by Bryce Oakley
"Mom, don't break her wrist," Zoey said, watching the exchange with confusion.
"Oh my gosh, Karen and Pat are never going to believe I met you. Can we take a picture?" Mom said, taking her phone out of her purse.
"Of course," Pia said.
"Honey, take our picture," Mom said, shoving her phone into Zoey's hands. "Use the flash."
"I know how to use a phone, Ma," Zoey said, reverting straight into her angsty teenage years.
Dad leaned into the picture, and before Zoey knew it, she was taking a picture of her parents with Pia.
They had come to her release party and were taking photos with Pia.
Fucking classic.
"Wait, Zo, get in here," Pia said, waving an arm. "We can take a selfie."
Zoey nearly objected, but Pia looked so earnest in her request. Also, she thought it may be necessary to get between her mother and Pia. Pia took the phone and angled her body, tucking Zoey into her chest with Zoey's mother beside her and Dad in the back. She extended her arm, fitting the four of them in the shot.
"Thank you so much. I'm texting it to the girls right now," Mom said, looking down at her phone.
Zoey held her tongue, replacing her empty champagne flute on a tray as another waiter came by.
"Zo, I came to grab you because Micah was asking for you," Pia explained, giving a wave to her parents as she took Zoey by the elbow.
She led Zoey away from her parents and through the crowd.
"Where's Micah?" Zoey asked.
"Oh, I was just saying that because it looked like you needed a break from Greg and Donna," Pia said, shrugging.
"I could kiss you right now, you evil genius," Zoey said quietly, grinning.
"I mean, I've kissed you in much more crowded spots than this," Pia said, leaning forward as though she was going to take Zoey up on the offer.
"Don't you even dare," Zoey said, shaking her head.
"Your parents are delightful, by the way." Pia said with a smirk.
Zoey rolled her eyes. "I got out of Omaha the second I could. We’ve never been close, and being the biracial daughter of a perfectionist couple set us up for some... difficult moments in terms of understanding one another," she said.
"Ah, makes sense," Pia said, nodding. "Omaha does have great music, though."
"Where do you think I learned to play?" Zoey said with a raised eyebrow.
"Zoey," Sabrina called out. She noticed Pia and gave her a tight hug. "Hi. So glad you could come."
Pia looked surprised, but not offended. "Thanks," she said.
"You're needed for a cake photo op thing," Sabrina said, grabbing Zoey's arm.
"See you later?" Pia asked, her voice barely audible.
"If you're lucky," Zoey said before being pulled back into the crowd.
* * *
Zoey sat on the couch in her living room, her feet kicked up on the wall next to Freya's painting. The velvet flared pants she had worn at the party were pushed down around her hips, but she hadn't been able to get them off before landing on the couch.
She flipped through her phone. A selfie she had taken with Archer, the flight attendant from Pia’s plane, popped up in her tagged photos on Instagram with the caption, “Proud of my girl for this killer album!”
My girl? Zoey rolled her eyes, but liked it anyway and commented a heart emoji.
She had a little too much to drink at the release party, then she had received a ride back to her house. She had walked in the door, kicking off her heeled boots as she texted Pia.
Zoey: Come over?
Pia: I've never been to your house. Send me the address.
Zoey sent her the address and waited.
Pia showed up 45 minutes later and Zoey had made it to the door, but leaned against the doorway once the room started to spin.
"You made it," Zoey said, with only a very, very tiny hint of a slur.
Pia gave her one look from head to toe. "Oh, I see what's going on here," she said, laughing.
"Hell yes," Zoey said, trying her best to pull Pia inside.
"Come on," Pia said, wrapping an arm under Zoey's arms to lead her to the bedroom.
Zoey could walk perfectly well on her own — ish — but when she got to the bedroom, the only thing she wanted was to flop down on the bed. Pia helped her take off her pants and body suit — which was, in Pia's very rude opinion, "the least sexy item of clothing a woman could wear." Pia left the room and came back with a glass of water and a few pain killers, which she made Zoey take immediately.
"Okay, I think you're all set," Pia said, looking as though she was going to leave.
