At Your Most Beautiful

by Harper Bliss

  She looked at the first picture in which she was wearing the red dress of the photo shoot—that day she’d seen Quinn again after ten years of living with their secret.

  Quinn had placed Maya on a background photo of Acton Academy, floating on a cloud above the building. Her arms were shoulder height in a perfect Viennese waltz hold, her head turned so she was looking down at the school over her shoulder. Her face was a picture of perfect concentration, but her lips were pulled into a tentative smile. Quinn had perfectly captured the marriage of effort and pleasure involved in executing the dance. The work was beautiful and would fit right in on the walls of Acton Academy.

  When she looked at the second version Quinn had made, Maya’s first thought was that it would never be allowed to grace the Acton hallways, nor should it be.

  In this image, Maya was floating above the skyscrapers of New York City. Quinn had changed the color of Maya’s dress into emerald green and had made it look like the dress was being blown upward by a gust of wind, revealing much more of Maya’s legs than was appropriate for displaying in a school. Her right arm was extended to the side while she had her left hand on her jutting out hip. Her head was thrown back and she was laughing as if she’d been caught in a moment of pure ecstasy.

  Maya didn’t know what kind of material had come out of the photo shoot and Quinn might well have captured her in a bolder stance or in the middle of a move she hadn’t been able to—or wanted to—stop. If she remembered correctly, which was hard because so much had happened since, Maya had been trying to impress Quinn. She’d been trying to show her that the passing of time hadn’t had that much of an effect on her or her dance technique.

  In this image, it seemed like the tables were turned, and Quinn was the one trying to impress Maya with her photographic eye and her editing technique. It was working. Maya could not imagine looking as stunning in real life as she did in the photo. Was this how Quinn saw her?

  Maya’s gaze was drawn to a black mark just above her knee. She expanded the picture and zoomed in. She burst into a chuckle. In the picture, Quinn had given her a tattoo. Life is for living, it said, in the same font as Quinn’s own tattoo.

  Quinn Hathaway was always ready to surprise her. She’d done so last weekend when she’d taken her dancing and she’d done it again now. She’d also very much managed to surprise Maya ten years ago, on that hot summer weekend.

  Quinn was smoking hot, talented, full of surprises, and very clever. And she liked older women—Maya in particular. The only thing stopping Maya from calling Quinn right there and then was her own fear. But, as Quinn had just expertly reminded her, life was for living. Not for abandoning your dreams because of too much trepidation.

  For that reason, instead of walking straight home after work, Maya visited her son. Maya often stopped by unannounced and Tommy always looked relieved when she arrived.

  “Ethan’s having one of those days,” Tommy said. “Surely he can’t be teething yet.”

  Maya took the baby from him so he could take a break. “It’s a little early for that.” Her gaze was drawn to the TV. “Look, Ethan, it’s mommy,” Maya said, as though Ethan could already see that it was his mother presenting the news.

  “I’ve tried that, but it’s not working. I’ll see if a bottle will calm him down.” Tommy headed to the kitchen. Maya followed him with a crying Ethan on her arm. She rocked him back and forth while gently rubbing his back. Even though he was crying, it was lovely to feel him in her arms. As though his grandmother’s arms were made of different, more soothing material, Ethan soon fell silent. His breathing slowed and he fell asleep with his face pressed against Maya’s shoulder.

  “You were like this with your father,” Maya whispered. “You’d cry all afternoon, until your dad came home from work and I’d hand you to him and you’d abruptly stop.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here, Mom.” Tommy stepped closer. He lay his hand on Ethan’s head gently while he kissed Maya on the cheek. “Do you want to put him in his crib?”

  “It’s okay. I’ll hold him for a while. Make sure he’s fast asleep. How’s work?” Maya asked while she slowly walked around the kitchen with Ethan.

  “Working from home with a small baby isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  They talked about work, Ethan, and his part-time nanny while they settled into the living room couch and watched the rest of the news.

  “I was just telling Ethan that he’s lucky that he can see his mom on TV when she’s at work.” Tommy sounded exhausted.

