The two of them walked side-by-side into a store, where there was a bulletin board with all kinds of announcements. Yolanda was ready to start taping up the flyers when Whitney nudged her in the ribs. “Hey, why don’t we just leave a bunch of these here? We’re still putting them all over town, but we’ll get it done ten times faster.”
Yolanda had to smile at the plan. Whitney looked like she was so proud of herself for coming up with that. It was a bit of a cheat, but it did seem reasonable. “That sounds fine to me.”
They chatted lightly as they went from one store to the next. Yolanda found herself relaxing in Whitney’s company again. Whitney was so easy to talk to. She wondered what Whitney would say if she told her that she was making her happy.
By the time they got to the third store, Yolanda felt completely comfortable walking around with Whitney. She could imagine them hanging out more often. She liked Whitney’s smile, and her seriousness. Whitney was fun, but she had a harder layer underneath.
“You’re good at this,” Yolanda said as they went to a restaurant.
Whitney set down another pile of flyers by the door, glancing up at her from the corner of her eye. “I’m not doing much.”
“Sure you are,” Yolanda said as they moved on. “You’re letting the whole town know about the wet T-shirt contest.”
“Well, you’re helping.”
“All I’m doing is walking with you.”
“You’re giving me emotional support,” Whitney joked.
Yolanda laughed, and something warm swelled inside her chest. This felt oddly like flirting—something she hadn’t done in years. It also felt better than any time she flirted with a guy. She and Truman had never had this kind of easy repartee.
Whitney’s vest flattered her figure, tapering from her curvy bust to her narrow waist and ending just above her round, toned butt. Yolanda found herself staring as Whitney walked ahead of her. She had never looked at a girl like this… or at least, she had never admitted to herself that she was looking at a girl like this.
What if Whitney were to kiss her again? Yolanda’s heart jumped at the thought, and she shivered a little. She didn’t know what she would do.
At each store they went to, the stack of flyers they set down grew bigger and bigger. Yolanda took over for a little while, putting down ten or twelve at a time. The stack decreased much faster than it had the night before, and by the time the sun was halfway down the sky, they ran out of flyers.
As they walked back to the car, Yolanda shot glances at Whitney every few seconds. It was hard to not look at her. She had that kind of face that just begged to be stared at. Yolanda fell silent as they got closer to Whitney’s Toyota.
“Well, I’m glad you came,” Whitney said, breaking the silence. “I thought I might have made things really awkward yesterday.”
“You did,” Yolanda said, almost laughing. “But it’s okay.”
“I’m glad you’re not angry. I didn’t think you’d understand why I did that.”
Yolanda stood next to the car, working up the courage to ask the question on the tip of her tongue. “Well… why did you do it?”
Whitney actually blushed. “I am so sorry. I really can’t apologize enough. I know you weren’t into it, but I wasn’t thinking about it. It just felt like a date, you know? Like we had been spending the whole evening together, and then we were sitting there as I was dropping you off, and it felt like the natural thing to do. I didn’t think twice about it.”
Yolanda nodded. “It did kind of feel like that.” Oddly similar to a date, actually—and today had felt like that, too.
She stared into Whitney’s clear blue eyes, wondering how they had both come to the same conclusion… and whether that meant something.
Sixteen
Shuffling her weight between one leg and the other, Whitney put her hand on the car door handle. She should have been ready to go, but she didn’t really feel like leaving Yolanda’s company. Yolanda made her feel all tingly inside, even if there was nothing between them.
She was seriously opening herself up to heartbreak. This could only go badly. There were a million ways for it to go wrong, and none for it to go right.
Yet when Yolanda flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and said, “I’m kind of hungry,” Whitney jumped at the chance to extend their evening.
“Do you want to grab some food? There’s still plenty of time before we have to be at the club.”
“Sure. Where do you want to go?”
The words were out before she could stop them. “Do you want to come to my place?”
Although Yolanda looked at her funny for a second, she nodded. “Sure. You’re going to cook?”
Whitney’s face heated up. “I have some food ready. I don’t want it to go bad.” She should have gone home and cooked the defrosted salmon on her own, though.
