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“Not at all. I just want to move my arm.” She did so and quickly wrapped it around Ronnie’s shoulder before the older woman could move away. “Now come back here.” She tugged gently and was rewarded with her companion’s head resting just above her right breast. “Comfy?”

“Mmm, very.”

“Good.” The commercial ended and Ronnie’s attention went back to the television. Rose’s did not. Her fingers began plucking at the long dark tresses. “You have very soft hair.”

“So you tell me. I think yours is softer, though. Mine’s just thicker.”

Rose’s fingers sank into Ronnie’s hair and began massaging her scalp. “Hmm, you might be right about that,” she conceded.Slowly the small circles she was making with her fingers moved lower until they were stroking the smooth skin of Ronnie’s neck. The television was completely forgotten by both women as the massage continued.A lone pinky ventured under the soft cotton shirt for a second then pulled back. Again. “Did Chris ever rub your neck like this?”

Ronnie jerked upright, her eyes looking very much like those of a deer blinded by headlights.

“Um, n-no…” She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Why do you ask?”

“I just wondered.” Rose now hesitated, the question not seeming like such a good idea anymore.

“It’s just…well, you like it so much. I would hope someone did this for you before.”

“Chris and I…” Ronnie searched for the right words. “We weren’t…” It was a tossup between which was drier, her lips or her throat. “We weren’t physically close. There wasn’t much cuddling.” She sat up completely and shifted until she was facing Rose. “I thought it was true love then.” A scornful laugh revealed the old pain. “Now I know better.” She lowered her head and looked at her hands. Rose remained silent, sensing Ronnie struggling with some inner demon. Finally the tall woman chose the easy way out. “At least the sex was good.”

“You know I hate Chris for hurting you like that.” She reached out and put her fingers under the strong chin, forcing the blue eyes to meet hers. “And I don’t hate many people in this world.”

Ronnie took the hand away from her chin and held it within her own. “Funny.” She looked down at their hands, her thumb idly brushing across the smaller woman’s knuckles. “I feel the same way about people that hurt you.” She paused for a moment, fear threatening to keep the words trapped inside. “You are very special to me, Rose.” Her head raised and for several long seconds they stared at each other.

Rose wasn’t sure if she was excited or afraid as her heart began beating double-time. Her lips parted slightly in subconscious invitation. She was just about to move forward when she saw the radiant blue eyes flicker and look away.

“I think that’s enough serious talk for tonight,” Ronnie said, reluctantly releasing the hold on the young woman’s hand. The magical spell was broken and both felt a keen sense of disappointment. Another lost opportunity…another chance not taken.

Rose was still thinking about that moment long after they had settled down for the night. She turned her face to look at the sleeping woman beside her.Careful not to disturb her companion, she propped herself on her right elbow and tucked her hair behind her ear. Hesitantly she lowered her lips to Ronnie’s cheek, planting the softest of kisses there. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, Rose saw as much as felt the small smile come to the sleeping face. “I love you,” she whispered before lying back on her pillows. Intertwining her fingers with those resting on her belly, the young woman closed her eyes.

“Love you too,” Ronnie mumbled sleepily, unconsciously snuggling closer. The voice startled Rose for a minute before she realized her friend was still sleeping. She turned her cheek to rest against the dark head and soon fell asleep herself.

* * *

Ronnie opened the TV Guide and began to read off the options. “‘A Walk in the Clouds’ is on. We saw that one already. ‘Sabrina’, that’s boring.” She turned the page. “Let’s see what’s on pay per view.” A gentle tug on her wrist forced her to shift the guide so Rose could look on with her.

“There’s that new Jim Carrey movie,” the young woman offered.

“I hate Jim Carrey. Look, Bruce Willis blows up another building.”

“I hate action movies. Let’s watch a romantic one.”

“Why a romance and not a comedy?”

“Well, it is Valentine’s Day, silly.”

“If two people are really in love they don’t need a day to celebrate it.”

“Veronica Cartwright, you are such a cynic. Give me that.” Rose took the TV Guide and began thumbing through the pages. “You know we could play a game or something if you would rather. I see you’re two levels higher than me on ‘Rescuer of the Maiden’.” She laughed at the sheepish grin on the older woman’s face. “What do you do, play when I’m asleep?”

“It’s addictive. Come on, find something for us to watch.”

Fifteen minutes later the television still offered no suitable programs to watch. “There are what, a hundred, hundred and fifty channels on this and we can’t find a thing to watch?”

“That’s because you don’t want to watch any love stories and I don’t want to watch any of those shoot-em-up blow-em-up movies,” Rose replied.

“So much for television.” Ronnie pressed the off button and tossed the remote onto the coffee table. “This is a thrilling Valentine’s Day.”

“If you’re bored then let’s do something different.”

“Like what?”

“We could play a game or do each others nails or something.” Rose was also at a loss for what to do. Although she had never believed it could happen, she was actually quite bored at the moment. In two months time they had managed to watch every movie Ronnie owned and played every game in the house several times. There really was not much else to do except… “Talk.”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s make some hot chocolate, sit back, and talk. You know, one of our infamous girl chats.” Rose’s eyes held a twinkle of mischief.

“And what exactly would be the topic of conversation tonight? I am not doing ‘relive your most embarrassing moments’ again.”

“Oh come on, you learned some pretty embarrassing things about me too,” the young woman chided.

“Well, that’s true,” Ronnie conceded. “And you do turn the cutest shade of red. Okay, I’m game but let’s go out in the kitchen and make dinner while we’re talking.”

Fifteen minutes later Rose was sitting at the kitchen table cutting onions while Ronnie was standing at the island slicing mushrooms. “Answer me something,” the young woman queried while wiping at the endless stream of tears, “Why am I the one who always ends up cutting up the onion?”