The Night They Stopped Being Just Friends

It was hot that July night, one of those heats that sticks to the skin and doesn’t go away even with the breeze. Camila and Renata had agreed to go out with no real plan, just to walk around and have a drink, like so many other times. They had been friends since college, almost six years, and there was something between them they never dared to name.

They started at a small bar near the river, one of those places with dim lights and music that doesn’t force you to shout. They ordered wine, then another glass, and by the third they were already laughing at anything, their heads too close together. Camila noticed Renata’s perfume every time she leaned toward her, and she also noticed how hard it was to look away from her mouth.

—You know I never told you something? —said Renata, playing with the base of her glass.

—What? —asked Camila, though something inside her already sensed where this was going.

—Never mind. Another day.

Camila didn’t insist. The two of them knew very well how to handle the art of not saying things.

Renata’s curly hair fell over her shoulders, held back only by a clip that was threatening to come loose. She was wearing a thin, strappy blouse, and every time she moved Camila traced the outline of her body with an attention that was no longer innocent in the slightest. They had been like this for years: a touch of hands that lasted too long, a hug that went on a second too far, looks that met and then slipped away immediately.

They left the bar close to one in the morning. The city was almost empty, the streets still damp from an early rain. They walked toward Camila’s apartment without even agreeing on it, simply because it was nearby and because neither of them felt like the night ending.

—Want to come up for a bit? —Camila asked in the lobby, her voice sounding less steady than she intended.

—Obviously —Renata said, holding her gaze an instant longer than necessary.

***

The apartment was silent. Camila turned on a lamp in the living room, poured two glasses of water, and they sat on the couch, facing each other, legs crossed and knees almost touching. The conversation went on, but the content no longer mattered. What mattered were the pauses, the silences growing longer and longer in which they looked at each other without saying a word.

—I have to confess what I said before —Renata said suddenly.

—Tell me.

—For a long time now I’ve been thinking about you in a way I shouldn’t. —She lowered her eyes to her glass—. And I’m tired of pretending I’m not.

Camila’s heart suddenly started racing. She felt heat rise up her neck, her hands suddenly clumsy. For years she had imagined that sentence, had written it and erased it a thousand times in her head, and now that she was hearing it she didn’t know what to do with it.

—Me too —she finally said, almost in a whisper—. Much more than you can imagine.

No more words were needed. Renata leaned in slowly, giving her all the time in the world to pull away, and Camila didn’t pull away. Her mouth touched hers with a softness that made her shiver. It was a slow kiss at first, tentative, as if both of them were afraid of breaking something. Then it became something else.

Renata’s hand went to the nape of her neck, her fingers tangling in her hair, and the kiss turned deep, hungry, with years of waiting packed behind it. Camila felt her part against her mouth, her tongue seeking hers, and a low sound escaped her throat that ignited her from the inside.

—You have no idea how long I waited for this —Renata murmured against her lips.

—Then don’t wait anymore.

***

They stood up without breaking apart, bumping into the back of the couch, laughing half in the middle of kisses. Camila took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. Streetlight came in through the half-open window and drew faint bands across the bed. Renata looked at her in a way that left her breathless, as if only now she was allowing herself to truly do it.

Camila slipped one strap of her blouse down with one finger, slowly, and kissed her bare shoulder. Renata closed her eyes and tipped her head back. She went on with the other strap, and the fabric fell to her waist. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Her breasts were exposed in the half-light, her nipples already hardened, and Camila stared at her for a moment, trying to convince herself it was real.

—Do you like what you see? —Renata asked, with a nervous smile trembling faintly.

In response, Camila kissed the center of her chest, then lower, and felt her breathing catch. Her hands traced Renata’s waist, the curve of her back, that warm skin she had so often imagined and that now yielded beneath her fingers.

Renata didn’t want to stay still. She pulled at the hem of Camila’s T-shirt and tugged it over her head in one motion. Her hands were direct, without the shyness from before, cupping her breasts, stroking her with a confidence that both surprised and pleased her. She bit her lip, gently, and a shiver ran all the way down her spine.

They fell onto the bed tangled together, laughing and kissing at the same time. The rest of their clothes disappeared amid clumsy struggles and impatient caresses. When they were finally both naked, skin against skin, the sensation was so intense Camila had to stop for a second just to breathe.

—Look at me —Renata said, taking her face in both hands—. Don’t hide now.

Camila looked at her. Her eyes shone in the dimness, full of desire and something deeper, something they had been carrying for far too long. She kissed her again, long and deeply, while their bodies began to move together, finding a rhythm they hadn’t practiced but that seemed familiar.

***

Camila began to move down Renata’s body, leaving a trail of kisses along her neck, between her breasts, over the belly rising and falling faster and faster. Renata dug her fingers into her hair, not to guide her, but to hold onto something. Every time Camila’s mouth found a new spot, she let out a broken sigh that made it even harder to stop.

Camila took her time. She wanted to learn her completely, to discover what made her tremble, where her breath caught. When she finally touched her between the legs, Renata was already completely surrendered, wet, hot. She arched her back and let Camila’s name slip out in a murmur that ran over her skin.

—Like that —she said, her voice breaking—. Don’t stop.

Camila didn’t stop. She stroked her patiently, attentive to every reaction of Renata’s body, adjusting her movements according to how her thighs tightened, how she clenched the sheets in her fists. She felt her nearing the edge, her breathing faster and more uneven, until her whole body shook with a wave that left her speechless for an instant. She stayed there trembling, clutching Camila’s shoulders, laughing and breathing hard at the same time.

—I can’t believe we waited so long for this —she said when she caught her breath.

—Your turn not to believe it —Camila answered.

***

Renata gently pushed her onto her back and settled over her, planting kisses all along the path Camila had made earlier. She knew her body by heart without ever having touched it, or so it seemed, because every caress landed exactly where it had to. She kissed her breasts without haste, played with her tongue until she made her writhe, and kept going lower with a deliberate calm that was driving her crazy.

—Don’t make me wait so long —Camila protested, half-serious.

—You waited six years —Renata said, lifting her gaze with a mischievous smile—. You can hold out a little longer.

When her mouth finally reached where Camila needed her, everything else ceased to exist. Heat rose from the center of her body and spread in waves. She clutched the sheets, closed her eyes, let herself go completely. Renata was attentive, generous, reading every signal as if she had been doing it her whole life. Pleasure kept building, thick and steady, until Camila could no longer contain it.

The orgasm swept through her whole body, intense, long, and she heard herself moan without a trace of shame. Renata climbed up at once to hold her, laughing against her neck while Camila was still trembling, and kept her like that until her breathing settled back into place.

They stayed tangled together, Camila’s head on Renata’s chest, her hand drawing lazy circles on her back. Outside, the city kept sleeping, unaware that something between them had just changed forever.

—And now what? —Camila asked, almost afraid of the answer.

—Now we stop pretending nothing’s happening —Renata said, and kissed her forehead—. It already took us too long.

Camila laughed, still breathless, and nestled closer to her. For the first time in six years there was nothing to keep quiet, no touch to hide, no glance to conceal. Only the heat of their bodies, the rain falling slowly again on the rooftops, and the calm certainty that that night they had stopped being just friends.