“I’d love to come over.”
As Whitney opened her car door, she wondered what exactly she thought she was doing. This was probably her worst idea ever, worse than asking Yolanda to dance, worse even than kissing her. She was letting herself in for a world of hurt.
“I’ll bring you back here after work to get your bike again,” she said, trying to get her mind off what she was doing.
“Okay, sounds good. Hey, this means I’m going to see that cute dog again. Jessie’s going to be so jealous when I tell her.”
“Valentine will be happy to see you. She’s going to need to go out by the time we get back.”
Whitney pressed the gas, and they were at her place a few minutes later. They went up to her apartment, where Valentine jumped to greet her.
“She’s excited to finally go for her walk,” Whitney said, watching with affection as Yolanda held out her hand for the dog to sniff. Valentine gave Yolanda’s hand a lick from palm to fingertip, then sat on her heels while Yolanda scratched her ears.
The two of them took Valentine out, walking at a leisurely rate and watching the dachshund trot along with them. As much time as Whitney spent with Valentine, she still appreciated how calm and well-behaved she was. And it had to mean something that she got along with Yolanda.
The dog had excellent taste in people. If she liked Yolanda, Yolanda was the real deal. Of course, Whitney already knew that. Her only problem was liking Yolanda a little too much.
When they got back from their walk, Whitney found Valentine’s favorite bone and gave it to Yolanda. “Here, you can keep her entertained. I’ll get started on dinner.”
She went into the kitchen, glad to have some space from Yolanda. If Yolanda wasn’t straight, they would’ve made a great pair. But she was, and Whitney had to stop thinking about that. What she wanted wasn’t going to happen—Yolanda had made that very clear.
Whitney listened as Yolanda talked to Valentine. “Go get it, girl! There, you have it. You really love that toy, don’t you? You can have it, I promise. Oops! It’s all the way over there now!”
Whitney could picture the dog running after the toy, fetching it, and bringing it back to Yolanda. Even without being able to see it, her heart swelled. After preheating the oven, she seasoned the salmon and deposited it in a pan. She sighed once it was in, aware that she should go out and entertain her guest. But with her surging feelings, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She needed more space from Yolanda.
Instead of going out there, she grabbed some carrots and zucchini from the fridge. She took out another pan, chopped the vegetables, and put them inside. She drizzled some oil over the top, then added salt and pepper. Her hands shook slightly as she worked. Having Yolanda so close to her was stressful.
Just as she was sliding the second pan into the oven, Yolanda appeared in the doorway. Whitney caught her breath at the sight of her. She looked so good with her hair tied back like that and her T-shirt clinging to her curves.
“What’s up?” Whitney asked, her heart beating a little faster as she looked at her.
“Nothing. Just wanted to see if I could help.”
�
�That’s fine. I’ve got everything under control. How’s Valentine?”
“I think she’s bored of me. She’s entertaining herself with that bone toy.”
“Yeah, she’s happy to play with it as long as you let her. Hey, thanks for keeping her company. She really seems to get along with you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Yolanda said, coming closer. “It was my pleasure, a hundred percent. That dog is a sweetheart.”
Yolanda was a little too close to Whitney, and Whitney wondered why she was standing there. Hope rose within her as Yolanda came nearer still, but fell again as she brushed past.
“I’ll put some plates on the table,” Yolanda said. “Just tell me where they are.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Whitney said. “I’ve got everything under control. Just go and play with Valentine, or do whatever you want.”
Yolanda opened one cupboard, shaking her head. Whitney stared at her back, hypnotized by the movement of the long ponytail waving down her back.
“Only pots and pans in here,” Yolanda commented. “I wonder where you keep the plates.”
“It’s fine. You don’t have to do anything, just sit down.” Whitney wasn’t going to let her go to so much effort while she was a guest in her home.
But Yolanda didn’t stop. She was too set on helping. She went to another cupboard, finding glasses inside. “I found something,” she said cheerfully. “Do you want water?”
“All right, you can pour us some water, but then you’re sitting down.”