  “He’s a very lucky boy.” Even though Maya’s arm was getting tired, she couldn’t bring herself to put Ethan in his crib.

  “How are you, Mom?” Tommy sent her a smile. “I feel like I haven’t asked you that in such a long time.”

  “I don’t expect you to worry about my well-being at all until Ethan’s first birthday.”

  “I’m not worried. Just curious as to how my mother’s doing.” Tommy seemed to relax a little.

  “I’m doing fine.” Now that Ethan had settled down, Maya remembered her primary reason for stopping by. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but guess who I ran into a few weeks ago when I had my portrait taken for Acton?”

  Tommy huffed out some air. “Can you narrow it down? It could be anyone.”

  “She used to live next door to us in Milbury.”

  Tommy narrowed his eyes. “Quinn Hathaway?”

  “The one and only.” A shiver ran up Maya’s spine. It felt inappropriate while holding her grandson. “She just texted me the picture she shot for Acton.” Maya pushed herself up from the couch. “I’ll show you. Let me put him in his crib first.”

  Nerves tingled in her fingertips as Maya dug her phone out of her purse and navigated to the pictures Quinn had sent her earlier. Maya made sure to only show Tommy the picture that Quinn had made for Acton.

  “Wow,” Tommy said. “It looks like you’re flying over the floor.” He stared at it for a while longer. “Do you think you can get a high-res version of this?”

  “Um, sure. I can ask. Why?”

  “I can picture that on the wall right over there.” Tommy pointed at the wall opposite him. “It’s really well done. Quinn’s clearly good at what she does. How is she?”

  “Well. I think.” Maya’s only intention was to tell Tommy that she’d seen Quinn. Nothing more. And to see how he reacted to hearing about the girl he grew up next door to.

  “Married? Kids?” He grinned broadly. “Something tells me none of that is for Quinn. She never struck me as the settling-down type.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I always imagined her traveling the world with her camera, taking pictures of all the places she visited. Being a digital nomad or something like that.”

  “She lives in Brooklyn.” Maya put her phone away. “But she’s not married and she doesn’t have kids. She’s, um, single, I think. She’s gone through a bad break-up recently.” Maya was skating on very thin ice, yet talking about Quinn set something alight inside her. “We had coffee after the photo shoot,” Maya clarified, as though she had to explain why she had all this information about their former neighbor.

  “She’s a professional photographer?” Tommy asked.

  “And retouch artist,” Maya said, as though she’d known what that meant all her life instead of first hearing about it a few weeks ago. “I think she said she has an exhibition coming up soon.” Now it felt like Maya was defending Quinn somehow.

  “And that break-up she went through, that was with another woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “She never really paid me much attention when we were kids. Do you remember?”

  “You were a bit too far apart in age to play together, I guess.” And thank goodness for that, Maya thought. If Quinn and Tommy had been actual friends everything would be different.

  “I guess.” Tommy rubbed his face with his hands. “Good to know she’s doing well.” He let his head fall back. “God, I’m tired.”

  “Take a
nap, sweetheart. I’ll look after Ethan for a while.”

  “Really?” Tommy looked at Maya as though he couldn’t believe his luck. “Because he kept us up half the night.” He nodded at the TV screen. “CNN must have a spectacular makeup department because Beth did not look like that when she left for work earlier.”

  Maya chuckled. “Yes, really. You know I don’t mind.”

  “Thanks, Mom. You’re a lifesaver.” He pushed himself up.

  “Tommy, um, Quinn and I.” Maya’s heart was beating in her throat. “We’ve met up a couple of times. It’s been good seeing her again.”

  Tommy nodded. “It’s great that you’re making friends, Mom.” Tommy sounded more condescending than surprised about Maya’s small admission. Or perhaps his brain was too tired to process anything but rudimentary information.

  “Have a good nap.”

  “I’ll just be half an hour or so.” Tommy didn’t bother suppressing his yawns any longer.

