She's On Top. Susan Lyons

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She's On Top - Susan  Lyons

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was a vet student in Vancouver, and her lawyer boyfriend lived in San Francisco. Far enough apart that they only got to see each other every two or three weeks, for a weekend.

      “Suzie Q’s right.” Jenny leaned forward too. “Every relationship is complicated; there are always so many issues. You need to see if you can work stuff out. If your feelings for each other grow.” She winked. “If the sex gets better and better or fizzles out.” She gestured with one graceful hand—going up, curving over a hump, then zooming down with a “whee-oooooops.”

      “Issues,” Rina said thoughtfully. Suzanne and Jaxon had issues of geography, though thank heavens no one was making a big deal of the fact she was Caucasian and he was African-American.

      The race issues were Jenny and Scott’s. Her Chinese-Canadian family hated her dating a white firefighter, and his German-Canadian farming family was no keener about a white-collar journalist of Asian descent.

      And then there was Ann and Adonis. Until a few weeks ago, Ann had been a workaholic lawyer. Now she and her new guy, a laid-back massage therapist, were trying to find a lifestyle that worked for both of them.

      Hmm. Rina’d been envious of the girls, having hot sex with amazing men, but the truth was, they also had serious complications to deal with. “You know, Al and I don’t have any issues. We’re compatible. We’ve never argued about anything.”

      In fact, the only subject they’d disagreed on was whether they were ready to get engaged.

      Ann ran a hand through her tawny hair. “Remember when I was stewing about Adonis and David? You told me to close my eyes and figure out what I really felt about each of them. Have you done that about Al?”

      “I’ve been doing nothing else since Saturday night.” Well, except for having that crazy dream, which had absolutely nothing to do with Al’s proposal.

      “Really?” Ann asked, affection in her eyes. “Or have you been thinking and dithering, rather than feeling?”

      Jenny, who was drinking at that moment, gave a splutter of laughter that almost spewed wine across the table.

      Rina had to smile, both at Ann’s comment and Jen’s reaction. “Okay, you caught me. I’ve either been dithering or telling myself not to think about it, to wait until tonight.” She glanced around, still worried but also hopeful. “I get so confused when I’m on my own. I knew you’d help me sort it out.”

      Their waitress drifted by and Jenny said, “Let’s order calamari, hummus and pita to get us going.”

      They all nodded agreement and the waitress topped up their wine glasses.

      Then Suzanne said, “Okay, Rina, do it. Close your eyes and concentrate on your feelings. What does your heart say about Al?”

      “Breathe deeply,” Ann put in. “It can help take you beyond all the surface buzz, down to a deeper level.”

      Rina hid a smile. Adonis sure was having an impact on Ann. She took a long, slow drink of wine, then put her glass down. She took a breath, tried to make it go deep. Good God, she played the clarinet; if anyone knew about breathing properly, it was her.

      Gradually the outside world receded. She was only dimly aware of Greek bouzouki music and the buzz of conversation elsewhere in the restaurant.

      What did she feel for Al? A dentist with a successful practice, he worked reasonable hours and kept a good balance in his life. He was such a nice man. Supportive of her career. He’d come to the operatic society’s last performance.

      No, wait, she was supposed to be feeling, not thinking.

      Softly she said, “I always thought, when a man was The One, I’d know. Maybe that was a foolish romantic notion. Al’s great, but my heart isn’t jumping up and down for joy. When I see him, I feel a nice warm feeling, but…” She opened her eyes. “You all feel more than that, don’t you? With your guys?”

      “Sparks,” Jenny said, and Suzanne and Ann nodded.

      Rina sighed and reached up both hands to pull the thick curls away from her face. “I thought once we’d been lovers for a while, I’d start feeling that kind of chemistry.”

      “You said the sex was good,” Suzanne said gently.

      “Good isn’t good enough,” Jenny said.

      “Unless it gets better by leaps and bounds each time you’re together,” Ann added. “But you’re not saying that.”

      “Maybe it’s me,” Rina said. “I mean, it takes two for there to be sparks. Passion.” Like she’d felt in last night’s dream.

      “Passion,” Ann repeated. “Remember what you asked me, about Adonis and David? Whether I could imagine having romantic love, a grand passion, with either?”

      Rina bit her lip. “I can’t imagine having that with Al. But maybe it’s not my destiny.”

      “Of course it is,” Jenny said. “You’re not even twenty-seven. Destiny didn’t hit Ann until she was an old lady of twenty-eight.” She winked at Ann, the oldest of the Foursome. “If Al doesn’t feel like The One, then wait, Rina. Your destiny will come along when the time’s right.”

      “My bashert,” Rina murmured. “Aunt Rivka says Uncle David is her bashert. It’s Yiddish for destiny, and we also use it to mean that special person who’s just for us.”

      “Rina?” Ann said. “You’re a romantic, and that’s great.” She hesitated. “But is it possible you’re expecting too much? Maybe no man could ever live up to your romantic vision. What if Al really is your bashert, but you’re not letting yourself recognize that?”

      “That’s what I’m worried about. I don’t know how to tell.” Rina scowled just as the waitress arrived with the appetizers. “Sorry, I wasn’t frowning at you.”

      “No worries.” The waitress winked as she put the plates down. “But take it from me, men can give you wrinkles.”

      When she’d gone, Jenny squeezed lemon on the calamari and they each speared a ring. Rina, perennially trying to lose weight, was still pulling the batter off her first one when the others eagerly dived in for more.

      She put down her fork. “So, how do I know if Al’s the right man? How do the three of you know?”

      “My tough little heart turns to mush,” Jen said with a rueful grin. “Something I’d never believed was physically possible, but that’s what Scott does to me.” Her grin widened. “And you all thought I was going to talk about sex. So, not to let you down, I’ll also say the sex is off the scale, and it’s not just technique, it’s the emotional connection.”

      Ann and Suzanne were nodding so hard they looked like bobble-head dolls.

      “No mushy heart,” Rina said sadly. “And the sex is warm and affectionate, but not—”

      “Really, really intimate,” Suzanne said.

      “Where you can’t tell where one of you leaves off and the other begins,” Ann said. “It’s like you’ve merged totally

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