Spectrum

by MJ Duncan

  Anna beat her there, and whistled appreciatively as she peered through the glass. “Not a bad view.”

  “This is the room we use for small private parties, business meetings, stuff like that.”

  Anna nodded. “I can see why.” She laughed and tilted her head at the party that was happening just on the other side of the glass. “Kendall and Mitch are getting everyone on the dance floor to do the Electric Slide.”

  “Knowing Kendall, that doesn’t surprise me in the least.” Bryn chuckled as she stood beside Anna. Kendall and Mitch were at one end of the dance floor, waving their hands to get the crowd’s attention as they went through the steps of the dance and Erica, Thom, and Diana wound their way into the center of the group to encourage the group from within their ranks. It took surprisingly little time for the five of them to take command of the entire dance floor, and Bryn shook her head in amazement. “Wow.”

  “I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen anyone do the Electric Slide to Mony Mony,” Anna said, clearly impressed as she watched the group outside begin to move in concert.

  Bryn nodded. “It kind of works, though.”

  “Oh, it totally does. Holloway is going to be adding this to his wedding reception repertoire for sure.” Anna looped an arm around Bryn’s waist and pulled her gently into her side. “I think it’s safe to say the party is now officially a success. The line dancing has begun.”

  “Is that what makes a party successful?” Bryn asked as she wrapped her left arm around Anna’s waist, returning the light embrace. She sighed as her attention shifted from the happenings outside to Anna, who, as she had come to expect, was watching her.

  The world went quiet as Bryn stared at Anna, hypnotized by the way the lights outside the window sparkled like stars in her eyes. Her right hand lifted without conscious thought to caress the curve of Anna’s cheek, and she gasped at the feeling of Anna’s fingers doing the same to her a moment later, the touch so achingly soft that her stomach fluttered and heart beat heavily up into her throat. Anna’s shadowed eyes burned with a tenderness that made her breath light, and she licked her lips as she turned her face ever so slightly into the touch.

  It did not make sense, but when Anna turned into her, their hips pressing lightly together, Bryn wanted her closer. Her heart beat faster as Anna’s hand spread across the small of her back in a gentle hold, locking her in place with the most delicate pressure she had ever felt. Anna’s breath was warm against her lips as they stayed there for what felt like an eternity, closer than they had ever been before and yet still painfully far apart. The slow swipe of Anna’s thumb over her cheek made Bryn’s eyes flutter shut, and with that loss of visual contact, instinct took over.

  Anna’s lips were soft, and the broken gasp that tumbled past them was even softer. Bryn sighed as the hand on her back pressed against her harder and Anna’s mouth slanted tenderly over her own. She melted into the kiss, aware of nothing beyond the gentle press of Anna’s lips against her own. She moaned at the feeling of Anna’s tongue flicking hesitantly over her lips, and her knees threatened to buckle when she opened her mouth and their tongues touched for the first time.

  The kiss was slow, sweet, deep, and reverent—the kind of kiss that inspired epic poems and other priceless works of art—and when they finally broke apart, Bryn’s head was spinning.

  “God, Bryn,” Anna murmured.

  Bryn blinked her eyes open and froze, the force of what she had just done slamming into her the instant her eyes locked onto Anna’s. “Oh.” She jolted away from Anna, her left hand covering her lips that still burned with the warmth of Anna’s kiss.

  What had she done?

  Her pulse raced as she watched Anna’s expression crumble from one of unparalleled happiness to broken uncertainty, and her stomach clenched painfully as she stared at her.

  “Oh God,” Bryn whispered, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Bryn, please.”

  Bryn wrapped her arms around herself and took a step back as Anna reached for her. Her heart broke at the tears she saw spring to Anna’s eyes, but she did not trust herself to offer any comfort. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

  “Don’t,” Anna sighed, her eyes pleading as she shook her head. “Bryn.”

  “I can’t. I’m not…” Bryn held herself tighter and barely resisted the urge to run out the door. She once again became aware of the party happening only a few feet away, and her stomach dropped at the realization that somebody could have seen them. “Oh God.”