  “Sure.” Maya remembered how easily a short nap could turn into a long sleep when you had a small baby.

  She waited until he had disappeared from view to reach for her phone. She navigated to the picture with the green dress, and was again amazed by how Quinn had portrayed her. Maya felt like she had lived her life a little more intentionally by telling Tommy she’d seen Quinn. Although she hadn’t really told him anything, and she had no inclination to tell him anything more any time soon, she had left the door ajar. She had let some light in. Quinn was now someone who actually existed in her life and Tommy was aware of that. It was a small step but it was a first one.

  Maya took a deep breath and texted Quinn back. She thanked her for the pictures and asked if she’d like to go dancing again on Saturday.

  Chapter 34

  “Sometimes,” Maya breathed into Quinn’s ear, “it’s better to dance than to talk.”

  The song was about to end, and Quinn needed a break but ever since they’d arrived at the club, Maya had politely rebuffed the advances of anyone else who invited her to dance. Apparently, tonight, she only wanted to dance with Quinn.

  Then again, Quinn didn’t much feel like rehashing all the reasons they shouldn’t be together. Her feet might be tired, but it was still easier to try and keep up with Maya on the dance floor than to start another conversation about their differences and what they stood in the way of. As long as they danced, everything had infinite potential. So that was what Quinn did. She clung to Maya’s body for dear life and moved her feet across the floor as elegantly as she could.

  After two more songs, Quinn had no choice but to take a breather and get a drink. She didn’t know how or when Maya had gotten so well acquainted with the bartender, but she got him to procure them a table in a corner of the club, away from most of the action. Maybe, Quinn thought, as she plopped down in a chair, there was another dimension to the language of dance that she wasn’t privy to. Or some sort of secret hierarchy that was valid everywhere when dance royalty like Maya turned up.

  “God, I love this place,” Maya said. “I could come here every weekend.”

  “What’s stopping you?” Quinn asked.

  Maya stretched her arm out over the table, her palm open to Quinn. Quinn responded by putting her hand in Maya’s. “Nothing, I guess.” She grinned. “Hey, look, um, later, when we leave, I’d like to go back to mine instead of your place.”

  “Okay.” Quinn studied their joined hands. Talk about mixed messages.

  “You’re welcome to join me,” Maya said.

  Quinn nodded. “All right. Let me think about it. See how I feel later.”

  Maya held Quinn’s hand a little tighter. “Quinn, I want you to join me.”

  Quinn wanted to leave for Maya’s place there and then, but she suspected Maya was far from danced out. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

  “Thank you.” Maya sipped from her cocktail. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get in touch.”

  “I get it.” This was starting to feel a lot like the beginning of Quinn’s affair with Morgan, when Quinn had never known whether they’d still be on the next day because Morgan always had something more important in her life to focus on. Maybe Quinn should remind Maya of what she’d missed the entire week they hadn’t seen each other.

  “Maybe we can talk tomorrow.” Maya squeezed her hand again. “Let’s just enjoy the hell out of tonight.” When Maya smiled like that, her face all lit up and her eyes sparkling like the brightest diamonds, Quinn would agree to anything. She had to make sure that didn’t turn into an issue—she had to make sure to stand her ground. But not tonight. Maya was right. They’d come all the way to Queens to dance the night away.

  “In that case, Mrs. Former National and World Champion, may I have the profound honor of the next dance with you?” Reinvigorated, Quinn rose from her chair.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Maya was still holding Quinn’s hand and pulled her close. “And in case you were wondering, you have all my dances tonight,” she whispered in Quinn’s ear.

  After a few more rounds on the dance floor, Quinn said, “Come with me.” She made sure to look Maya straight in the eye. “Don’t worry, we’re not leaving yet. I want to show you something.”

  “Okay.” Maya sunk her teeth into her bottom lip and followed Quinn. “The bathroom? You’re not showing me anything new.”

  “Come on.” Quinn pulled Maya into a cubicle and locked the door behind them.

  “Really?” Maya asked, her tone of voice more excited than questioning.

