Iris Kelly Doesn't Date (Bright Falls, #3)(29)

Iris rolled her shoulders back. She cleared her throat. Then she very nearly cracked up at what she was doing. Nervous energy propelled her forward, so her first line came out on a bubble of laughter.

“I pray you, is Signior Mountanto returned from the wars or no?”

It seemed to work, though, curling a bit of mirth through the words.

“I know none of that name, lady,” Adri read as the messenger. Then, as Hero, “My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua.”

And so it went. Iris quickly warmed up to her character, this woman who was fed up with arrogant bullshit and at the same time clearly wanted to bang Benedick’s brains out. It would be fascinating to see this played out between two queer women.

The idea spurred Iris on even more. Soon, she was moving around on stage, flourishing her hands, scoffing when the line called for it. Though when it came time for Benedick to arrive, she quieted down. Their verbal sparring was fast, vitriolic, but she infused it with . . . well, with lust, if she was being honest. It just felt right, and she remembered hearing this whole play—at least when it came to Beatrice and Benedick—was one giant exercise in foreplay.

“You always end with a jade’s trick,” she said, teeth slightly gritted as she read Beatrice’s last line in scene 1. “I know you of old.”

Silence.

A very long, charged, terrifying beat of silence.

Iris was breathing a bit heavily, and she realized she’d jutted her hand toward Adri, one coral-painted finger pointing at her face while she read Beatrice’s lines.

Iris dropped her hand, cleared her throat. Waited.

Adri just stared, mouth slightly parted.

“So . . .” Iris said, “what now?”

“Wow,” Vanessa said, clapping. “I mean, Adri, right?”

Adri started to say something, but before she could say anything, the theater doors banged open.

“Sorry, that took an eternity,” a voice said. Iris looked out into the audience but could only see a shadowy form heading down the aisle. “Their lunch crowd is getting out of control.”

Iris frowned, the voice somehow familiar. She squinted to see, but the figure was still a blur in the lights.

“No worries,” Adri said, eyeing Iris. “Gave us some time to get to know your girl.”

“My what?” the other person said.

“Their what?” Iris said at the same time. “I’m not—”

But then, the person—a woman with a curly shag haircut and amber-brown eyes—arrived at the edge of the stage, stopping next to Vanessa and staring up at Iris with her mouth hanging open.

“Stefania?” Iris said.

“Iris,” Stefania said back, her voice breathy and shaky.

They stared at each other for a second. Iris’s head swam. She never expected to see Stefania again—never wanted to, if she was being honest. Something flickered in the back of Iris’s mind, puzzle pieces of this whole bat-shit experience coming together—the way Adri and Vanessa seemed to know who she was, her name, this her they kept talking about surprising.

What the hell was going on?

She opened her mouth to ask exactly that, but then, as though she was lit abruptly on fire, Stefania dropped a paper bag on the floor, hopped onto the stage, and pulled Iris into her arms.





CHAPTER TEN





IRIS.

Iris was here.

At the Empress.

On stage.

Stevie felt dizzy, embarrassment clouding into her cheeks as she stared at the redhead she’d puked all over just seventy-two hours ago.

The redhead her entire friend group thought she was having sex with.

No, not just having sex with.

Dating.

Iris swam in her vision, and she knew she had to do something. Say something. Before she could really think through it, she dropped the sushi that took her nearly an hour to procure and ran up the stage steps.

Slid her arms around Iris’s waist and pulled her close.

“Please,” she whispered in Iris’s ear.

It was all she could think to say.

Iris was stiff, shocked, as she damn well should be, but she also smelled amazing, all ginger and bergamot, the fabric of her light sweater like silk under Stevie’s fingers.

“Please,” Stevie said again when Iris didn’t embrace her back. Which, Stevie knew, was a clear sign she should back off, but desperation to get out of this situation without her entire lie blowing up in front of Vanessa and Adri drove any other thought to the far corners of her mind.

Finally—thank Christ, finally—Iris softened and wrapped her arms around Stevie’s shoulders, but not without a “What the hell” whispered back into Stevie’s ear.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Stevie said. “Just let me—”

“That is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Vanessa said, her voice floating up from the audience. “Right, babe?”

“Pretty cute,” Adri said, though her tone was decidedly more thoughtful. It jolted Stevie back into reality and she pulled away from Iris.

Iris met her eyes, fire in all that green.

I’m sorry, Stevie mouthed again. She could fix this. Explain it. Iris had tucked her into bed, for god’s sake. Surely she’d understand the need to save a little face in front of an ex.