Page 60 of The Lovers
“I’m the planner of a destination wedding, my freedom is never guaranteed,” I say, turning. She steps deftly into my path, all long legs, taut arms, soft flowing hair.
“One drink,” she says. Leans, running the curved edges of her nails down my arm to my hand. “I’ll even let you leave the walkie-talkie on.”
“Not thirsty,” I say, turning my face so it’s tauntingly close to hers. “Enjoy the spa.”
I step around her, and this time, she doesn’t get in my way.
“I came out to my family over the Fourth of July.” Her words hit their mark. I’m stunned into stopping, turning, unable to hide the surprise on my face. “It went wretchedly, as I knew it would.”
“I’m sorry they didn’t support you.” I’m torn between giving her a queer woman hug of solidarity and bolting before she can interpret my empathy as something more. “On the Cape?” No hug, just polite questions allowing her to share her experience.
“On the deck before fireworks,” she says. “Dad was mixing juleps. Mom was pretending to read her Nora Roberts. The nephews ran around the pool shooting water guns, Gavin and Helena were in floats in the deep end, and I just blurted it out.” She’s breathless, her cheeks flushed.
“I bet William flipped,” I say. Her dad is a staunch conservative WASP type. Old money, and even older ideals. “Well, as much as a man who tucks his shirt into his swim trunks canflip.”
“He didn’t speak. Not through dinner or fireworks, not until Pamela brought out the cake and started to cut. And then he burst out with ‘Lesbians aren’t Presbyterian!’ ” She laughs, but the crack tells me she still doesn’t think it was funny.
“Anyone can be Presbyterian,” I say.
“I told him I only go to church on Easter and Christmas, so maybe my religion shouldn’t decide my sexuality,” Piper says. I let a laugh slip out and she smiles, pleased.
“Have things gotten any easier since?”
She half shrugs. “A lunch with Mom, which unraveled into her trying to set me up withDiane at the club’slawyerson.”
“So, they’re in denial.”
“But I’m not anymore and that’s what matters,” she says, her voice going soft. “Right?”
Oh no, she’s looking at me with hazel eyes of yearning, totallymisreading my camaraderie as romantic interest. I have to shut this down.
“I’m happy for you, Piper, but you being out doesn’t change anything where we’re concerned.” I motion to the space between us. I know I sound harsh, but my voice just takes on this stern tone in her presence. I had to adopt it to ever land an argument. Now that she’s looking at me like that—all wispy and misty with hope—I just want to crush the dream. Not crushing it, not closing the door completely, scares me more than I like to admit.
Once, Piper had all the power and I had none. You don’t forget that feeling easily.
“Julia, would it kill you to give me another chance?” She huffs, her nostrils flaring with annoyance. She’s not getting what she wants, which is basically torture to a princess like Piper.
I give an almost imperceptible shake of my head. There’s only one person I’m willing to give a second chance to, and it’s not her.
“I’m interested in someone else right now,” I say, turning to leave, but then quickly adding, “Really happy for you, though. Enjoy the spa.”
When I’m far enough away from Piper, I tug my phone from my pocket, making quick work of going into Kit’s DMs.
Fire extinguished. Ready to start another one?
I hit send and immediately blush all over. It’s too forward. I’m assuming too much about what Kit will want right now, when we haven’t even talked about what this means in the bigger scope of our lives. I should follow up with something neutral. Ask if she wants to meet me at the restaurant. We can hang in public wherewe don’t have to make out. My mind glitches back over the frenzied kissing session at Homebase. Her wandering hands and hungry lips. Hungryfor me. I feel warm in one very specific place now, and it’s making me lightheaded.
My phonezzztts with a DM.
I’ll bring the matches if you bring the kindling.
I smirk with pleasure. Flirting, even over text, feels natural with Kit.
…to my airstream trailer. In case that wasn’t clear.
I launch out on the path, all reservations about how fast or slow this is moving forgotten.
Chapter Twenty-Three
