Page 29 of Spicy Sapphic Christmas

“Can’t really complain.” Well, Bea could, but she wouldn’t. This was probably more to her and Jo’s advantage than it was to theirs.

“I’ve already gone through and picked out several songs.” Bunny took the binders that were stacked on top of the piano and handed one to Jo before walking directly to Bea and handing her another one. Their fingers brushed, and Bea’s breath caught in her throat.

This was going to be the longest fucking month on the planet.

Bea flipped open to the first page, which was the song Bunny had been playing at the piano. It was listed for just her as a solo. In fact, each song listed exactly who was going to sing what. There were duets, trios, and a few for all four of them, but absolutely none of them had Bea and Bunny singing together.

“If you have any other song suggestions, let me know,” Bunny said to the room loudly, as if she hadn’t already talked this over with Piper before they arrived this morning. “We can add them in if they fit.”

If they fit?Bea almost rolled her eyes, but she caught herself in time. The last thing she needed was to piss Bunny off before they’d even started. And they had agreed on civility.

“Siena said we’re to fill about three hours of time. There will be a small intermission in the middle. I don’t want the choreography to be too complicated. I think we could all probably use the rest from memorization.”

Bea pressed her lips together tightly. She wasn’t even sure what to say, but the command Bunny had over the room was astounding. Not just command, but her serious organizational ability on such short notice.

“Are you two warmed up?” Bunny asked, looking directly at Bea.

Her heart skipped a beat. She was staring into Bunny’s dark brown eyes like she could be lost in them for days. She lookedso relaxed in her loose racerback and jogging pants. Her tennis shoes were scuffed as if they were well used and loved.

“Bea,” Bunny nudged with a gentle tone.

“Oh, um, no. We didn’t.” Why did she sound so breathy?

“Right. We’ll do that first then.” Bunny took the open binder in Bea’s hand and snapped it shut. The sound reverberated throughout the studio before she sat at the piano and started playing chords.

Piper moved to stand next to the piano and Jo followed. The two of them stood on the back side, which left Bea with a choice. She could either make them squish together even more and face Bunny for the warm-up, or she could stand directly behind Bunny.

That was definitely the wiser choice. Then she wouldn’t have to see Bunny’s face while she sang. Bea moved into place, keeping at least a foot of space between her and Bunny’s back as Bunny’s fingers played over the keys. She closed her eyes, following the warm-ups easily as they went.

“All right, Jo. Your turn. Show me what you’ve got.” Bunny nodded toward Jo, and Bea’s eyes opened wide.

Bunny’s fingers pressed into the keys, delicately, one after the other with a firmness that Bea understood precisely. With every touch of Bunny’s finger to a key it was as if Bunny touched her, caressed her. Bea gasped as her knees went weak, the full brunt of the memory of Bunny between her legs hitting her.

She rocked forward, her front hitting Bunny and she had to grab onto Bunny’s shoulder tightly to keep herself upright. Bunny turned to look up and stopped playing immediately, swinging Bea down next to her on the piano bench, a hand on her arm and a hand on her waist.

“Are you dizzy?” Bunny asked.

Bea’s ears rang with a buzz so loud that she could barely make out Bunny’s voice.

“Bea,” Bunny said louder. “Bea, what’s wrong?”

“Just give me a minute.” Bea pressed her forehead against Bunny’s shoulder, trying to catch her breath. But it seemed every time she was just about to grasp onto it, it would slip away from her. Why was the whole world spinning off its axis?

Bunny snagged her hand and held onto it tight. Jo fluttered around, her noises barely out of Bea’s senses. She couldn’t focus. Bunny said something, but Bea didn’t catch what it was. Suddenly something cold was pressed to the side of Bea’s face. She reached up to grab it, finding someone’s hand already there, but she didn’t let go.

The cold was exactly what she needed to focus, and it brought the room slightly back into view. Well, not the room, but Bunny. Bea still hadn’t moved her forehead from Bunny’s shoulder, and they sat facing opposite directions on the piano bench.

“Give her some space,” Bunny ordered.

Heat kissed Bea’s cheeks. God, she couldn’t believe this was happening. It had been so long since she’d well and truly fainted, but she must have made the mistake of locking her knees, of not breathing right. She was so distracted that she hadn’t been able to focus on anything other than Bunny’s fingers.

Those strong fingers that traced a sweet pattern against her waist, the warm fingers that were the barrier between the cold-water bottle and her hand. Bea’s heart thrummed along steadily, too fast for the beginning of a rehearsal.

“She hasn’t done this in years,” Jo said, so obviously worried.

“I’m fine,” Bea managed to get the words out, but her voice sounded a million miles away. “I just need a minute.”

“You have it.” Bunny held still, unmoving, the stability and anchor that Bea needed in that moment. “Stay here as long as you need it.”

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