  What had she done?

  She shook her head as she took another step away from Anna. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It was a mistake. I’m not…”

  Anna’s eyes fluttered shut as her shoulders dropped in weary acceptance of Bryn’s rejection. “I know.”

  Bryn’s breath was coming fast and shallow as she stared at Anna, wanting to go to her but unable to make her feet move.

  “But I am.” Anna’s eyes blinked open, and the hurt that shone in them almost brought Bryn to her knees. “I am. And you…” She blew out a breath and ran a hand through her hair. “You. Kissed. Me.”

  Bryn nodded sadly. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “No. Please don’t apologize. I just…why?”

  “I don’t know,” Bryn whispered. And she wished that she did, because it did not make any sense. None of this—the fear rushing through her veins, the urge to reach for Anna that tingled in her fingertips, the heady taste of Anna’s lips that lingered on her own—none of it made any sense. “I’m not gay.”

  “Yeah.” Anna shook her head. “I’m going to go now. Because I can’t…”

  The thought of Anna leaving was what finally sent Bryn to her, and her heart clenched at the way Anna caught her hands and held them in front of her. “Please,” Bryn whispered, tears stinging her eyes.

  “I can’t. Not right now,” Anna murmured. Her shoulders straightened and she took a deep breath as she stared at Bryn with tears shining in her eyes. “I can’t have you touch me. Not right now. Not when I can still feel your body pressed against mine and the taste of your lips lingers on my tongue. I just…I…” She shook her head. “I want that,” she admitted, her voice cracking with emotion. “I want all of that and so much more. And right now I can’t pretend that I don’t, so just, please.”

  “Anna,” Bryn whispered brokenly.

  Anna smiled sadly. “It’ll be okay.”

  Bryn shook her head as tears slid down her cheeks. “I don’t want to lose you.” It was the most honest thing Bryn had ever said in her life, and she prayed Anna knew it.

  “You won’t. But, for now…” Anna swallowed thickly as she lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “For now I need to go.”

  Bryn could not stop her tears from falling as she watched Anna walk out the door, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she sank to the floor, her entire body shaking with the force of her sobs.

  Twenty-Four

  “Bryn?”

  The sound of Kendall calling her name pulled Bryn from her dark, swirling thoughts, and she lifted her red-rimmed eyes to her friend who stood in the doorway. “Yeah.” Her voice was rough, her anguish plain in the hollow husk that scraped its way from her throat, and she took a deep breath as she climbed to her feet, painfully aware of the way Kendall’s gaze followed her every movement. She held herself tighter as she turned away from her friend, needing the comfort the shadows provided as she tried to get herself under control. “How did you know I was here?”

  “Anna told me.”

  Bryn shook her head as just the sound of Anna’s name threatened to bring her to her knees all over again.

  “She asked Mitch to take her up to her car so she could go home,” Kendall continued in the same gentle tone, like Bryn was a horse that might spook at the slightest provocation. The click of her heels on the wood floor were measured as she crossed the room to where Bryn stood. “She was upset, and when we asked her what happened, she just said she needed to
go. And then she told me where you were. What happened?”

  “I ruined everything,” Bryn muttered. “Just like always.”

  “Ruined? How?”

  Bryn shook her head. “I just did.”

  “Bryn,” Kendall whispered. “Look at me. Please.”

  Bryn slowly turned to face Kendall, who was looking at her with such concern that she started crying all over again as she fell into her arms.

  “Okay. Hey…” Kendall murmured as she rubbed a hand over Bryn’s back. “Okay. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not.” Bryn shook her head. Nothing was okay.

  After a few minutes of just holding her and letting her cry, Kendall asked gently, “What happened, Bryn?”

  “I…” Bryn licked her lips and tried again. “I…”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Kendall said, pulling just far enough away to look Bryn in the eye. “What happened?”

