Infatuation

First impressions, second thoughts and lasting influence. The one comes from the moment, the next from our experience and the last because we disregard all that and charge ahead anyway. I never should have even talked to her, let alone be pulled into bed. She was West coast, I was East. She was blonde and I was... well smarter than that, I thought.

"Hi, I'm Christi." She bubbled up in that perky, California way, stepping up next in the bookstore line. She stood tall and tanned all smiles with perfect white teeth in denim cut-offs and a silly bare midriff white top with full length sleeves.

"These girls must have cold arms and warm bellies," I thought to myself sarcastically and had to grin because it was a very sexy belly.

She held my book in her hands and waited for my acknowledgement before handing it over to be signed.

"So, Christi, do you like my book?" I asked the obvious question every first time author loves to have answered.

"Oh, I haven't read it. I'm getting it signed for a friend." She put offhandedly.

Well that made me pause and I looked up at her over my red rimmed glasses. "Really? Well that's awfully nice of you, but I've just written an inscription to Christi." I pointed out a little exasperated.

She leaned over the table and looked at what I had written on the first page of the slim tome. My eyes couldn't help but gravitate to the opening of her shirt. They weren't big, on the contrary, they were small and athletic, subtle platforms for what I imagined to be rosebud nipples.

"Just add an apostrophe "S" and BFF Jenna." she said helpfully. "Then she'll always remember I stood in line for this."

I wrote what she asked and handed back the book without another word. She smiled again and gave a silly wave goodbye before turning and bouncing happily away. "Californians" I thought with distaste and shook my head as the next person approached. I had been feeling lightheaded and queasy most of the morning and before I got two more done I had passed out.

I awoke on the floor with my head and long dark hair in a warm lap and looking up at firm breasts encased in soft white cotton. I was in the lap of Christi, who was administering the last of a pillsbury gel icing into my mouth. I looked up into those green eyes that seemed to smile, happy that I was conscious. When I tried to get up she pressed my shoulders back down.

"Don't rush it." She said softly.

"Christi?" I remembered her name from just minutes before.

She truly smiled as she looked down at me. "Well your memory seems to be OK. You're diabetic aren't you?" She held the used tube in my sight. "Found this in your shirt pocket."

"It's in case my sugar gets low..." I began.

"I know." Christi put in. "I'm a nurse. You didn't feel any signs before this?"

"Sometimes it dips really fast. I put myself on a special diet that keeps it low, but my doctor hasn't changed my medication yet." Slowly I sat up.

"Well, you should listen to your doctor, but maybe you should also get a new one because this one isn't listening to you." the blonde advised surprisingly sagely.

Christi stood up and helped me to my feet. She was half a head taller than me, slimmer but still very womanly in her curves. My own chest I knew dwarfed hers but her rounded half globes fit her athletic body and I caught myself again ogling them through that stupid white shirt.

"You really should get something more substantial to eat." my blonde savior advised. "There's a place a few stores down that makes great avocado tacos."

"What about my fans?" I tossed my head towards the small crowd still on the other side of the table.

"They just saw you pass out. I'm sure they'll understand." Christi insisted.

"Will you show me it?" I cocked my head and bit my lower lip.

"Sure" She gave that bubbly smile that moments ago I found vapid and annoying but was beginning to find rather charming.

After some apologies and a parting of the crowd that actually gave me pats on the back for my recovery, we found ourselves at a little storefront table with soft tacos stuffed with vegetables with not a piece of meat in sight.

"I should really thank you for coming to my aid." I said as I bit into what was basically a tortilla wrapped salad.

"I'm just glad I was there, Emily." and Christi really meant it.

"I'm sure someone would have eventually saved my life." I half laughed.

"Still, you should have a note with that icing if you're going to carry it, not everyone would know what it's for"

"I guess I AM lucky," Now I smiled at her, "that you were there for Jenna to be there for me." God that sounded better in my head, but she smiled anyway. "I should take these to go and get back, but I'd really like to thank you. Could I buy YOU dinner tonight?" I couldn't believe how bold I was. "and what if she's Çankaya Escort straight?" the thought finally occurred to me. "You'd have to pick the place though." I finished nervously.

"I could bring Jenna." She chimed right in. "She'd love to meet you." She picked up the thin book and waved it.

"Oh, uh, of course." I said. If she is gay Jenna might be her lover, "Jesus, Emily!" I screamed in my head, chastising myself.

We exchanged cell numbers and went our separate ways.

That evening in my hotel I put on my burgundy knit dress. It was sleeveless and kind of short. I would have worn the little black one that was sexy as hell and slimmed down my rump but if Jenna was there it would have been too much and I would have looked on the prowl. I played it cautiously. The knit dress with white hose looked classy and calm, but sleeveless and tight up top and the 'girls' were well on display. I nodded in the mirror liking what I saw. Now if only Christi did too.

Walking down to the lobby in the red knit dress and the littlest of handbags all my insecurities came rushing back. "One step at a time, Emily" I reminded myself. "Have dinner and conversation. Enjoy the evening with people... no matter what happens." Jenna and her being a couple would probably be worse than her being straight, because then I'd be a third wheel.

Arriving by cab I found myself at another quiet mom