Iris Kelly Doesn't Date (Bright Falls, #3)(86)

Stevie led her away from the booths and toward the water. The fair was set up in a park at the edge of town, Bright River rushing along to the east. Stevie kept walking until they reached one of the small docks, the fair’s crowd just a gentle hum behind them. A single lamppost in the grass turned the area golden, but the farther they walked out on the dock, the darker it got. The world was quiet, the stars above a brilliant silver.

“If you fucking say this is romantic, I will hurl myself into this river,” Iris said. She set her purple frog at her feet, then rested her forearms on the wooden railing, eyes going glassy on the water.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Stevie said, coming to stand next to her.

Iris turned toward her. “Well, you better say something, Stevie.” Her throat tightened, but she swallowed around it. “What was Ruby talking about back there? What is all this? These ridiculous dates. What are we doing? Because it’s not for my book, and it can’t be for you, because you barely touch me.”

“I barely touch you?” Stevie said. “I hold your hand all night. I kiss you when we say goodnight, and—”

“Yeah, a single kiss, how exciting. We haven’t slept together since Stella’s.”

“So, sex equals . . . what? Proves what?”

Iris scraped a hand over her tangled hair. “I don’t even know what that means. What are you trying to prove, Stevie? We’re fake dating and we were fucking—which we’re clearly not doing at all anymore—and now Claire’s thirteen-year-old seems to know something I don’t, so tell me what you want, Stevie. What is all this for? What the hell do you—”

“I want you.”

She said it so quietly, Iris almost didn’t hear her. Stevie’s eyes were fixed on Iris, the moon glinting off that light amber color, turning it into bronze.

“What?” Iris asked, her own voice a whisper.

“I want you,” Stevie said again.

Her eyes filled, and Iris could tell she was shaking, but still, she didn’t look away from Iris. Didn’t even blink.

“I know you may not believe me,” Stevie said. “But the night we slept together—actually, before, when I went home with Jenna—I realized I didn’t want some stranger. I never really did, I just told myself what I thought I needed so I could be . . . I don’t even know. An adult? A person who controlled her own sex life? But I didn’t want just anyone. And I sure as hell don’t want to have sex with just anyone. I want you. Everything changed that night we went to Stella’s. It was like waking up from the longest sleep of my life. But then the next morning, you . . .”

She paused, took a deep breath. Iris couldn’t even get a sip of air, her entire body locked up and on alert.

“You asked me to leave,” Stevie went on. “And I didn’t know what to do. I ended up at River Wild Books and I was a mess. Ruby was there. So was Claire, but I didn’t know it was her store. She found me and just . . . gave me some tea. That’s all.”

“That’s all?”

Stevie sighed. “I might have confessed a few feelings to Claire. I guess Ruby overheard.”

Iris’s own eyes stung, a pinch in her heart she couldn’t parse as she processed this information. “And this . . . these dates. This was all for me?”

Stevie shrugged. “Ruby was right. I was wooing you.”

“Wooing me.”

Stevie closed her eyes, inhaled deeply. When she opened them again, she took a step closer to Iris. “I know you’ve had some shitty people say they love you. I know you don’t think you’re built for dating and relationships. And if you truly don’t want that in your life, fine. I won’t argue with you. But I wanted you to be sure. I wanted to show you.”

Tears spilled down Iris’s cheeks. “Show me what?”

Stevie took another step closer. Iris didn’t move back. She couldn’t. There were only inches between them now and it felt like too much.

“Show me what, Stevie?” she asked again.

Stevie rested her hands on Iris’s waist, tentatively, as though waiting for Iris to stop her. She didn’t. Instead, she gripped Stevie’s forearms, her breathing loud and heavy. She felt herself fading, disappearing, the strong, secure, confident, no-bullshit Iris Kelly vanishing right before her eyes. In her place was a woman whose heart felt tender and raw. A woman who was tired, so fucking tired of fighting the way Stevie Scott made her feel.

Because Iris could see it now—these dates, every move Stevie had made since they embarked on this whole ridiculous deal together, it had all been chipping away at Iris’s icy heart, bit by bit, showing her that she . . . that Stevie . . . that Iris . . .

“Show me what?” she asked one more time. “Stevie.”

Stevie pressed her forehead to Iris’s. “That you’re worth loving.”

It was so simple. Just four words, barely whispered, but they felt like a bomb landing right on its target. Iris exploded—her heart, her mind, her skin. She was just a shell of the person she was even seconds ago, and she didn’t know how to put herself back together, how to do anything but simply dive into the explosion, join it, become one with all the shrapnel.

“Well, it fucking worked,” she said, her voice shaking as she slid her hands into Stevie’s hair and pulled her in for a kiss. And this time, Stevie didn’t settle for a single press of their mouths. She opened her mouth to Iris’s, wrapping her arms around Iris’s waist, hands trailing up her back and into Iris’s hair to her shoulders, then curling around her neck to cup her face, thumbs swiping at her cheeks.