  Bryn shook her head. Her world, which had made so much sense two hours ago, was now such a convoluted mess that she did not know where to even begin trying to explain. Her pulse raced as she remembered the way Anna sighed against her lips, and the rush that had swept through her when their bodies pressed tighter together as their kisses deepened. Just thinking about the way they had kissed made her stomach flip and her heart flutter into her throat, and she wished she understood why because it did not make any sense. “I kissed her.”

  “Oh.” Kendall looked unimpressed as she pursed her lips and nodded. “Okay. And?”

  Bryn did not know what kind of a reaction she had been expecting from Kendall, but this laissez-faire response was not it. She shook her head as she took a step back, giving herself space to think. “What do you mean, ‘and’?”

  “Well, I just figured…” Kendall blew out a breath and ran a hand through her hair. “Never mind.”

  “No. What?” Bryn crossed her arms over her chest. “What did you think?”

  “Honestly?” Kendall shook her head. “I figured you two had already hooked up and that you were just waiting to tell me about it for some reason.”

  “What?”

  Kendall shrugged. “It’s just…the way you are with her, the way you talk about her… I mean, shit, Bryn, did you really not see it?”

  The almost pitying way Kendall was looking at her was too much, and Bryn closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “See what?”

  Kendall was silent for a beat before she murmured, “God, you really didn’t, did you?”

  “Kendall,” Bryn sighed as she looked back up at her friend. She needed support and clarity, not half-finished sentences that made her feel sick to her stomach. “Please.”

  “You’re different when you’re with her. Happier. More open. My God, Bryn, you two are always touching—”

  It was true, but Bryn shook her head. “She’s just like that.”

  “But you’re not.” Kendall arched a brow in a way that challenged Bryn to defy her. “Except with her. Hell, from what I saw of you two today, you initiate the contact more than she does. You reach for her, you cuddle into her side, and I just…” She tossed her hands into the air. “What did you honestly think it meant?”

  “I don’t know!” Bryn fisted her hands in her hair and then let her arms drop heavily to her sides as Kendall just stared at her. “I don’t know,” she repeated more softly. “I just like it.”

  Kendall nodded. “And you kissed her…”

  Bryn’s shoulders slumped and she closed her eyes as the memory of that moment echoed hollowly in her chest. “Yes.”

  “Did she kiss you back?”

  Bryn huffed a laugh that lacked any warmth or humor, and nodded. “Yes.”

  “Did you like it?”

  The question was soft, spoken without a hint of judgment, and it was easier, somehow, with her eyes closed, to admit the truth. “Yes. But I’m not—”

  “Maybe you’re not as straight as you thought you were,” Kendall interrupted gently. “And that’s okay, Bryn. It’s okay.”

  Bryn’s heart raced and she shook her head. “It’s not. My parents…”

  “Are a couple of controlling assholes.”

  Bryn’s eyes shot open.

  “Yeah, I said it.” Kendall shrugged unapologetically. “I know we dance around the truth of the way they treat you, but I’m not going to just let them ruin this for you. You have been trying for forty years to make them happy—it’s time for you to say fuck-all to what they want from you and do what makes you happy.”

  “My vineyard makes me happy,” Bryn argued.

  “Yeah, it does. But Anna Fitzpatrick makes you fucking glow.”

  “It’s not that simple…” Bryn protested weakly.

  Kendall shook her head. “I know that it doesn’t seem like it, but it really is. She makes you happy.”

  “She does.” Bryn sighed and looked out the window at the party that was still going on outside. Everything was the same as it had been when she stood in this same spot with Anna, but it was irrevocably different as well. “But it doesn’t matter.”

  “Why?”

  Because I screwed it up. Because I kissed her. Because just remembering the look on her face when she told me that she needed to leave breaks my heart, and I want to go find her and apologize and I’m absolutely terrified of what that means.

  “I don’t know,” Bryn whispered. “Can we go home?”

  “Of course,” Kendall murmured. “Come on.”

