“Wonderful,” Vanessa said. “This is going to be so much fun. Right, Stevie?”
Iris heard Stevie inhale slowly, waiting a split second before she managed a whispered, “So much fun.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
FOUR DAYS LATER, Stevie was wearing a bathing suit that didn’t fit.
She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been swimming, but now she stood on the warm deck of the Belmont Club’s giant pool with Iris, trying to get the courage to take off her tank and shorts to reveal a one-piece she’d had since she was seventeen. It was orange and pink and white—which she was pretty sure she’d picked out as some sort of baby lesbian pride statement—and had a one-shoulder style. The strap was so tight, it felt like it was about to snap.
A few days ago, the day after their fraught reunion at the Empress, Iris had texted while Stevie was wiping down tables at Bitch’s.
Iris: Hey sweetie
Stevie had stared at her phone. Of course, she and Iris had exchanged numbers before Iris left the Empress on Tuesday, but still, Iris’s term of endearment threw Stevie off balance. Maybe Iris meant to text one of her friends. Stevie ignored the text and went on with her shift, only to have her phone buzz approximately seven minutes later.
Iris: Snookums
Iris: Oh that’s horrible. Maybe just honey?
Iris: Baby. I like that one
Iris: Babe
Iris: Isn’t it a requirement that all queer couples call each other babe? Judging from my friends, I think it is
Iris: Darling, if we want to get fancy
Iris: Nope never mind, that reminds me of my best friend’s mom a little too much and shudder
Stevie just blinked at her screen as the texts piled in, unsure of what to say back. Finally, she settled for a very sophisticated Hey.
Iris: She lives!
Stevie: Sorry I’m at work
Iris: Where do you work?
Iris: I just realized we know nothing about each other. Might want to change that before rehearsals start.
She had a point there. All Stevie knew about Iris was that she was an author and lived in Bright Falls.
Stevie: Bitch’s Brew. If you like a little bit of queer witch with your coffee, it’s the place to be
Iris: I always prefer a little queer witch
Stevie: As do we all
Iris: I’ll let you get back to work, but I wanted to ask you out on a date
Stevie: A date?
Iris: A “date”
Stevie inhaled slowly. She’d agreed to this part of their deal, but figured Iris would simply . . . forget? Then again, Iris didn’t seem like the kind of person who forgot anything. Nerves flared through Stevie’s stomach, but she swallowed them down. She could do this. It wasn’t like she actually had to impress Iris—she’d already humiliated herself in the worst way possible in front of the woman. Plus, Iris was sweet. A little hyper, but sweet.
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?