Chapter 9: The Study Partner
The balcony door slid shut behind them, muffling the hum of the apartment's climate control. Joanna sank into one of the weathered teak chairs and stretched her legs through the railing, her bare feet dangling over the edge. Six stories below, the complex's pool glowed turquoise in the twilight, its surface undisturbed.
The spa had been Katie's idea. Two hours of steaming water and gossip, of other residents drifting in and out with their own towels and their own conversations. Joanna had almost relaxed. Almost.
Now, with the city's neon skyline flickering in the distance and the bioluminescent vines overhead pulsing their soft, golden light, she felt the last of the tension drain from her shoulders.
Katie dropped into the chair beside her, her damp hair already curling at the ends. She was wearing an oversized USD Golf t-shirt that had seen better days and a pair of black bikini bottoms that were definitely not meant for actual swimming.
"God, I needed that," Katie said, reaching for the small ceramic pipe she'd left on the side table earlier. "Hot tubs fix everything."
"Not everything."
"Most things." Katie packed the bowl with practiced efficiency, her thumb pressing the green herb down. "You've been wound tight all week. Did something happen?"
Joanna watched a drone glide past in the distance, its navigation lights blinking red and white. "I had my second session."
"And?"
"And it was... a lot."
Katie lit the pipe, inhaled, and held it. She passed it to Joanna without comment. The smoke was harsh on Joanna's throat, but she held it in, let it settle into her lungs, felt the familiar loosening in her chest.
She exhaled.
"I squirted," she said.
Katie's eyebrows shot up. She took the pipe back, took another hit, and exhaled slowly. "Okay. Wow. That's..."
"Embarrassing? Terrifying? A complete loss of bodily autonomy?"
"I was going to say impressive." Katie grinned, her eyes glassy. "Seriously, Jo. Some women never figure that out. Rachel must be good."
"She's... something." Joanna pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. "She gave me homework."
"Homework?"
"Practice. Twenty to thirty minutes a day. To stretch myself out." Joanna's voice flattened on the last words. "She says I'm too tight."
Katie snorted. "That's not a thing."
"That's what she said."
"Okay, well, she's not wrong." Katie passed the pipe back. "Some people are naturally tighter. It's not a problem unless it's a problem. But if Rachel wants you to work on it, there's probably a reason."
Joanna took another hit, smaller this time. The high was starting to settle in, softening the edges of her thoughts, making everything feel a little more manageable.
"She mentioned something else."
"Yeah?"
"She said some women find... study partners." Joanna stared at the pipe in her hands. "Someone to help with the homework."
Katie was quiet for a moment. When Joanna looked over, her friend was watching her with an expression that was hard to read—amused, but also something else. Something softer.
"She's talking about me, isn't she?"
"She didn't say your name."
"She didn't have to." Katie stretched her arms overhead, the t-shirt riding up to expose her stomach. "I've been your study partner for everything else. Roommates. Teammates. The only person who knows how you take your coffee." She dropped her arms, letting her hands rest on her thighs. "Makes sense."
Joanna didn't respond. She watched the vines overhead instead, the way their light pulsed in a slow, steady rhythm. Like a heartbeat. Like breathing.
"I'm not saying it has to be me," Katie continued, her voice gentler than usual. "If you want to go to the Wellness Center, they have equipment. Toys. Probably a whole room full of dildos."
"That's not—"
"I'm just saying. The option exists."
Joanna set the pipe down on the side table. She pulled her knees tighter, made herself smaller. "I don't know what I want."
"That's okay."
"It's not. I hate not knowing."
Katie leaned over and bumped her shoulder against Joanna's. The contact was brief, casual, but it sent a small shock through Joanna's system. She blamed the weed.
"Look," Katie said. "I'm not trying to pressure you. I'm just putting it out there. If you want to practice with me, I'm available. No strings. No expectations. Just..." She shrugged. "Doing what friends do."
"Friends don't usually finger each other for homework."
"Some do." Katie's grin was back, sharp and knowing. "You'd be surprised."
