15. Kelly

Kelly

" I think you need a nap before we play today," I told Betsy when we returned to our room.

She gave me a sour look. "I'm not a toddler."

"Then quit acting like one," I said firmly. "Come on, be a good girl and lay down for a while."

If I hadn't been watching her when I said it, I would have missed the way her eyes widened and she caught her breath when I said ‘good girl'. Well now, this was interesting.

"I can't sleep in the daytime," she said.

I settled on my bed, sitting sideways with my back against the wall, grabbing my e-reader, glasses, and water bottle and setting them on the corner of the mattress near my pillow.

"Come here," I said, patting the bed.

Betsy sent me a suspicious look. "Why?"

"You'll see." I patted the bed again.

She sat on the bed gingerly, but I wasn't sure if it was out of fear that these stupid cardboard beds weren't going to hold both of our weights, or if it was something else.

I tugged on her arm. "Lay your head on my lap."

"What?" She acted like I'd just asked her to lick a lamp post or something.

"Humor me."

With an aggrieved sigh, she shifted on the bed until her head was on my lap. She held herself rigidly, arms crossed over her chest. Slowly I lowered my hands until I could tunnel my fingers in her hair, then I started giving her a scalp massage.

After a few strokes of my fingers she sighed, relaxing a bit.

"That feels good," she said grudgingly.

"It's one of my secret talents."

I continued to gently massage her head until I felt her go slack, her breathing deepening as she fell asleep. I smiled to myself as I reached for my e-reader and glasses, intending to read while she napped. Instead, I leaned my head against the wall and fell asleep with her.

When I woke up I saw that I'd tipped over sideways, resting on my left hip. Betsy was still sleeping, her head on my now tilted lap, both arms hugging my thigh to her chest like a teddy bear.

I knew the instant she came awake. Her breathing changed and she stiffened, her fingers loosening their hold on my thigh.

"Did you have a good nap?" I asked.

"Yeah."

She made no effort to move, and neither did I.

"What's happening with us?" she whispered softly.

"I don't know."

She pushed herself up to seated, and I did the same. Betsy reached out her hand, smoothing a chunk of my hair behind my ear. I'm sure it was a mess. Our eyes met and held as I tried to process the confusing emotions that were chasing their way through my mind.

I'd always prided myself on being independent. On never letting myself be too affected by any person, any relationship. But Betsy was different. Maybe that's why I'd disliked her so much. It was like my body recognized that she had the power to hurt me. When we weren't arguing with each other, I couldn't help but like her, and that felt dangerous. Very dangerous.

Then again, we were at the International Games. We lived in different states. We could do what many of the other athletes seemed to be doing: have a meaningless fling.

We'd agreed to another kiss after the game this afternoon. If that went as well as our first kiss – and given the growing attraction between us I had no doubt it would – we could fuck each other. It would be like scratching an itch. We could get this, well, whatever it was, out of our systems and things could go back to normal.

I'd promised myself that I'd enjoy my Paris trip and have as many experiences as I could while I was here. Why not enjoy a fling too?

There was a teeny tiny little voice in the back of my brain that wondered what I would do if this wasn't just a fling. What if I caught feelings? I was one hundred percent sure that Betsy wasn't interested in a relationship, especially with someone like me. We hadn't talked about it too much, but I sensed that she came from one of those nice, middle class families where everyone loved each other, and they liked to spend holidays together and no one batted an eye at the idea that someone in the family was gay.

Growing up in a house full of coldness and judgement, there was no way I'd know how to fit in with Betsy's family. Not that she was asking me to. This was just some romantic flight of fancy. We lived a thousand miles away from each other, and besides, my roommate had not given me any indication that she wanted anything more than a fling.

And that was just fine, because flings were all I did. All I could do. But for once in my life, I wished that wasn't true. And if I felt this way after one single kiss and one shared nap, I was terrified about how I'd feel if we ever had sex.