Iris Kelly Doesn't Date (Bright Falls, #3)(34)

And gorgeous.

God, Iris was so ridiculously beautiful, Stevie had a hard time breathing just thinking about her freckles, her red hair, her—


Iris: So?



Stevie shook her head to clear it and texted, What did you have in mind?

Which was exactly how Stevie found herself wearing her pubescent bathing suit on a Saturday morning at the Belmont Club’s poolside Pride party in Portland. It was a fancy place that required membership, but every June for the last few years, they hosted a fundraiser for the Trevor Project and decked out their huge outdoor pool with all manner of rainbow paraphernalia. Apparently, Iris’s friends were all going to celebrate an engagement, and Iris wanted Stevie to go with her.

Be my date, she’d texted. We can get to know each other more and maybe it’ll be less awkward for you if we start in a group setting.

It was actually kind of sweet of Iris to think of Stevie’s comfort level like that, and the woman was already doing Stevie a huge favor by acting like her girlfriend during the play. The least Stevie could do was go to a queer pool party for a good cause. She’d certainly had her share of friends back in high school who’d needed some of the Trevor Project’s resources, and she knew the organization had saved more than a few lives.

But now, ten minutes after meeting Iris in the Belmont’s lobby, Stevie stood frozen by the pool as partygoers continued to arrive. And it didn’t help the situation that Iris looked . . .

Well, she looked fucking radiant. She wore a white tank top that was thin enough to reveal a bikini underneath—red, yellow, pink, and orange flowers, tied around her neck with a very thin string—and a pair of tiny denim shorts with the pockets hanging below the hem line. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and when she whipped off her tank top, Stevie nearly stopped breathing.

“You okay?” Iris asked as she started slathering on SPF 50.

Stevie nodded but still didn’t make a move to take off her own green tank. She glanced around, taking in the scene instead. It was pretty impressive, she had to admit. The pool was large and sparkling, and there were rainbow flags and banners everywhere, along with specific identity flags blowing in Mason jars on the patio tables lining the area. The deck sported teak sun chairs and large umbrellas in an array of colors, and a bar offered a variety of drinks featuring tiny rainbow umbrellas. It seemed to be a family affair as well, with a lot of couples of all genders sitting on the side of the pool while their kids splashed in the water.

“This is pretty amazing,” Stevie said.

“I told you,” Iris said, then held out the tube of sunscreen to Stevie. “Will you put this on my back?”

Stevie’s eyes went wide, but she took the cream, smearing a blob onto her hand as Iris turned around. Her back was smooth and freckled, and the only thing interrupting the swath of skin were two itty-bitty strings tied around her neck and ribs. Stevie started between her shoulders—a safe place—but as soon as she touched Iris, her knees wobbled a little. Iris seemed steady as a rock, but then she grinned coyly over her shoulder.

“Such a romantic gesture, sweetie pie, thank you.”

Stevie couldn’t help but smile at this new term of endearment. Iris’s joking tone helped calm her stomach, distract her from all the skin under her fingertips. “Sure thing, baby cakes.”

Iris laughed, then tilted her head forward to give Stevie access to her neck. Stevie finished the job quickly and was wiping her hands off on her towel when her phone buzzed in her bag. Digging into its depths, she saw Adri’s name flash across the phone’s screen. She grabbed the device and squinted at the text.


Adri: Hey how’s it going?

Stevie: Good. You?

Adri: Fine. How’s Iris? Things going okay?



Stevie glanced at Iris, who was currently slathering her curvy thigh with sunscreen. Their gazes caught, and Iris winked.

“Muffin,” she said, then made a kissy face.

Stevie snorted back a laugh.

Great, she texted Adri. Really great.


Adri: Good

Adri: So I was hoping we could get together to talk about the script

Stevie: Oh?

Adri: This project did start with you and me in a shitty apartment, after all

Stevie: And really bad pizza

Adri: God, so bad. It smelled like feet. Am I remembering that right? Didn’t it smell like feet?

Stevie: It totally did. But it was five bucks a pop and we were broke

Adri: Facts. So what do you say? Could you meet me at our place this afternoon?

Stevie: Our place?

Adri: Sorry. You know what I mean



Stevie did, but she hadn’t been to the apartment she’d once shared with Adri since she moved out, and she honestly wasn’t too keen to change that, particularly now that Vanessa lived there. Stevie winced, thumbs hovering over the keys. She looked up at Iris again, who was now waving to a group of people heading toward them.


Stevie: I can’t today. I’m actually at the Belmont with Iris



Three dots bounced onto the screen, then disappeared before appearing again. Stevie felt her throat go a little tight. But she and Adri were over. Friends only. Dating other people. Adri would understand.


Adri: Got it. No worries then



Stevie pressed a hand to her stomach. Dammit, she hated texting for this very reason. She knew Adri and there was definitely a tone to her response, but Stevie also knew if she asked about the tone, Adri—and most people, it was a fucking text for Christ’s sake—wouldn’t have a clue what she was talking about and then Stevie would feel like an idiot.