“This isn’t very romantic,” Iris finally said. She needed to break this spell.
“No, it’s not. And it’s hot as ever-loving fuck.” Stevie wiped at her forehead, slicking her hair back, then grew serious again. “Do you want to go back to the pool?”
“Not even a little.”
“Oh thank god,” Stevie said. “I mean, I could pay two hundred bucks for a club bathing suit, but then I wouldn’t be able to buy groceries for like a month, so.”
“Understood.”
Still, neither woman moved. It was true Iris didn’t want to risk seeing Jillian again or explain to her friends what had happened, but she also didn’t want to go home.
She didn’t want Stevie to go home.
For the first time in a long time, despite her encounter with Jillian, she felt . . . relaxed. She wasn’t thinking about her disaster of a book. She wasn’t thinking about how things were changing in her friend group. She wasn’t thinking about how everyone seemed to be moving on, growing, changing without her.
She simply was, with another disaster by her side—because Stevie was one hundred percent an adorable disaster—and it felt like that first gulp of cold water after a long hike.
“You know, pumpkin,” she said, sitting up and wrapping her towel back around her waist, “I think I could go for a super queer and witchy flat white.”
Stevie lifted a brow. “Really.”
“You know a place?”
“I might. Get a hell of a discount there too.”
Iris grinned. “Great. But, honeybee, you have to go collect our shit out by the pool, because there’s no way I’m going out there again.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IT WASN’T A long drive to Bitch’s, but Stevie hadn’t been in Iris’s car since that night, and she was having visceral flashbacks that left her both horrified and a little . . . charged.
Unhelped by the fact that she had no underwear on.
After she’d grabbed their stuff from the pool deck and explained to Iris’s crew that Iris had a headache, she’d taken off her bathing suit in the locker room and adorned her tank and shorts. As she’d met Iris at the Belmont already wearing her ill-fitting suit, she hadn’t even thought to bring undergarments to change into. Granted, her chest wasn’t exactly crying out for constant support, and she didn’t wear a bra half the time anyway.
“God, I love the city,” Iris said, stepping out of her car about two blocks from Bitch’s. She spread her arms on the sidewalk and lifted her face to the sun, a cloud just passing over the light and sending her face into shadow. Passersby looked at her sideways as they edged around her, and it was clear Iris did not give two shits.
Stevie couldn’t help but smile at her. “Have you always lived in Bright Falls?”
Iris dropped her arms and twirled around once, then linked elbows with Stevie as they started walking. “Yep. Well, since I was ten when we moved there from San Francisco. And I went to college at Berkeley.”
“So you’ve got plenty of city blood in you,” Stevie said.
Iris nodded. “I guess so. I love small towns, but this . . .” She waved her hands at the street. “The buzz, the lights, the people. The rainbow flags. It’s not Bright Falls.”
“Have you ever thought about moving?”
A frown creased Iris’s forehead, her mouth dropping open for a second before snapping shut. She shook her head. “Everyone I love is in Bright Falls.”
Stevie nodded. “Everyone I love is here.”
Iris smiled at her, then nudged her with her shoulder. “What about you? Born and bred in the city?”
“Oh, god no. I was born in Petaluma.”
“Is that in California?”
“Yeah, super small town. My mom’s still there. She’s a veterinarian. It was just her and me growing up, and it was great, but when I turned eighteen . . . I don’t know. It wasn’t easy being queer there.”
Iris squeezed her arm. “I can imagine. It was only bearable for me in Bright Falls because of Claire. Plus, I didn’t really understand I was bi until college. You were young when you realized?”
“Yeah. Thirteen. Add my anxiety into the mix and it was interesting. My mom was always really supportive though.”
“At least there’s that.”
“Way more than a lot of kids in my town got.” They stopped at the crosswalk between blocks. “What about your family?”
Iris took a deep breath. “Mostly supportive. Catholic. Middle child fuck-up to a perfect older brother and younger sister.”
“Fuck-up?” Stevie asked, frowning. “How?”
Iris shrugged and they started walking again. “No spouse and no kids and no plans to change my status in the future? Plus, I like sex a little too much, so there’s that.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Iris shot her a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “They love me, but . . . well . . . my mother worries.” She hooked finger quotes around the last word.
Stevie opened her mouth to ask more, but Bitch’s came up on the left and Iris’s smile turned real.
“This place looks amazing.” She motioned to the various Pride flags blowing in the wind by the dark oak door, coupled with the witchy font declaring the shop name on the window. “In Bright Falls, there are only a couple places that go all in for Pride.”
Stevie laughed. “Here, it’s like a parade every day.”
“I love it.”
Stevie’s smile broadened as she watched Iris take in the decor and was just about to open the door when she saw her.
Adri.
Through the window.
Staring right at them with wide eyes and a copy of Much Ado in her hands.
“Oh shit,” Stevie said on an exhale.
“What?” Iris asked, looking around. Stevie knew the second Iris spotted Adri too, because her whole body stiffened. “Oh. Okay. Showtime, then.”
“Fuck,” Stevie said, her oxygen level immediately depleting. She wasn’t prepared for this. Hadn’t even considered that one of her friends might be at Bitch’s, much less Adri herself, but she should’ve. She should’ve known or foreseen or— “Hey,” Iris said softly. She waved at Adri, then moved them both closer to the door so they were out of her line of sight. “It’s okay.”
“Fuck, fuck.” It was all Stevie could think to say.
“You’re really freaked out.”
“I just . . . I’m not great with surprises.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Sorry,” Stevie said. Fuck, she was such a mess.
“It’s okay,” Iris said. “This is the first time we really have to do this. You just need to get into the mood a little. Let’s practice. Just us.” Her fingers brushed Stevie’s, lightly at first, then she linked their hands together. Stevie’s stomach swooped at the contact, but she knew this was just part of the game.
“All right?” Iris asked.
Stevie nodded, breathed.
“We’ll be fine,” Iris said. “A little hand holding, a little leaning. That’s it. It’s not like we have to have sex on a table in there to prove we’re together.”