Soaked

Another text from Cameron lit up my phone, glowing in the midnight darkness of my bedroom.

I knew something was off, which is why she suggested we rent the cottage in the first place.

I'm okay, I just need to get away. I promise, I'm okay. I just need to see you. I'll book it. We'll talk in the morning. Xo

So I agreed.

I met Cam a year ago. It was late August at a community hike. I was new to the West Coast and I didn't have many friends. I was instantly drawn to her energy, like everyone who had ever met her. An old soul, radiating joy, and she was devastatingly pretty. She was like no one else. A surfer's blonde messy braid fell across her shoulder, a colourful scarf wrapped around her head. She was a creature from another era, another universe. We laughed and walked, and then after the hike when a misty rain settled in, we talked in her car for another hour.

So many people adored her, a natural beauty who had appeared to have stepped off a California boardwalk in 1960. Everyone wanted to know her. We had so much to talk about. She loved to write, and to listen. We were long lost friends from another lifetime.

"Come over. Let me braid your hair", she had said a few weeks after we had met. I was sad and complaining about an unworthy boy who had just stood me up for a sushi date.

"Your soul knows he isn't good enough for you," she smiled from behind me, her gentle fingers brushing the hair off my face, carefully folding the pieces into a long braid. I took a sip of wine. With every thoughtful twist, I could feel her warm body behind me, breathing steadily. It was so... comforting. I leaned back into her as she finished the braid.

"You don't need to settle for him," she reassured me. I could feel her light exhale on my bare neck. "His energy is off." she patted the top of my head a few times.

"Besides, you're SO much hotter than him anyway." We both laughed in agreement and fell backward onto her bed, laughing so hard that I spilled my drink, which sent us into more hysterics.

A month after that, she invited me to a work event. She had co-written a play. Her last text read, Don't be silly, you better be there! I didn't know what to expect, but I went anyway.

I arrived at the venue to find her waiting outside for me. My jaw dropped as I pulled up in the cab, only to find her typical beach-fairy skirts and long flowing hair replaced with a suit jacket and fitted mini-dress. Her hair was so polished. Heels?! I felt so underdressed, I almost got back in the cab.

"No way, you look amazing!" she laughed, basically dragging me into the venue.

"Don't worry, it's dark inside anyway!" she teased. She grabbed my hand, giggling at her own joke, and she led us to our seats.

As the lights dimmed in the theatre, her excited eyes met mine in the dark, shining. She held my gaze and her painted lips turned into a slight smile, and in that moment, she looked right through me.

One bright afternoon a few months later, Cam was curled up in her wool socks and sweater on my couch looking out my apartment window, like she always did. I paused at the sight of her, a tea in each hand as I entered my living room. She was like a fluffy cat who had found the only sunbeam, peering down the 6 storeys to the snowy city sidewalk.

She looked up at me smiling, her hair glowing in the natural light of the window as I handed her the tea. Her favourite ceramic mug.

"Oooh yay! My favourite mug!"

I sat down beside her, and she turned to face me, sitting cross-legged.

"Well," she rolled her eyes. "He asked me."

"Hm? Asked you what?"

"Asked if I was his girlfriend." she grinned.

"Oh!" I remembered. "And you said..."

"I said of course." she said smugly. "I mean, yeah, he's so cute, and he is a producer... and he is... nice."

"Nice," I teased her. "Nice. And don't forget about that dick."

She rolled her eyes and we cackled, taking a sip of our too-hot tea at the same time, regretfully burning our tongues.

But the usual sunny gleam in her eyes had been dim the last time I'd seen her. We'd met for coffee in her neighbourhood, a drizzling grey summer day.

I remember her staring into her flat white with a certain flatness herself. The vulnerable depth of her soul I admired so much was shallow, hidden. She was dismissing me. She wouldn't look at me. To anyone else, she would be regular Cam. To anyone else who didn't know her. But I knew her too well.

"No, whatever, I'm doing great," she said, tucking a wild piece of hair behind a pierced ear. "So how was your week."

"Oh yeah, you're so 'great'!" I said, startling both of us. "What's going on with you, Cam? Did I do something? I'm really sorry if I did. Sometimes I..."

"No!" she interrupted, surprised, as her eyes, glazing over with tears, finally met mine. She grabbed my hand across the table. It was trembling.

"No... you didn't."

"It's... for real, nothing."

"You're... a great friend."

