugs. "I thought it would be fun."
You shake your head. "Sure, games are fun. But I asked about this particular game."
She looks up at you, then down into her bowl. She's quiet for a moment, then begins slowly. "When two people play this game, they find out a lot about each other." She looks up again and her eyes meet yours. "I guess I wanted to find out more about you."
Her sweet answer makes you shiver slightly.
"Truth or dare?" she asks.
"Truth."
"Man, we're never gonna get to the good stuff," she complains.
"Hey, it's just up to you to ask a good question, that's all."
Her silence is longer this time. You can feel her looking you up and down.
"When you're with someone, how do you like to be treated?"
You scoff at the easy question. "Nicely, of course."
"No, I mean...gently? Or...not so gently, or...?"
Your mouth drops open. "Ohhh." God. You answer before you can think too hard about the repercussions of this. "Gently. And then occasionally...less so."
Melissa nods slowly. "That's good to know..."
You whip your head to look at her.
"... for yourself," she finishes. "So you know what you want."
You find that a bit unconvincing, but you don't press. "Truth or dare?" you ask.
"Dare," she responds quickly.
"I dare you to take off your blazer."
"Are you kidding me? That's your dare? You're bad at this game."
"What? No, I'm not."
She whips off her pleather green blazer and stands up, then drapes it over your shoulders. "There," she says in a huff. "It's yours now."
You try to think of a witty response, but then a sweet cinnamon scent surrounds you and you wrap the blazer more tightly around you. "It smells like you," you say before you can stop yourself.
She's seating herself back on the barstool and her mouth opens slightly in surprise.
That was worth it, you think.
She gathers herself and says, "Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
She nods and gestures to her bowl. "I dare you to feed me the rest of my ice cream."
You reach out for her bowl and she pushes it toward you.
Picking up the spoon, you dip it into the small scoop of rocky road that remains. You lift it toward her mouth and she opens her lips and accepts the spoon.
As you slowly pull the spoon away from her, she whispers, "Hot damn, this is good."
"The ice cream or the dare?" you ask.
"Yes," she says, smiling at you wryly.
You smile too, dipping her spoon into the ice cream again and feeding her another bite. She moans against the spoon and you can feel the vibration in your fingers. Your stomach flutters.
"Tell me this isn't the last time you'll make ice cream for me," she almost begs.
"I'll make it for you anytime you like," you tell her softly. You look down at the bowl and see it's empty save for a little melted liquid you can't even pick up with the spoon. A playful thought occurs to you. "Truth or dare?" you ask.
"Dare, of course," she says, licking her lips to ensure she's gotten all of the ice cream.
"I dare you to feed me the rest of my ice cream," you say, walking over to the sink. "Except my spoon is dirty," you say while dropping your spoon into the sink with a clang.
Melissa raises her eyebrows at you.
You walk back to your barstool and sit down, then push your bowl toward her.
"I gotta say, you're getting better at this," she remarks.
She dips her finger into the bowl and raises it to you.
You wrap your lips around her finger and slowly pull away. You hear her breathe in slowly and inwardly you smile.
She dips her finger back into the salted caramel and presses it against your lips. You open and wrap your lips around her finger again, this time pressing your tongue hard against her as you pull your head back. "Wow, you like this ice cream too, don't you?" she says in a low voice.
"I do like the ice cream," you respond. "Very much."
She goes back for a third, and what looks like last, time into the ice cream. When she places her finger in your mouth, you suck and then bite down, gently but hard enough that she can't remove her finger for a moment.
She glances at you and narrows her eyes in mock annoyance, then you release your teeth and let her pull back.
"Be right back," she says. She stands up and walks over to the sink to rinse her hands and the two ice cream bowls.
When her back is to you, a dose of reality rushes at you. This is your colleague. Your older, straight colleague, you think. It's time to stop before you do something you can't face tomorrow. Taking a deep breath, you say, "All right, this has been really fun, Melissa. Super generous of you to indulge me."
Melissa walks back to lean on the bar across from you, looking confused. "What're you talking about?"
"You don't have to do this anymore. I'm interested in women. You're just into men."
"Who told you that?"
"I...guess I assumed." You're the confused one now. "You dated Gary and then you...also have an ex-husband so..."
"My two recent exes who are heterosexual white guys don't comprise my entire dating life. I'm a pretty open-minded person, hon."
"You've dated women?" you ask in surprise.
"I...haven't dated women per se. I've been with women, though." She smiles at you, but she has a glint in her eyes. "Thought you'd be fun."
