Skye used the hand not attached to Celene to sweep at her forehead, brushing through her bangs. “Let’s make our own—a reality word—that’ll act like a pause button. I don’t want either of us to lose ourselves.”
“A reality check-in. I like that.” Celene slipped their fingers more into alignment. “One of us says the word, the other repeats it as confirmation. And we speak what’s on our minds, no matter how honest. If we’re uncomfortable or confused or, I suppose, really enjoying the moment.”
Like now. Skye enjoyed everything about almost holding Celene’s hand. Tingles at her fingertips spread to the rest of her arm. “What word should we use?”
“Mmm,” Celene hummed, sipping the remaining drops from a glass. She licked her lips, and Skye looked away. “Dragonfruit?”
“Dragonfruit it is.”
“Dragonfruit.”
“Okay, yes.”
“No, I’m using it now.Dragonfruit.”
“Ah, sorry.” Skye had been scaling every tendon and bend of Celene’s skin in her mind, imagining them as prominent as Mount Pocono. “Dragonfruit.”
Celene tugged her bottom lip with her teeth, in a moment of appearing unsure. “Are you attracted to me, too?”
Skye fussed with her necklace’s clasp. Her nape sizzled. “Candid honesty. You’re not my usual type.”
Too sometimes-y. Overly composed, occasionally detached. Unpredictably mischievous. Not the warmest conversationalist. At times, a little corporate.
Yet, the truth flowed out of Skye like the lone hawk she spotted outside the window—soaring, gliding around the blue with its distinctive form. Skye gripped Celene’s hand before she could jerk away. “Which is why you’re appealing. I can’t depend on my past experiences. I’ve known you when you wore a long fishtail braid; now I want to know the Celene who helped a stranger on the side of the road.”
“That’s quite a long-winded yes.”
Accidental or not, Skye shouldn’t toy with the emotions of someone who’d been betrayed by an ex. “Fine. I acknowledge you’re kind of mesmerizing.” She made a suction sound effect while lifting their hands, closing the portal to this terrifying honesty.
Despite Celene’s measured smile, a single twitch of her lip said it all. She wasbasking. All grace, she moved on, asking, “Did you remember your book?”
“I did.” Skye gestured to the hall. “There are bathrooms over there, right? May I?”
“Use mine in the primary. I gave it a total refresh.” Celene departed for the sliding door, a lightness to her step. “Meet me out at the hammock when you’re done.”
As Skye rushed to relieve herself of that juice, she couldn’t fight the exhilaration of peeling Celene Vale’s layers.
An old friend had its charm. A new friend brought adventure.
“How long are you visiting?”
Skye utilized her valuable alone time in the bathroom to sort out her zig-zagging thoughts and came up short.
The delicate slide of her fingers along Celene’s. Their mutual attraction. Tight athleisure. Dragonfruit, strawberry, lemon. Reality safe words. Too much on the brain. Her generic question would have to do.
Celene had gotten comfortable in the hammock, the length of her body reclined so that her bare feet almost reached the other end. “My sister and her husband are on their honeymoon, so for at least two weeks. Depends on my mood and the house’s progress.”
At least two.Skye would fixate on that.
In the light of day, rays shone on Zinnia’s paperback, revealing the well-worn bends and creases of a story read many times over. She fanned the pages against her palm as she hopped down from the deck steps, landing on the gravel with a soft scuff. “Alright, cool. Yielding’s Toast Festival is later this week. On Saturday.”
Eyes fixed on her screen, Celene asked, “Toast Festival? Should I have remembered this?”
“No, it started...” Skye blinked up at the clear sky, noticing a round, neat nest high up in a tree. She didn’t find her train of thought until the Eastern Bluebird returned to it minutes later. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Whatever you were looking at put a smile on your face.”
“A mama bluebird,” she clarified, smile withstanding. “Anyway, the Toast Festival began after you stopped coming.It’s the twentieth anniversary, so I’ve been assisting Luce in stockpiling sandwich-themed mosaic pieces. She sells out every year.”