  Kendall’s hand was gentle on her back as she guided her toward the car, and Bryn was grateful for her silent support as she climbed inside. The drive up to the house was quick, marked only by the quiet whoosh of air from the car’s heater, and the absence of Anna’s car in the courtyard when they finally crested the hill was like a kick to the gut.

  Anna was gone. Really, truly gone.

  Bryn had known as much, but seeing it made her heart break. She bit her lip hard enough to nearly draw blood as she looked away from the spot where the sports car should have been, and ignored the concerned look Kendall gave her as she pulled slowly into the garage. Silence that was thick and heavy and all-too-knowing settled over them as she killed the ignition, and she stiffened when Kendall’s hand landed lightly on her own.

  “It’s okay to not know how you feel about what you feel,” Kendall whispered. “Believe me. I get it. I know how scary and confusing it is to realize that you might not be the person you always thought you were, but it’s okay.”

  Scary was an understatement if Bryn had ever heard one, and she sighed as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Her eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror, and her stomach clenched when her gaze landed on the empty spot beneath the oak tree. “When did you know that you…”

  “Could be attracted to another woman?”

  Bryn nodded.

  “Freshman year of college. Do you remember my roommate Mia?”

  “Yes.” Mia was a girl who was impossible to forget. Six feet tall with a body that runway models would kill for, she possessed a sultriness that had made Bryn uncomfortable from the moment they were introduced. “I hadn’t realized…”

  “Neither did I, initially. But there was something about her that made me want to be around her all the time. I was happiest when I was with her—even if we were doing something stupid like eating take-out out of styrofoam containers and watching reruns of the Golden Girls—and if I wasn’t with her, I found myself thinking about her, wondering what she was doing, you know, that kind of thing. Then one night we were hanging out with some friends, drinking ten-year-old scotch like the spoiled brats we were, pretending to be cultured and wise and not completely full of bullshit, and I looked at her and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to kiss her.”

  “Did you ever do it?”

  “Kiss her?” When Bryn nodded, Kendall smiled wistfully and said, “Once. And that was enough for me to know for sure that I could absolutely fall for a woman.”

  “Oh.” Bryn looked back to the rearview mi
rror.

  The spot beneath the oak tree was still empty, and her heart broke further at the sight of it.

  Some of what she was feeling must have shown on her face, because Kendall said, “This stuff isn’t always black and white, Bryn. Yes, there are people who know for sure from an early age that they’re gay or straight, but then there’s a whole bunch of people floating back and forth in the gray areas in-between. And that’s okay too. It doesn’t have to be all-or-nothing. In the end, labels are for shit. Attraction is attraction and love is love. Find someone who makes you happy and that you want to make happy in return. That’s all that matters.” Kendall patted Bryn’s shoulder. “And that, my friend, is the Kendall Parker theory of love and sexuality.”

  Bryn chuckled and wiped at her eyes. “It’s a good one.”

  “I think so. It’s made me very happy over the years,” Kendall said honestly. She sighed and opened her car door. “When you find someone who makes you happy, truly happy, hang onto them. Don’t let the fact that they don’t look like who you thought you wanted keep you from realizing that they are exactly who you need,” she said gently before she climbed out of the car, shut the door, and walked inside the house without another word.

  It was the most compelling closing argument Bryn had ever heard Kendall make. Her heart skipped what felt like a handful of beats as she rolled those words over in her mind, and then it began to race as her eyes locked on the empty shadows beneath the oak tree.

  Twenty-Five

  Her heart would not stop racing. If anything, it managed to beat even faster as she drove down Anna’s street, hands clenched so tight around the steering wheel that her knuckles shone white in the intermittent glow of streetlights that flickered through the windshield. She did not react with this level of reckless abandon without thinking it through all the way—but she was apparently doing a lot of things lately that she did not normally do.

  She did not feel the chill in the air as she climbed out of her car, did not see anything beyond the red door illuminated by a single burning bulb in front of her. The light spilling through the windows on either side of the door told her that Anna was home, and Kendall’s words echoed in her ears as she made her way up the path, each step measured but determined.