Joanna shook her head, but she was smiling despite herself. "You're impossible."
"I'm practical. There's a difference." Katie reached for the pipe again, but instead of lighting it, she just held it, turning it over in her fingers. "I think about you, you know."
Joanna's breath caught. "What?"
"Not in a weird way. Not all the time." Katie's voice was steady, almost clinical. "But sometimes. When you come out of the bathroom in just your underwear. When you stretch after practice, and your shirt comes up, and I can see your stomach. When you laugh—really laugh—and your whole face changes."
Joanna didn't know what to say. She'd been prepared for a lot of things tonight, but not this. Not Katie, who had always been so confident, so unbothered, admitting something that felt dangerous.
"You're hot, Jo." Katie finally looked at her, her gaze direct and unflinching. "You've always been hot. I just never said anything because I didn't want to make it weird."
"And now?"
"And now you're in a program that's literally about getting comfortable with your body. About exploring what feels good." Katie set the pipe down. "So maybe it doesn't have to be weird."
Joanna's heart was doing something complicated in her chest. Pounding, but not from anxiety. Something else. Something that felt suspiciously like anticipation.
"I don't know if I—"
"You don't have to decide right now." Katie's hand found Joanna's knee, warm and grounding. "I'm just offering. If you want someone to help you with the stretching, I can do that. No pressure to cum or anything. Whatever you need."
"Methodical."
"Very methodical." Katie's fingers squeezed, just once, before pulling away. "I can be clinical when I want to be."
Joanna laughed, the sound startling her. "No, you can't."
"Okay, maybe not. But I can try."
The city hummed below them, indifferent to the conversation happening six floors up. Joanna thought about Rachel's instructions. Twenty to thirty minutes a day. Stretch yourself out. Learn to relax.
She thought about the waterproof pad, the fluid that had soaked it, the feeling of something giving way deep inside her.
She thought about Katie's fingers. About the way they'd feel.
"Okay," she said. The word came out before she could stop it.
Katie blinked. "Okay?"
"Okay, I'll... consider it." Joanna pulled her knees tighter. "I'm not saying yes. I'm saying I'll think about it."
"That's all I'm asking." Katie leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smile playing at her lips. "No rush. I'm not going anywhere."
They sat in silence for a while, passing the pipe back and forth, watching the city blink and shift below them. The bioluminescent vines continued their slow pulse, a heartbeat that seemed to echo Joanna's own.
"You know," Katie said eventually, "the first time I had a session, I cried."
Joanna turned. "Really?"
"Full-on sobbing. Ugly crying. My therapist had to hold me for like twenty minutes." Katie's gaze was distant, fixed on some point in the middle distance. "My dad died my freshman year. I didn't know how to process it. The therapists at home were useless. But then Rachel—"
"Wait. Rachel?"
"Different Rachel. There are like six of them at the Wellness Center." Katie smiled. "Anyway. She got me through it. Not by talking. By touching. By reminding me that my body was still mine."
Joanna processed that. "I'm sorry about your dad."
"Thanks." Katie's voice was lighter than the subject deserved. "It's been three years. It gets easier. The point is—the program isn't just about sex. It's about healing. About reconnecting with yourself."
"I thought you said it was a perk."
"It's both." Katie shrugged. "Everything is both."
The pipe went out. Neither of them bothered relighting it.
Katie stayed leaned back in her chair, eyes half closed, her toes tapping against the railing in some private rhythm. Joanna watched the vines pulse and let the silence stretch. The city hummed below. A pair of drones crossed the sky, and somewhere down the block a car door slammed.
She thought about it. Really thought about it, in a way the weed made easier than it had any right to be.
Katie's fingers on the putting green, holding the flag steady. Katie's fingers wrapped around a beer at the team dinner last spring. Those same fingers, somewhere else, moving slow and patient the way Rachel's had. It should have made her skin crawl. It didn't. It made her breath go shallow, and that surprised her more than anything.
Twenty to thirty minutes a day. Alone, that felt like a chore. With Katie, it might feel like a Tuesday.
