Read I Still Remember for Free Online Page B

leans against the fridge, out of which she has taken two beers. She hands me one—as if I need more booze. “But I understand why you didn’t.”
    “Look, um, Amy…” I start to stutter. “I can’t help but wonder if you, um, you know…”
    “You couldn’t ask me then, and you still can’t ask me now.” Amy’s fingers hug the neck of her beer bottle. I stare at her hands because I can’t look her in the eyes. She steps closer, puts her bottle on the counter, and lifts my chin up with one finger. “Ask me, Eli.”
    It reminds me of how she begged me to fuck her earlier today. I didn’t hesitate then.
    “Are you…” I begin. Her eyes are on me, just like they were when she slipped her fingers inside of me, and I suddenly realise I’m about to ask the most redundant question ever. So, I kiss her instead. I trail my lips from her mouth to her ear. “If you’re not into women, I’m not either,” I say.
    “My sexuality is very fluid,” she whispers back. “Always has been.”
    I snicker at the cliché. “You could have said.” My lips descend to the hollow of her neck.
    “I had no idea back then, Eli. Don’t you think I would have told you otherwise?”
    “To sum things up.” My eyes have caught sight of the swell of her breasts. “I knew but I didn’t say and you didn’t know, but you would have said.”
    “Whatever you say, Eli.” Amy’s hands tug at my jacket. “All I know is that when you came into my spa, my heart started beating like mad and I wanted to tear your clothes off.”
    She’s doing a good job of that now. Her fingers start unbuttoning my blouse, while my own hoist up her sweater.
    “Good thing you’re in the right profession for that then.” After I pull her top over her head, our eyes meet. I see something shimmer in them, and I don’t know if it’s regret or promise, infatuation or pure lust, but it doesn’t matter. We’re Amy and Eli and we spent endless summers in this house. We ate dinner in this kitchen, which doesn’t remind me at all of the kitchen of our youth, and I push Amy against her fancy Smeg refrigerator and flip open her jeans. And nothing could feel more right, more full-circle than this.
    My hand moves quickly under the waistband of her panties and she’s so wet it astounds me, but I don’t let that deter me, because I realise I haven’t done what she’s asked me yet. I haven’t fucked her yet.
    “Stay,” she mumbles in my ear, when I slip a trembling finger in between her hot, moist folds. “Not for the night, but for a week, or a month. Don’t go, Eli. Please.”  
    And as her words transform into throaty groans, I know I won’t be going anywhere soon. As I fuck Amy, at last, there’s nothing else I want to do but stay with her. The walls of her pussy clutch around my fingers and I dig deep, as deep as I can, as if the deeper I go, the more it will make up for lost time.
    When I look at her, her eyes are already starting to glaze over. Maybe she’s waited for this as long as I have.
    “Yes,” I say. “I’ll stay.” In the back of my mind, all the arrangements I have to make start rearing their head, but I ignore them easily, because, at my fingertips, a miracle is about to happen. I can sense Amy is about to come already, that her body has been on the brink all day from fondling me—and seeing me again. And I feel heat rise through my own flesh before it pools between my legs. I’m with Amy—I feel what she feels—when her knees buckle and an incredulous look takes over her face. And I can hardly believe it either, but it’s happening right in front of me—to me, to us.
    “Oh fuck,” she says, and I swear I can feel my own pussy unclench as she lets loose on me. As she bangs the back of her head against the door of her refrigerator and the climax roars through her muscles.
    I stare at the delicate skin of her neck while Amy catches her breath—my fingers still inside and her head still tilted back—and a knot I had