“Okay?” she asked when their mouths were close, and Jenna nodded. Then Stevie kissed her. It was delicate and soft and perfect, and Stevie was absolutely not thinking about anyone else in this moment.
Not a wild redhead.
Not a loud and tender Beatrice.
Not a fake girlfriend with a single blue freckle.
“Do you want to go back to my place?” Jenna asked when they’d parted.
Stevie blinked, her stomach fluttering. But yes. Yes, of course she wanted to go back to Jenna’s place. That’s what all of this was for, and goddammit, she didn’t want to face Iris at rehearsal tomorrow and tell her she’d chickened out. So she nodded and Jenna smiled and before Stevie knew it, the two were walking down a cobbled Bright Falls street holding hands, reaching Jenna’s apartment in a couple of blocks.
“This is me,” Jenna said, unlocking a unit on the third floor. The building was cute, only three stories tall, and was on the other side of Main from Iris’s place.
“Great,” Stevie said, stepping into the small space. It was clean and modern, all gray walls and furniture, bright splashes of coral and aqua pillows and artwork here and there. A calico cat rubbed against Stevie’s legs.
“Oh, that’s Nyla. You’re not allergic, are you?” Jenna asked.
“No,” Stevie said, leaning down to scratch the cat’s head.
“Let me just feed her and then I’m all yours,” Jenna said as she disappeared into the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”
“Water is fine,” Stevie said, inching into the living room. Her palms were a little sweaty and she wiped them on the back of her shorts, then took off her hat and set it on the couch.
“Here you go,” Jenna said, handing her a glass of water.
“Thanks.” She took a single sip, eyes locked on Jenna, and then set the drink on an end table before reaching out and circling an arm around her.
“Oh,” Jenna said, laughing, her hands going to Stevie’s arms. “Down to business, then?”
“Yeah,” Stevie said, her voice only a little shaky. “If that’s okay.”
“More than okay,” Jenna said, then leaned forward and kissed Stevie.
Stevie gripped her hips and kissed her back. She tasted delicious, like wine and sun, and she definitely knew how to use her tongue. It was a perfect kiss, a kiss that promised other things. Stevie’s stomach gave a tiny, barely-there lurch, so she focused.
She visualized what she wanted to do with Jenna, painted the picture in her mind, the slow peeling off of clothing, laying Jenna down on her bed and pushing her legs apart, pressing her mouth to the warmth between her thighs.
Making her pant and scream and come.
But in her mind, when she lifted her head to smile at her lover, it wasn’t Jenna.
It was a wild redhead.
“Fuck,” she said, pulling back.
“Are you okay?” Jenna asked, worry creasing her brows together.
Her fingers still rested on Jenna’s hips. She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. Tried to get back into this moment, not imagined ones.
“Hey,” Jenna said softly. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Stevie shook her head, tears already swelling.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“We could just talk,” Jenna said, so goddamn sweetly.
But Stevie didn’t want sweet.
At least, not Jenna’s kind of sweet. Maybe, at another time in her life, another world, Stevie and Jenna would’ve made sense. In fact, Stevie knew they would, even if just for one night.
“I’m sorry, Jenna,” she said, dropping her hands from Jenna’s hips and taking a step back.
Jenna’s expression fell. “Oh.”
“You’re amazing,” Stevie said. “You really are, but I have to go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
IRIS HAD JUST settled on her couch with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine—no glass required, thanks very much—when a knock sounded on the door.
She groaned and let her head fall against the back cushion. Should’ve known her friends wouldn’t let her get away with storming out of Stella’s like a toddler.
Another knock.
She heaved herself off the couch. “You know, Claire,” she called to the door, “sometimes, a good friend doesn’t go after the recalcitrant redhead. Sometimes, you leave the recalcitrant redhead the fuck alone and let her—”
But her words were cut off when she flung open the door, ready to act like a real pain in the ass, to find Stevie in her hallway. She was out of breath like she’d run all the way here, her eyes glossy and locked on Iris.
“Stevie,” she said. “What . . . are you okay? What happened?”
Stevie stepped into Iris’s space, no hesitations, hands sliding over her hips. She kicked the door closed with her boot, pulled Iris closer.
“You happened,” she said before crushing her mouth to Iris’s.
Iris barely had time to be surprised, barely had time to think, before her body reacted. Her arms went around Stevie’s shoulders, fingers sinking immediately into her hair.
And shit, she was tired of fighting it.
Tired to telling herself she didn’t want this.
Stevie turned them around, backed Iris against the door, one thigh immediately slotting between Iris’s legs. And fuck, Iris was already wet, her clit throbbing. Stevie devoured her mouth, pulling at her lower lip before dipping her tongue inside. She grabbed the bottom of Iris’s crop top and lifted, exposing Iris’s lacy bra to her hands.
“I fucking love your tits,” Stevie said, and shit, all Iris could do was moan as Stevie’s thumbs swiped over her nipples, seeking and pinching. Iris tugged at Stevie’s shirt too, and soon half their clothes were on the ground. Stevie didn’t have on a bra, and Iris was dying to get her nipples into her mouth, but Stevie would barely let her move, pinning her against the door with her thigh, hands sliding down Iris’s ass and pressing her leg harder against Iris’s center.
“Fuck,” Iris said, the feeling zinging straight through her sleep shorts and underwear.
Stevie laughed against her shoulder, letting Iris go for a second. Iris whimpered in protest, but then Stevie pulled Iris’s shorts down her legs, nudging Iris’s feet to kick them free. Iris obeyed every request, already half dizzy when Stevie resumed her position, palming her ass again and grinding her thigh against Iris’s pussy.
“Oh god,” Iris said, tilting her head back. Stevie pressed her mouth to Iris’s throat, teeth scraping her skin. Iris kept one hand deep in Stevie’s curls, her other finding its way between Stevie’s legs.
“Shit,” Stevie said when Iris found her target, burying her face in Iris’s neck. She ground Iris down on her thigh even harder, Iris pumping her hips for more friction.
Fuck, she was so close.
Stevie moaned as Iris pressed the heel of her hand to the seam of Stevie’s shorts, moving her palm up and down, getting her fingers into the mix too. Stevie met her every thrust, and soon there was nothing but humping and moaning right there against Iris’s front door.
“God, yeah,” Iris said, free hand clawing at Stevie’s shoulder. “Please.”