She turned the idea over, looking for the part that would break. It wouldn't be weird, Katie had said. Maybe. Maybe not. Katie had seen her hungover, injured, sobbing over a missed cut, dressed as a cheerleader for a Halloween party their freshman year. There wasn't much left for Katie to discover that could make things weird. The only thing that would change was where Katie put her hands.
And Katie knew golf. Katie knew her swing, her tension patterns, the way she held stress in her hips. A coach's instinct plus a friend's patience. It wasn't the worst training regimen in the world.
It might not be bad at all, she decided. That was as far as she let herself go tonight.
"You're thinking loud," Katie said, without opening her eyes.
"Just doing homework."
"In your head?"
"Pre-reading." Joanna stood, brushing off her bikini bottoms, and stretched until her spine cracked. "Tomorrow night. Movie night. Real one, on the couch, not the laptops."
Katie cracked one eye. "Since when do you schedule movie nights?"
"Since now. Consider it a trial run." Joanna headed for the sliding door, then paused with her hand on the frame. "We'll see how it goes."
Katie's smile spread slow, like she didn't want to spook her. "I'll bring the blankets."
"Bring the popcorn too. And don't be weird."
"I make no promises." Katie saluted lazily with her beer. "Night, Jo."
Inside, the apartment was cool and quiet. Joanna peeled off her t-shirt on the way to the bathroom and stepped out of her bikini bottoms at the door, leaving a trail of laundry behind her like breadcrumbs.
The shower came on hot. She stood under it longer than she needed to, letting the water flatten her hair and beat the last of the chlorine off her shoulders. The bathroom filled with steam. The glass fogged over until the world outside the stall disappeared.
Her body was still humming. It had been humming since the balcony, since Katie's hand on her knee, since the word offering.
She told herself it was just the homework. Twenty to thirty minutes a day. Day one, might as well start tonight. It wasn't cheating, exactly, to warm up before anyone else got involved. Rachel hadn't specified a start date.
Joanna leaned her back against the cold tile and let her hand slide down her stomach.
She started slow, tracing the line of her hip, the inside of her thigh, the way Rachel had on the mat. Her own touch felt clumsy in comparison, but her body didn't seem to mind. She was already slick, and it wasn't just the water.
Her fingers found her clit and she pressed, circling once, twice. A small sound escaped her, swallowed by the spray.
She closed her eyes and let the images come without judging them. Rachel's fingers curving inside her. The pressure, the fullness, the moment the dam broke. And then, unbidden, Katie's voice. I think about you, you know. Katie stretched out on the couch tomorrow night, movie forgotten, her hands warm and sure and methodical.
Joanna's breath quickened. She worked her clit faster, her hips tipping forward into her own hand, water drumming off her shoulder. Her other hand braced against the tile, fingers splayed, the steam curling around her wrist.
It built fast. She'd been on the edge since the balcony, maybe since the Wellness Center, maybe since Katie first said you're hot in that steady, unflinching voice. Her thighs tightened. Her jaw clenched, and then she made herself unclench it, relax, breathe, the way Rachel had coached her.
The orgasm hit in a bright, rolling wave. She gasped, slid down the tile an inch, rode it out with her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. It wasn't as big as what Rachel had pulled out of her, but it was hers, earned in her own shower in her own way, and it left her legs soft and her head light.
She stayed there for a moment, forehead against the tile, water running down her back, letting her heartbeat slow.
Then she laughed, a short, breathless sound that bounced off the fogged glass.
So much for not deciding tonight.
She finished rinsing off, toweled her hair into a damp knot, and padded bare down the hallway to her room. Through the wall she could hear Katie's music, something tinny and upbeat, and the sound of her laughing at something on her phone.
Joanna dropped onto her bed without bothering with clothes. Her phone glowed on the nightstand. She pulled up the calendar, found tomorrow, and typed a single entry.
Movie night. Bring popcorn.
She stared at it for a long moment, thumb hovering over the save button, the warmth still pooling low in her stomach.
Then she saved it, set the phone face down, and turned off the light.