Zoey reached for her, a wave of panic coming over her at the thought of Pia leaving. "No, stay," she said.
Pia stared down at Zoey for a long while. "I'll stay, but you're not getting any until you sober up enough to remember it, at least," she said with a smile. "Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"
"What? No. Don't be silly. Here," Zoey said, smacking the bed next to her.
Pia took off her jeans and climbed into the bed beside Zoey. Zoey snuggled up to her. "Do you want to be the big or the little spoon? I don't mind if you want to be the little spoon. I will big spoon the hell out of you," Zoey said, wrapping an arm around her middle.
Pia laughed, running a hand through Zoey's hair. "How about I start as the big spoon and then you can feel free to switch whenever," she said.
Zoey nodded. "Very diplomatic," she said, turning onto her side to fit her back into Pia.
Pia wrapped an arm around her, and she was cocooned in warmth.
"That was such a fun party," Zoey said.
"Mmhmm," Pia murmured.
"My parents already like you," Zoey continued.
Pia was quiet for a moment. "Mmhmm," she said, conflicting emotions of warmth and fear beginning to war within her — Zoey was talking long-term...
"My mom doesn't like anything, but she likes you," Zoey said.
Pia shushed her, wrapping her other arm under Zoey's neck. "Just sleep now. Don't worry about any of that," she said.
"I'm sorry I drank a little bit."
"Don't be sorry. It was a party."
"I'm so glad you came over," Zoey said.
"Me too," Pia whispered. "Now hush and go to sleep."
* * *
Zoey awoke to the mouthwatering smell of breakfast. Something sweet... pancakes? And something savory... definitely bacon. She opened her eyes and looked around. She was in her own home, thank God.
She took stock of her hangover: she didn't feel sick to her stomach, but she had a slight headache. Overall, not as terrible as she could have been.
She reached for her phone, but it wasn't on her nightstand.
She grabbed a sweatshirt from the back of the door and walked into the great room to find the source of the delicious smells.
Pia was standing in the kitchen, wearing an apron as she danced to silent music. She didn't notice Zoey walk into the room.
Zoey leaned on the kitchen island, watching her.
Pia had adorable bedhead — that didn't seem fair — and was wearing a pair of Zoey's pajama pants and a t-shirt.
"Good morning," Zoey finally said, and Pia turned, gasping in surprise.
"Oh, damn, I wanted to bring this into you so that you wouldn't have to get up just yet," Pia said, gesturing to the pancakes and bacon.
"It's okay," Zoey said, taking a seat on a barstool so she could get a better view of her chef's ass.
Pia poured a cup of coffee. "Do you take creamer or sugar or anything?"
Zoey started to get up to get the creamer out of the fridge, but Pia held up her hands to stop her.
"I can get it if you just tell me what to get," Pia insisted.
Zoey rolled her eyes. "Just a bit of the oat milk creamer, please," she said. "I'm hungover, not helpless."
"Po-tay-to, po-tah-to," Pia said, reaching into the fridge.
"What made you want to go all Martha Stewart this morning?" Zoey said, a
ccepting the proffered mug of coffee.
"I wanted you to have a full belly and a clear mind on the first day of Kaleidoscope being out in the world," Pia said.
"What? Why? Are the reviews bad?" Zoey asked, feeling instantly panicked.
Pia shook her head with a laugh. "Not at all," she said. “I want to be the first one to congratulate you.”
Zoey smiled. “Thank you, baby.”
Pia leaned and gave her a quick kiss.
“I’d better check in with the ladies. Do you have my phone?" Zoey asked, looking around.
"It's charging over by the couch," Pia said, pointing with a spatula.
The front door swung open and a panicked-looking Domino rushed inside. "Zoey, are you ali—"
"Oh, fuck, wait, Dom," Zoey said, jumping up before realizing she wasn't wearing pants. She sat back down, tugging her sweatshirt lower on her thighs.
Domino paused, looking from Pia to Zoey and back again. Her face went through a wide range of emotions before landing on a wide grin. "I fucking knew it!"
