Ray Of Sunshine

Amanda’s still slumped on the couch, moping like a kicked puppy when Lucy shows up unannounced. The redhead waltzes in flashing that million-watt grin and refuses to take no for an answer, so Amanda finally drags her ass off the cushions and lets her friend in. Before she knows it they’re belly-down on the rug, snapping jigsaw pieces into place, trash-talking, laughing loud enough to rattle the pictures. Sometime after midnight they shift to the sofa, big-screen glow flickering over bare legs tangled together, toes sliding up calf and shin like it’s nothing. When the credits roll Amanda feels bad, tells Lucy she’s probably wasting her night. Lucy just scoots closer, smirk turning wicked. "I’m not going anywhere." That’s all it takes: the old, easy habit kicks in. Pajamas hit the floor, fingers replacing footsies as they roll and tangle on the cushions, mouths hot and greedy, no promises, no strings, just two best friends trading moans until they’re limp, sweaty, and grinning like idiots.