Your thoughts are racing. She is interested, genuinely interested. You didn't even consider that she ever would be. On the other hand, would it mean anything to her? Her last phrase repeats in your head: "You'd be fun." Fun. Is this actually just a game to her?
"Fun?" you ask.
"Yeah, fun," she replies with a shrug.
You feel your eyes begin to well with tears. "So this is just a game. You're like a...a dog with a squeaky toy? Once you finish the game, you'll just toss the toy aside?"
Melissa looks stunned and maybe a little angry. "That's not what this is," she spits out.
You wipe a hot tear off your cheek and stare back at her.
She covers her mouth with her hand, then runs it across her face and sighs. Then she looks at you. "I suggested this game not because I want to mess with you but because I wanted to see...if we were on the same page about each other." She glances down at the bar. "I think you're smart. And cute. And fun. And sometimes when we're not together...I think about you."
There's a silence while you take all of her words in. Then you ask huskily, "You think about me?"
"Listen," she begins. "I know I'm acting and talking like it, but...I shouldn't have said you'd just be 'fun.' This isn't a flippant game for me. And you're not a toy." Then she looks over at you tenderly. "I'm sorry if I made it seem like that."
You nod. "OK."
"OK." She slides her arm across the bar, offering you her hand palm up. You press your hand into hers. Her warm fingers close around your own and squeeze. You instantly feel lighter, comforted.
"How about sitting on the couch in there?" you gesture behind you.
"Yeah, all right." She squeezes your hand again, then lets it go.
You hang her blazer over the barstool and follow her into the living room. She settles into the corner of the couch.
"So..." you begin, smiling as you sit cross-legged next to her. "Then if you think about me when I'm not around, and you think I'm cute...you have a crush on me?"
She pauses for a moment. "No more free questions."
"What?"
"No more free questions." She smiles back at you. "It's your turn, not mine, hon: Truth or dare?"
You open your mouth and stare at her. "Melissa!"
"What? This isn't a flippant game, but it's still a game and we're in the middle of it. Truth or dare?"
You stare at her in mock annoyance, secretly thrilled. "Dare."
Melissa says in a low voice, "I dare you to sit on my lap." Then she sits back and watches you.
You pause for a few moments, looking down at her lap, then up to her face, thinking about how quickly this situation has the potential to escalate if you move forward with this. There'd be no going back. But...you don't want to go back.
Slowly you get up from the couch and stand over her. Then you lower yourself onto her lap sideways so one side is toward her, one hand on her shoulder.
Good Lord, this is closer than you ever thought you'd be to Melissa. You can see her chest slowly rising and falling and smell her cinnamon fragrance. Her eyes are gauging your reaction and her attention is focused solely on you; it's like your most delicious fantasy come to life.
"Got a question to ask me?" she says, bringing you back to the game.
"Yes, uh, uh, truth or dare?" you stumble.
"Dare," she says quietly, looking into your eyes.
Her hands are warm on your hips. Your heart's beating quickly. You look down at her lips, then back up at her eyes, knowing what you want to have happen next.
Then you feel one of her hands slowly leave your hip and run up the side of your arm. First your forearm, then your elbow, your upper arm, and your shoulder before her palm cups the back of your neck. "Just tell me what you want," she whispers. "And I'll do it for you."
Now her fingers are massaging the back of your neck and tangling themselves in your hair.
"Melissa," you whisper, mesmerized as you stare into her eyes.
"Yes, sweetheart."
"I dare you to kiss me."
She slowly nods and leans her head toward yours. It feels like slow motion. She meets your lips gently, too gently, for a brief kiss. She kisses you again, just as gently, then rubs her soft lips slowly up and down on yours.
It's tantalizing and you're struggling to remember to breathe. Then you feel her start to pull away but your body decides that can't happen.
You move your hands up to either side of her head and press a rough kiss on her lips. You hear her gasp air in as she kisses you back. Then you twist your pelvis toward hers and move your legs on either side of her, straddling her. You begin kissing her deeper, lips open, as you press your groin down into hers and feel her warm under you. You squeeze your knees tightly around her hips. Meanwhile you can feel her hands running up and down your back, clutching your shirt and scratching your skin. She tastes like salty chocolate and you cannot stop kissing, exploring, every inch of her delicious mouth with your tongue. You hear her whisper something against your mouth but it doesn't register.
She says it again. "Truth or dare?"
"What?" you say confused. "We're still playing the game?" You cannot even process the...
"Truth or dare?" she asks more emphatically, sucking and biting on your bottom lip.
"I...I...uh...dare," you manage to choke out.
"Good," she whispers. "I dare you to..."