Chapter Forty-Four
Pia
Pia turned at the sound of the door opening, startled. She held the spatula tighter as if she was — what, going to spatula-bludgeon an intruder to death?
But no, it wasn't any intruder.
It was Domino.
Fuck. Just what they needed.
She stayed in place, unsure what to say. She watched as Zoey shrank back into her seat under Domino's stare.
"Good morning, Domino," Pia said, clearing her throat. "Want some pancakes?"
Domino walked up to Zoey, her brow furrowed. "I was worried about you. We've been texting in the group chat all morning about reviews and you hadn't responded. I know you drank a little bit at the party last night, so my mind started racing and Sabrina tried to talk me out of it, but I had to come check on you," she said. She held up a key. "I used my key, even."
"I see that," Zoey said, looking at the key in her hand. "What time is it?"
"Noon," Pia chimed in, adding more pancake batter to the pan.
Domino looked from Zoey to Pia. She looked suddenly protective, her eyes narrowing for a split second before a pleasant expression came over her face. "Now, put some of those pancakes on a plate and tell me what's going on here," she said, sliding out a barstool. "And Zobo, go put on pants."
Zoey laughed, embarrassed, and walked out of the room.
As soon as Zoey left the room, Domino's mood shifted. "Is this a toaster thing?"
"Uh, no, I'm cooking on the stove," Pia said, gesturing to the stove top. She knew damn well what toaster thing Domino was referencing, but it was a bit more fun to mess with her.
"I'm serious, Pia. I like you, but I love Zoey. She's like a sister to me. My parents have basically claimed her since we were 19," Domino said, her arms crossed over her chest.
"We're just friends," Pia offered unhelpfully. She didn't know why her instinct told her to keep her guard up, but that's what was happening. Perhaps she was afraid of showing Domino emotion, knowing that Zoey would corroborate the friends story, insisting nothing personal was going on between them.
"Friends without pants," Domino said, her eyebrows raised.
"Why do I feel like I'm asking Zoey's dad permission to take her to prom right now?" Pia asked, sliding a few pancakes over the island to Domino.
"Thanks." Domino took the plate, reaching for the maple syrup. "You need my permission because Zoey is pure. She's not even gay. She doesn't date. She's driven and successful and a badass and I don't need you fucking with her feelings."
Wow, how backwards Domino had that assumption.
"Alright, alright," Zoey said as she walked back into the room. She had pulled her hair up into a ponytail and found flowy lounge pants. "Down, Domino."
Domino looked from Zoey to Pia. "Do you want to talk about this?" She asked.
"Not particularly," Zoey said, reaching for another plate of pancakes. She took one off of the plate, ripping off a bite instead of adding butter or syrup.
Pia turned to Domino. "We're just friends," she repeated.
"Sabrina and I were just friends, too," Domino said in between bites of pancakes. "These are really good, by the way."
"That's different. I'm not gay or anything," Zoey said to Domino, putting a hand on Domino's arm.
She said the words with such conviction that Pia's heart squeezed with instant disappointment.
And yet, she had to ask herself: Why? The entire reason she had jumped into bed with Zoey was that she was straight and the relationship aspect wasn't a risk.
Fuck. Freya had been so right.
Domino nearly choked on her pancakes at Zoey's statement. "Okay, first, that's not how any of this works," she said, holding up her fork. "You think I woke up one day and thought, 'Oh, I'm a giant lesbian' with conviction?"
Pia snort-laughed into her coffee mug.
Zoey looked from Domino up to Pia with an exasperated expression.
"I'm going to go," Pia said, moving the bacon onto a serving plate for the two of them.
"No, wait. Can we talk?" Zoey said, her palms flat on the island.
"Uh oh," Domino said under her breath, her gaze sliding over the bacon. "Ooh, pass that over here, Pia."
"Uh, sure," Pia said to Zoey, glancing around the room. It wasn't exactly a private space. Freya's giant painting stared back at her, mocking her for getting involved in the exact situation that Freya had warned her about.
"Come on, we can talk in my bedroom," Zoey said, standing.