"No... you're right... it's work."

That night, I got the first of a week of midnight texts.

And now, it was August again, and we had arrived the night before to our cottage rental outside the city.

The cottage was old, but it had been cared for, and belonged to her friends' family. It was cozy and tucked off the main road, with a backyard stone patio half covered with an awning. There were perennial flower gardens lining a trail that led from the backyard down to the Pacific. We were so lucky to be here. It was the break from the city we needed. She'd be her usual self again soon.

It was early afternoon and clouds were low in the sky. I had just cleaned up from brunch and I spied Cam sitting by herself down at the shore. I grabbed my things and started down the sandy path.

"Hey, you." I plopped beside her on the blanket. She smiled at the ocean from behind her huge sunglasses. "Hey."

The sun's reflection was sparkling on the water. Clouds above were moving as the wind blew a warm gust. Waves rolled up onto the shore, and back again. I dug my toes into the tiny pebbles.

After a few minutes Cam stood up and walked toward the shore. With the wind blowing her hair, she looked like the goddess of the beach, a tiny bikini, sun-kissed skin, a cream linen shirt unbuttoned overtop. The sun itself seemed to worship her, lighting up her golden hair like a halo. I wished to be as beautiful as she was.

I was feeling grateful that she seemed back to her old self, just observing her, and a huge rain drop landed on my chest.

Another, on my cheek.

"What!" I screamed.

"You're in the West Coast now!" she yelled back playfully.

We looked at each other.

More drops.

Downpour.

"Hurry!" I could hear her cackling as I tried to keep up with her. Cam was running ahead of me up the beach path and I was losing my footing in a comical way in the unstable sand, holding my bag over my head as the warm rain pelted us. I shrieked out with delight. Fuck it, I let the rain just take me at this point. I was already drenched.

The air smelled fresh as we approached the flower gardens and ran up into the backyard, nearly tripping on the lounge chairs we had laid out in this morning.

Running under the awning, I was laughing, soaked head to toe in the warm Pacific rain. The clinking sound on the steel awning above was magical. The echinacea and rudbeckia in the backyard were dancing, being pelted with raindrops.

I squeezed the water from my hair, shaking my head in disbelief. My thin sundress clung to my body, tattoos and bikini visible underneath. I noticed Cam staring out across the yard, totally soaked, distress on her face.

"Aww, oh well, I like the rain! I'm only a little bit wet!" I comforted her. She had gone through so much trouble to book this trip. "We can go back to the beach tomorrow!"

And looking at her wet face closer, I couldn't tell if it was tears or rain.

"Cam?!"

She glared at me.

"You have no idea," she exclaimed over the volume of the rain surrounding us.

I crossed my arms, unsure what she was about to say.

"You have no idea what it's like to have to be your friend!" she yelled.

"What are you talking about?" I yelled back.

"You're so fucking perfect, you're so fucking pretty!" She hurled these words at me as if they were insults.

I laughed awkwardly and dropped my bag on a patio table.

"I can't be your friend anymore," she said, lowering her voice.

My smile dropped, hurt, confused.

"Cam, what are you talking about?! Of course you can."

"No! I'm fucking sick of it!" She wiped her brow with a tanned arm. "Fuck! All of it!"

"You know what," she shook her head. "I can't do it! I can't even write, you know, I try to write but I end up writing about you!"

I realized my whole body was tense, ready to defend myself as she took an aggressive step closer to me.

"My writing, the best parts of me..." she paused and swallowed hard, thinking.

"What if you see me as something I'm not. What if the best parts of me are in your head? What if they only exist because you see them?" A tear, or a raindrop, ran down her cheek.

"Yeah, I do see them Cam," I yelled. "I fucking see you! You're having an existential crisis. And you can be my friend! Even when you're being crazy!"

"I am going fucking crazy!" poured out a villainous laugh. Her gaze on me wanted to either eat me alive, rip me apart, hug me, or murder me. I wasn't sure.

"I'm going crazy," Cam said, "I think I'm in love with you."

"What?" my stomach dropped.

"So... I don't want to be your... I CAN'T be your..."

And I grabbed her perfect face, her wet hair in my hands, and kissed her hard on the mouth.

We looked at each other, shocked. And in an instant, our lips collided, our arms intertwined, our tongues met. Her body was warm and wet, her lips were soft as she kissed me hard. It felt... right. It felt incredible. I had never done this, never dreamed of this, but I was intoxicated.