  “This is what happens in club bathrooms all around the world. Surely you remember?” Quinn ran her hands alongside Maya’s chest.

  “Maybe you don’t want to play the age game with me right now.” Maya leaned in to kiss Quinn, but Quinn pulled back.

  Quinn grabbed hold of Maya’s hand and put it over the tattoo on her lower belly.

  Maya tilted her head as if to ask, again, “Really?”

  In response, Quinn flipped open the button of her jeans. She hiked up the hem of Maya’s dress. “Dancing with you is the best foreplay I’ve ever experienced.” Quinn inched closer so that Maya’s hand slipped down her jeans with the movement. Quinn was too aroused to experience much doubt about this rather juvenile move of whisking Maya away to the bathroom. She could hardly use the defense of acting her age because, quite frankly, she felt a little too old for shenanigans like this as well, but a much more dominant part of her wanted Maya with a force strong enough to obliterate any rational objections.

  Quinn edged her finger along the waistline of Maya’s panties. “I want you, Maya. So fucking much,” she breathed into the heavy air between them. Then, she finally kissed Maya. As Quinn’s tongue dipped into Maya’s mouth, she let her finger slip along the panel of Maya’s panties.

  Maya responded by lowering her hand farther inside Quinn’s underwear.

  “Jesus,” Maya said on a groan. “You weren’t lying about being aroused.”

  Quinn shook her head. She cupped one hand behind Maya’s neck for support. Maya’s fingers lingering inside her panties, exploring her wetness, made her knees buckle. Quinn tried to focus on her fingers between Maya’s legs but it was no use trying to delicately circle her clit when she was amped up like this. She needed skin-on-skin contact. She slipped her hand inside Maya’s panties.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Maya whispered. “What if someone hears us?” It must have been a rhetorical question because, as she spoke, she drove a finger high inside of Quinn.

  Quinn tried to bite her lip to stop herself from crying out in pleasure but she only half succeeded.

  “Shhh,” Maya said, while she only made Quinn want to groan louder.

  “Oh, fuck, Maya,” Quinn said on a stifled sigh. “You drive me so fucking crazy.”

  Maya moved her fingers inside Quinn in such a way that Quinn forgot all about her own hand in Maya’s panties. Maya’s palm touched against her clit and Quinn soon forgot where she was altogether. All she felt, all s
he saw and smelled, was Maya, who was all over her and inside her, and who wanted to dance with only her tonight. As Maya had instructed earlier, they were enjoying the hell out of their evening. But if Maya still believed that their nights—and days—together were numbered, she hadn’t been thoroughly introduced to Quinn’s tenacity yet. There was simply no way Quinn was letting go of this, of what she had with Maya, for the sake of so-called decency.

  She abandoned her mission between Maya’s legs and focused on her own pleasure—she’d make sure Maya was properly pleasured later. On the soaring heat between her legs and on the woman who had created it.

  All week long, Quinn hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Maya. And then, she’d finally texted. For Quinn, that was the moment the foreplay leading to this had started. When Maya had asked her to go dancing again. Because Quinn knew Maya wasn’t only asking to dance. She was asking for so much more. She was asking for this, and for Quinn to go home with her, and for them to explore the next step in this as yet undefined thing between them. There was something there and it wasn’t something that was easy to walk away from, for neither of them.

  Otherwise, Maya wouldn’t have her fingers high inside Quinn right now. She wouldn’t have followed her into the bathroom, and she wouldn’t have responded to Quinn’s advances. Ever since they’d arrived, despite ample attention from others, Maya had only had eyes for Quinn, making her feel like she was the one and only queen of this club. This wasn’t rooted in any reality, but it was how Maya made Quinn feel. At least when she allowed herself to. When she set aside her apprehensions and made time for them to be together. When she allowed space in her mind to let the idea of them grow.

  Quinn was about to climax in the club’s bathroom cubicle. All the week’s tension flooded from her body until she felt drained but much more like herself again. Until she collapsed against Maya’s gorgeous body and asked, “Is there anything you’re not down for?”