"Alright, have fun with that bedroom talk. Seriously, hand me that bacon," Domino said, pointing again.
Zoey sighed loudly and grabbed the plate of bacon for Domino before walking out of the room.
Pia walked behind her, feeling distinctly as though she was in trouble.
Zoey shut the bedroom door behind her, then pulled her onto the far side of the room near the massive closet that held more clothes, shoes, and handbags than she thought possible.
"Oh, you use Sabrina's services, too?" Pia said, pointing to one of the clear bins filled with color-coordinated sweaters.
"Pia," Zoey said, her hands on her hips. "We are officially fucked."
Pia leaned against the closet door frame. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, Domino is going to tell Sabrina, and Sabrina will tell our friend Isla, and Isla has a very large mouth," Zoey said. "That's if Domino doesn't first tell Meg, who will tell Billie, who will tell Vero, who also can't keep a secret to save her life."
"That's... a lot," Pia said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I know. Which is why I'm a little upset right now," Zoey said, fussing with her hair.
"Hey," Pia said softly, reaching to take Zoey's hands in hers if only so she'd stop making her hair stand straight up — very distracting. "It's going to be okay. So, your friends know. Freya knows—"
"Freya knows?" Zoey said, her voice rising in panic.
Pia bent so that she was on Zoey's eye level. "Why does this matter so much to you?"
"Because I'm the straight one," Zoey said emphatically.
"Well, darling, clearly you are not completely straight," Pia said, lifting one of Zoey's hands to press a kiss to her palm.
"It's my thing," Zoey said, looking confused and bewildered, her forehead wrinkling.
"It's not your thing anymore," Pia said. "It's time to get a new thing."
"You don't understand," Zoey said. "Sure, the industry isn't like it was, but now I'm just a gay lady in a gay lady band."
"Sorry," Pia said, trying to hold back a smile. "You really want not being a gay lady in a gay lady band to be the hill you're prepared to die on?"
Zoey sighed in frustration. "That doesn't sound right. I just mean, I'm not ready to be publically gay."
"So, don't be publically gay until you're ready. Here's an industry-tip: Plenty of us are under the umbrella, but you'd never know it," Pia said. "I was in the spotlight for years before I came out, and i
t almost cost me my career. But here we are. That was fifteen years ago. Society has changed."
"I'm not ready for this," Zoey said, her shoulders slumping.
"What do you mean?" Pia asked, an icy cold tension stabbing somewhere in her gut.
"I'm just scared of everything changing," Zoey admitted, her voice a quiet whisper.
Pia softened again, reaching to wrap her arms around Zoey. "The band is a bit distracted at the moment. This will blow over in your friend group way sooner than you think. And we can stop... the benefits part of our friendship if that'd help."
Zoey relaxed against her and Pia felt protective and warm and terrified all at once.
"And Zoey, if this is just... a one time thing, and you were just curious, then that's fine, too," Pia said, feeling the need to give Zoey that out. That permission to take the step back if she needed.
"Let me talk to Domino, and then maybe I can call you later?" Zoey asked.
"Sure," Pia said, reluctantly letting Zoey go.
* * *
Hours later, Pia was sitting outside in her sprawling backyard with the dogs, enjoying the heat of the Southern California sun in the hills of Malibu. How could life not be perfection with everything she had? She had worked so hard for everything, and now she had it all.
Right?
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You wanted this relationship to be a casual thing," Freya said, her voice in Pia's earpiece.
Pia nearly "dropped" the call right then, but she knew Freya was right.
Cricket lay at her feet on his back, requesting more belly rubs.
"Weren't you singing her praises mere weeks ago?" Pia asked.
"I like her. But you like her in a different way, and that's not great timing," Freya said.
"What? Why?" Pia asked. She watched as Tulip tried to eat a bee. Oof, she'd regret that. "Tulip, leave it."
"Uh, hello, Elle's mother's interview? Wouldn't it look terrible for you to be newly dating some hot, young rock star and model as you're about to tell the world about your dead wife?" Freya asked, her tone suggesting that Pia was seriously stupid.