I Still Remember Read Online Free PDF Page A

is different now. I turn around to face her.
    “Did you know?” I ask, the words coming out a bit shaken.
    Her face mellows into a soft expression foreign to me. Is this how she looked at her husbands when they proposed? How did she regard them when the divorces came through? But I’m no different, not having had a romantic relationship last longer than a few years. I broke my record with Celia, who, in the end, I also successfully managed to chase away. I blame the job. Presenting the morning news doesn’t make for a lot of date nights. Or maybe the right woman simply hasn’t come along yet.
    “How could I not?” Her fingers intertwine with mine. “You were my best friend, Eli. Of course I knew.”
    My heart beats in my throat. Why did I never say anything? What if our years of friendship turned out to be one big missed opportunity? What if it could have been so much more than me sneaking glances and pining for her secretly?
    In my teenage mind, Amy was the cruel one for, supposedly, never being able to return my affections. But in the end, I was the one who left without looking back.
    This baggage hangs heavy in the air between us, thick like the remnants of summer clouding the late afternoon.
    “I’m sorry for leaving like that.” The words tumble out of me like a confession, like something that should have been said ages ago.
    “Hey,” she yanks my arms up by the wrists and places my hands on her hips, “I always told myself you simply loved me too much to stay.” Amy was always the brave, hopeful one. But when she puts it like that, my defences against the tears burning behind my eyes crumble.
    “Gosh.” Tears stream down my cheeks and I can’t wipe them away because Amy is holding my wrists.
    “You’re here now.” Amy leans in and presses her lips against my cheek.
    It’s the simple truth. I’m here, by Amy’s pond and she just kissed me again. I’m no longer Eli the lovesick teenager. I’m Elise Frost, the morning news anchor who caused a riot on a lesbian website when she dared to exchange her signature glasses for a new model.
    “I am.” Amy’s been running this show long enough. Unafraid of whatever happens next, I loosen my wrists from her grip. I bring my hands to her cheeks and draw her near. When our lips meet, the past falls away and I easily shake off whatever’s left of my teenage self. We’re two grown women and this couldn’t be more perfect.
    While our lips meet again and again, I trace my fingertips over the skin of her arms until they find the hem of her tank top. I don’t just want to get underneath, I want it off of her. I hoist it over her chest and break the kiss to pull the top over her head. I’ve ogled those collarbones long enough. As gorgeous as they are, I need more.  
    Heat travels through me at high speed and I do hope there will be time for slow caresses and endless gazing into each other’s eyes later, because I can’t stop myself now. My actions border on the edge of frantic when I pull the straps of her bra down and scoop a soft breast out of its cup. Feeling its weight in my hand brings me pause, though, and I stop to worship it. My lips are drawn to the dark brown of Amy’s nipple and when I taste it, I taste her. I taste afternoons riding our bikes along the high street, looking for excitement. I taste the sun that slanted across the tops of the pine trees when we sunbathed in this very spot. I taste our history.
    Amy’s hands are in my hair, her fingertips zapping electricity through my scalp. I fall onto my knees and drag her with me onto the grass. It’s an unexpected struggle to get her bra off amidst the tangle of limbs we have become, but I want her naked beneath me more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.
    I think about the times I laid down next to her on this indestructible patch of grass, dreaming up the courage to do something about the heat that throbbed under my skin.
    Between the mad frenzy of tugging off our clothes and getting