Page 3 of Loving Lauren
Sierra’s heart leaped.Could it be?Her eyes caught the light right. Sierra’s chest tightened with sudden hope. Her feet moved before her brain did, pushing through the crowd, pulse racing with possibility.
But the girl’s face was a stranger’s... not the girl from the park, not the one who laughed like she was part of the flock, surrounded by sparrows. The disappointment hit like cold water, leaving Sierra hollow in the middle of all that noise and heat.
“Sorry.” She stepped back, heat climbing her cheeks.
Back at the table, no one asked her. They just made room.
“I thought I saw someone from the park. I took her photo while she was feeding the birds. She’s been stuck in my head ever since.” Sierra ran her fingers through her hair.
“Bird girl?” Calliope gasped like it was the juiciest gossip of the year. “Tell me everything. Was she tragic and beautiful? Mysterious and doomed?”
Raven squeezed her hand. “Ghost girl crush. That’s so you.”
“Babe, you’re living in a rom-com and I’m absolutely here for it. Ghost girl has my vote.” Jett gave a fist bump.
“I don’t even know her name.” Sierra admitted, her head in her hands.
Calliope nudged her. “Maybe the universe does.”
They didn’t mock her. They let her keep it to herself. Let her hold the ache without prying, and that, more than anything, made her want to cry a little in the best possible way.
She slipped into her apartment, shoes in hand, hair damp with sweat. Salem meowed from the couch as if she’d been gone for weeks. She scooped him up and whispered in his fur.
“I think I’m losing it, buddy.”
He purred as if he didn’t agree. She stayed under the shower until her skin flushed pink, then pulled on loose pajamas and climbed into bed with her hair still wet. Salem curled against her hip like a comma, and she whispered again to the ceiling.
“Maybe she wasn’t real.”
Even in saying it, she didn’t believe herself. Some things don’t feel imagined. They feel like prologues, and Sierra wasn’t ready to let go of the beginning.
Chapter 3
Sierra stood in front of her bathroom mirror for the third time in twenty minutes, wiping off lipstick that was too much, then not enough. Her hands wouldn’t stop doing that stupid trembling thing, and Salem sat on the toilet lid watching her like she’d lost her mind.
“Don’t judge me. This is a big deal, okay?”
It was the first date in three years and the first date with a woman ever. The words kept looping in her head like a broken record. She always knew her attraction didn’t have gender lines. She just never had the words to describe it. The last three years, she just ignored the thoughts, but she couldn’t do that anymore. It was lonely. She needed to see if it was just attraction or if there could be more with someone other than her old high school boyfriend.
Three years. That’s how long she’d been hiding behind her camera, telling herself work was enough. For her, photography was all the intimacy she needed. Capturing other people’s moments, joys, and connections—keeping herself on the otherside of the lens where she was safe and nothing could touch her. Where she couldn’t get hurt again.
But then Monica happened.
Monica caught Sierra off guard at the bookstore last week. She was in the horror section, because where else would you be on a Tuesday afternoon? She was reaching for the new Stephen King when a voice behind her said, “Finally! Another woman who appreciates a proper nightmare before bed.”
Monica was gorgeous in an effortless way that made Sierra self-conscious of her ratty band tee. She had thick auburn hair in a messy bun and wore glasses that made her look both studious and rebellious. They’d ended up talking for forty minutes about whether modern horror had lost its teeth compared to the classics. Then Monica just asked her out. Simple as that. Just like that.
Sierra’s instinct was to say no, run, or make an excuse about being busy with shoots. But something stopped her. Maybe it was Monica’s genuine smile. Or maybe she was just tired of being scared, but she heard the word “yes” coming out of her mouth. She couldn’t take it back, and now, she was terrified all over again, getting ready.
Sierra finally settled on a soft black sweater that was casual yet nice enough to show she’d made an effort, jeans that actually fit, and the boots Thalia bought her she never wore because they seemed too fancy. She grabbed her camera bag out of habit, then set it down. Tonight was about being present, not hiding behind a lens.
She looked at herself one more time. This would work. Maybe.
Monica picked a trendy farm-to-table place downtown for the restaurant. The place had dim enough lighting to hide Sierra’s nervous sweating but bright enough to see the menu. She was already there, waving from a corner booth, and Sierra’s stomach did a weird flip thing that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
Monica said, “You came!” before standing up for an awkward should-we-hug moment before they both sat down.
“Of course I came.” Sierra tucked her hair behind her ear, then untucked it. Then she tucked it again. She needed to chill.
