friends getting drunk and indiscreet, and wanting to talk about sex like teenagers, she could understand—even if it wasn’t what she’d signed up for. And honestly, she liked her tattoos and was usually happy to show them to people if she felt comfortable enough to talk about them. But there was a difference between I’ve got tattoos / Can I see them / Yes and Take your top off in front of my drunk friend.
“Do you mind if I don’t?” she asked. “We’re trying to have dinner.”
Liv looked up from her wineglass. “Oh, I don’t mind. Alain’s told me all about them—he says they’re beautiful. And you know I’ve never had the courage to do anything like that myself.”
“Maybe another time?”
“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” Alain said soothingly. “Nobody’s judging. We’re all friends here.”
“I don’t feel judged.” Rosaline edged along the sofa away from Liv. “I just don’t feel like taking my clothes off.”
At which point Liv rose, with what was probably supposed to be graceful fluidity but was more a lurch. “We don’t want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Oh good.”
“I’ll go first.”
“Wait. What—”
Liv’s immaculate black dress was already on the floor, revealing her equally immaculate, equally black lingerie, and everything that went with it. Rosaline glanced wildly at Alain to see how he was taking this. “In his stride” seemed to be the answer. Which was not comforting.
“Err, Liv,” said Rosaline, feeling at once too drunk and too sober. “I think you should probably get dressed.”
“Just when we’re getting to know each other?”
This was what Rosaline imagined defusing a bomb must be like: she didn’t want to be here, she had no idea what she was doing, and there was a really good chance it was going to blow up in her face. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve given the wrong impression, but I’d be way happier if this stayed a drinking-wine-and-chatting type evening. Rather than a, y’know, getting-naked type evening.”
“Oh come on.” Alain also stood up, making Rosaline suddenly aware of how difficult it would be to get out of the room. “You must admit she’s a beautiful woman. Don’t you think she’s beautiful, Rosaline?”
“I mean, obviously. But—”
All at once, her lap was full of Liv. And Liv was kissing her. And Alain was watching Liv kiss her and not in an Oh dear, my drunk friend is embarrassing herself way. Since she couldn’t remove Liv without throwing her on the floor or putting her hands places that could well be interpreted as encouraging, Rosaline was reduced to turning her face away in a vain attempt to signal she wasn’t into this.
“Your mouth is so soft,” murmured Liv.
“Can you please get off me?”
“And you taste so sweet.”
“No. Really. Get off me.”
“Calm down, Rosaline.” That was Alain. “It’s just a bit of fun.”
She glared at him as best she could past Liv’s ever-encroaching lips. “It’s not a bit of fun. It’s a sexual assault.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re both very attractive women. You know me, you trust me, and you like each other. What’s wrong with three adults coming together to explore themselves?”
“The bit where I’m not up for it.”
Past the point of worrying about mixed signals, she grabbed Liv by her upper arms and attempted to shove her sideways. But then Liv grabbed her back and they fell in a tangle on the sofa, Liv laughing in her ear and trying to kiss her again as Rosaline fought to get free. With a desperate twist, she managed to roll herself onto the floor, cracking her elbow on the coffee table as she went down.
From there she scrambled to her feet, knocking what was left of the chicken wings all over the carpet, and made a dash up the stairs for the bathroom. Slamming the door and locking it behind her, she scrambled to the far side of the room and crouched against the wall, trembling.
After a minute or two, she heard Alain’s footsteps outside and saw the door handle twist.
“Rosaline”—his voice drifted through the wood, muffled but definitely exasperated—“you’re being very childish.”
Oh God, how had she got herself into this mess? Had she given the wrong signals or accidentally said, Hey, you know what I’d really like? For you to hook me up with a bicurious woman I’ve met exactly twice. “You both tried to have sex with me when I didn’t want to have sex with you. I’m not being childish. I just don’t feel safe right now.”
A sigh. “You know that’s not what