New Favorite Flavor

Emily

I woke to the smell of burnt toast and coffee. Sunlight sliced through the half-open blinds, painting stripes across the bed. Jack was already up, humming off-key in the kitchen like nothing had ever been wrong between us.

I slipped out of bed, pulled on one of his old T-shirts,

and padded downstairs barefoot. He stood at the kitchen in boxers and a wrinkled tee, scraping charred edges off bread with a butter knife.

He glanced over his shoulder when he heard me. His face lit up, genuine, almost boyish.

“Morning, beautiful. Last night was… mind-blowing.”

Of course the only reason he would make breakfast for me is because of last night’s mind blowing sex. I crossed the room, rose on my toes, and kissed him slow. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

He grinned against my mouth, then turned back to the pan. “Toasts. Nothing fancy. Figured we could start the day easy.”

I slumped into a chair at the table. Watched him plate the slightly blackened bread, add jam, and pour coffee into a cup.

When he set the plate in front of me, I picked up a piece, tore off a corner, but didn’t eat. “Isn’t it time I met your family?”

He froze mid-pour. Coffee sloshed over the rim. “I already told you, Em. They’re shitty people. Never believed in me. Never supported the business, the dreams, nothing. We’re better off without them.”

I looked up at him, keeping my expression firm. “I still think it’s important. Especially now. In this new phase of our life.”

He set the pot down and stared at me confused. “What new phase?”

I reached into the pocket of the T-shirt where I’d tucked the pregnancy test last night after he fell asleep, and threw it across the table.

Two pink lines stared up at him.

His eyes widened. “You mean… this is real?”

I smiled, placing my hand on my belly. “Read between the lines, babe.”

He let out a whoop that rattled the windows. Dropped to his knees in front of my chair, wrapped his arms around my waist, buried his face in my stomach. “Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you—”

I stroked his hair. Let him yell his joy into my shirt. I’d always wanted kids. Always. The miscarriage had carved that want into something sharper, hungrier. But this? This wasn’t about kids. Not anymore.

I steered him gently back to the topic. “So… your family. They should know they’re going to be grandparents.”

He exhaled, still kneeling. “I’ll… think about it. Promise.”

His phone rang on the counter, he glanced at the screen, his expression shifting immediately.

“Shit. One of the investors. Emergency call.” He stood, already reaching for it. “I’m sorry, babe. Can’t do breakfast. We’ll celebrate properly tonight, I’ll order dinner.”

He kissed me quick on the forehead, like I was fragile cargo, raced upstairs to put on some clothes and came down a few minutes later fully dressed, he muttered an apology again, then grabbed his keys, and was out the door before I could answer.

The second the lock clicked, I swept both plates into the trash. Untouched toast. Untouched coffee. Untouched performance.

I picked up my phone to call Maira, thumb then shook my head. No. I needed to see her face when I said it.

Twenty minutes later I was at her door, heart hammering louder than my knock.

She opened it in an oversized T-shirt and sleep shorts, hair messy, eyes still heavy with morning. We stared at each other for a long beat, neither speaking, just breathing the same air.

Then she smiled. “Em. What are you doing here?”

“You said if I need you…” I swallowed. “Well, I do need you.”

She stepped aside. I walked in. She locked the door behind me with a soft snick.

I sat on her couch, it looked similar to mine, the same one where she’d taken me apart last night.

“Breakfast?”

I shook my head, remembering how I trashed Jacks’s food earlier.

She disappeared into the kitchen, came back with two plates: scrambled eggs, toast, sliced avocado. She handed me one and beside me.

We are in silence, holding each other’s gaze until she shifted uncomfortably, parting her lips to speak, “what is it Em?”

I set my fork down, took a deep breath before I let the words spill. “Have you always been bisexual?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Who says I am—”

“A lesbian then.” My voice was steady. “Have you always been a lesbian?”

Maira laughed, and it just… kept going. Seconds stretched, then piled into nearly a minute before she finally slowed.. “Sexuality isn’t something I think about too deep, Em. Labels are exhausting.”

“But with what happened—”

“So?”

I met her eyes. “Have you always felt that way about me?”

“No.” She said it gently. “I’ve only ever seen you as a friend. Nothing more. I was just… there. When you needed someone. And what’s wrong with experimenting?”

“So you used me.”

She tilted her head. “More like I gave you what you needed in the moment. Besides, if there was using, we used each other.” She winked.

My gaze lingered on her lips as she spoke, my senses dulled, I stood up and suddenly Crossed the small space between us. Without thinking, I stopped right in front of her chair. Still fixated on her lips. “In that case, can you use me again?”

Her eyes darkened. She reached up, hooked a finger in the neck of my shirt, pulled me down. The kiss was immediate, hungry, no preamble. Clothes came off fast, my shirt yanked over my head, her T-shirt tossed to the floor, both our shorts dragged down our thighs. We stumbled, landed on the couch in a tangle of limbs. Her mouth was everywhere, my neck, breasts, stomach then lower. I arched when her tongue found me again, fingers curling inside at the same rhythm that had wrecked me before. I came fast, shuddering, loud, clutching her hair like a lifeline.

She climbed back up, straddled me, guided my hand between her legs. I touched her the way she’d touched me, tentative at first, then bolder when she moaned my name. We moved together, grinding, kissing, fingers and mouths fighting for dominance until we both came at the same time, I felt my pussy clench as the orgasm rippled through me. After, we lay there, sweaty, hearts racing, her head on my chest.

When I finally caught my breath, I turned her face towards me. “What are we doing?” I whispered.

She traced lazy circles on my stomach. “Fucking.”

I giggled so hard I felt my chest hurt, Maria mirrored my laughter, mimicking me at some point. When we both quieted, I caressed her cheek with my thumb “I’m going to see Jack’s parents this weekend.”

She propped herself on an elbow. “Finally. So they exist.”

I nodded.

“What made him change his mind?”

“The pregnancy.”

She shrieked, half-laugh, half-horror. “You’re pregnant? We just—”

“I’m not.” I smiled. “I showed him the old tests. From before the miscarriage. Let him believe.”

Maira stared at me for a long second. Then she laughed, deep, delighted. “Wow, Em. I didn’t know you had it in you. That’s pure evil.”

I grinned. “I haven’t even begun yet.”

When I got home, Jack’s car was already in the driveway. Early.

He was in the living room, pacing. Looked up when I walked in.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Went to see Maira.”

His brow furrowed. “Does she know?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t tell family business to a stranger.”

He relaxed a fraction. Sniffed the air. “You reek of her perfume. Thought maybe you two were hugging and crying or something.”

I smiled. Memories of her mouth, her fingers, her laugh still hummed under my skin. “Something like that.”

He stepped closer. “I have a surprise.”

“What?” I tried not to sound uninterested.

He pulled two plane tickets from his pocket. Held them up like trophies.

“We’re going to see my family.”

I looked at the tickets. Then at him. I jumped into his arms. Let him hug me tight. “Perfect,” I murmured against his shoulder.

He had no idea what was waiting for him there.

Neither did his family.

But I did.

And it thrilled me.

Jack held my arm, gazing at me seductively. “Can we have another episode of last night?”

I smiled at him, soft and warm, letting the lie slip easily off my tongue.

“Of course, my husband.”