Our bodies were so close, and her skin was magic.

My hands found themselves peeling the button-up off her shoulders and dropping it to the ground. I kissed her neck and she whimpered. My hands found her breasts in the barely-there bikini underneath and her hands cupped mine, squeezing them tighter.

"I want you," she whispered in my ear. "I want this so bad". My whole body melted. I wanted this too. I had no idea how bad I wanted this, until this very moment. My heart ached for her. My whole being ached for her.

I kissed her neck gently and she moaned, hardly audible from the downpour all around us. I whispered her name. Our lips pressed together again, tenderly.

Her hands wandered down around my waist, peeling the wet sundress up over my head, dropping it on the patio stone in a heap. From behind me, she pulled the tiny strings of my bikini top and it fell too, her mouth finding my lips, then my neck, as she exhaled into my collarbone. I shivered. I melted under her touch. I had been craving this for a lifetime.

Her mouth was all over my skin and found my nipples, her golden damp hair and beautiful lips on my body, I couldn't handle it. I lifted her bikini top over her head, and touched her perfect tits as she sighed with overwhelm. Her eyes met mine. There was her sparkle.

Behind us was a patio lounge chair. Without much thought, I playfully pushed her onto it as she giggled, staring at me with anticipation. She spread her long legs and bit her lip, and it was on.

Climbing onto her, our desperate mouths found each other, and I pressed myself into her from between her legs. The rain overhead drowned out the moans from our lips. She took my hand in hers, and moved it down her tanned stomach, under her bikini bottoms, and onto her hot pussy. "I want you to fuck me," she purred into my ear. I died and became alive at the same time.

My finger slipped between her labia and it was already so wet. She gasped and moved her hips toward my hand. So warm and slippery, I traced my fingers lightly into the wetness. I circled her clit a few times and I could tell her pussy was starting to swell. I needed more. I slipped her bikini bottoms down and off her legs, and spread her thighs apart, gazing between them, an ecstatic glaze on her face.

I touched my lips to her stomach and she leaned back into the lounge chair, getting lost in it. My hands found her pink silk folds and I traced a finger around the opening, teasing her. She moaned as I let my fingers explore inside, and I nearly fainted. Her pussy was so hot and gripping my fingers, begging for more, and I gently started fucking her. She was lost in it. I brought my lips to her pussy and exhaled. I was dying to taste her. I touched my tongue to the wet warmth, and she melted in my mouth, shuddering. I spread her pussy and put my mouth around her beautiful pink clit, and I couldn't get enough. I licked her and felt my insides getting hotter like a volcano.

She arched her back and cried out my name. My name on her sweet lips made my pussy ache for her mouth.

"Come here," she demanded, and she pulled me above her as she laid reclined in the chair. She looked up at me like a lioness, her golden hair a mess. She pulled my bikini bottoms to the side and slid her finger in my wet slit, looking in my eyes, hungry. I gasped as she led my hips to her mouth, and straddling her face, she kissed my pussy and her tongue flicked my clit wildly.

I arched my back, her hands gripping my ass, and started riding her face. My hands got lost in her hair. "Fuckkk!" I cried out. Her tongue was soft, sucking my clit. Her lips on my pussy like she was craving it, she needed to eat it. My legs were liquid and I wanted to collapse. My whole body was liquid. "Cameron", I gasped. "Fuck, yes, I want it. I love it."

My body flushed hot and my dripping pussy pulsed in her mouth. She moaned with approval and I needed to kiss her. I climbed on top of her, finding her mouth and kissing her deeply, hungrily, our tongues wanting more. I started to grind into her rhythmically, our slick wetness together and clits meeting. She cried with pleasure and she pushed her hips up into mine. I kept moving, deeper and harder. "Don't fucking stop!

I didn't. I kept fucking her. It felt unbelievable. The wetness turned to cream and she screamed my name.

I kissed her shoulder, her collarbone, her chest, collapsing between her legs. She held me.

Rain was pounding on the roof overhead.

I looked up at her and kissed her sweet lips again, they tasted like me. I pulled back to see her wet glowing face, vulnerable, gorgeous, and I held her face in my hands.

"I love you, Cam," I gasped. "I didn't know it. But I'm yours. I don't care. I have to tell you. I'm so in love with you."

And under the weight of our bodies, the patio chair collapsed onto the ground.