Yolanda filled two glasses with water. She set one on the table and leaned with one hand on the chair while she took a long drink of the other, then went back to the sink to refill it. “You know, it’s okay to let me help. I want to help.”
“Yes, but you don’t need to,” Whitney insisted.
“I’m guessing you keep the cutlery in here,” Yolanda said, setting down her glass and opening still another drawer. She grabbed forks and knives, and Whitney gave her a shrug.
“Fine, you found the cutlery.”
Instead of closing the drawer, Yolanda pulled it further open. She stared in, her attention caught by something Whitney couldn’t see. Her brow furrowed, and she looked suddenly serious.
“What is it?” Whitney asked.
“Sorry. It’s none of my business,” Yolanda said, sliding the drawer partway shut.
“What?” Whitney couldn’t remember what would be in there.
“Nothing. I just…” Yolanda opened the drawer again, just enough to pull out a heart-shaped medal with the golden profile of George Washington in the center. Purple fabric dangled from it. “I don’t know much about the military, but is this a Purple Heart?”
“Oh, that’s nothing,” Whitney said, crossing the room in a few strides. She took the medal out of Yolanda’s hand and shoved it back into the drawer again, where it belonged. “I forgot that was even in there. I don’t need to see it.”
She didn’t need to be reminded of her greatest shame.
“I didn’t realize you were injured during your service,” Yolanda said. “You seem fine.”
“I don’t really like to talk about it,” Whitney said.
Yolanda looked at her with evident confusion. She was so innocent, unable to figure out why someone might not want to talk about the injury that brought her home.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to,” Yolanda said, taking one last look at the medal as Whitney slammed the drawer closed. “I was just curious. I know you’ve been through things I couldn’t even imagine.”
“Forget about it,” Whitney said softly. “I don’t like to even think about it.”
“Okay, yeah,” Yolanda said, her face suddenly completely serious. “Sorry for pushing. I know these things can be sensitive.”
Did she know? Probably not. How could she? She hadn’t been through what Whitney had been through.
Whitney tried to smile. “We have to stop apologizing to each other every two minutes. It seems like we have a bad habit of that.”
“I’m sorry I keep apologizing,” Yolanda said, then immediately laughed. “Sorry for doing it again.”
“No problem. I’d apologize less if I didn’t keep pissing you off.”
“You haven’t pissed me off lately,” Yolanda said, her lips turning slightly up.
“Not even last night?”
Whitney bit her tongue as soon as the words were out. She knew fully well that she had no chance with Yolanda, so why did she keep trying? Yolanda was never going to tell her what she wanted to hear.
But Yolanda didn’t get angry with Whitney for the question. She didn’t even take on the expression of confusion and disgust that had terrified Whitney so much at the gay club. All she said was, “You didn’t piss me off.”
Turning away from her, Whitney pulled the two pans out of the oven. The smell wafted up at her, and she heard Yolanda inhale deeply as well. Her words were impossible to interpret. Did she not mind because she was okay with Whitney having feelings for her? Or was there a tiny chance that she meant she returned those feelings?
“I knew you were going to be a good cook,” Yolanda said. “Now are you going to tell me where the plates are?”
“No way,” Whitney said, quickly opening the right cupboard and depositing two plates on the table. “Maybe you can do the dishes after supper if you want to help so badly.”
“Hey, I didn’t say anything about being willing to do dishes. That’s a whole other matter,” Yolanda said, a playful note in her voice.
They sat down and Whitney served each of them, wondering when they had become close enough to joke around together. The dynamic between them felt completely different than it had just a few days ago. She liked it this way. Yolanda was pretty cool under her standoffish exterior. Whitney could get used to hanging out and joking around with her.
As soon as Yolanda tasted the salmon, she made a noise of approval. “This is amazing. What did you do to it?”
“Just glazed it with some blueberry vinaigrette,” Whitney said.
“You make it sound so easy. Are you sure you’re in the right career? Maybe you should be a cook instead.”
“Thanks,” Whitney said, flattered. “I think I do okay as a bartender too, though.”
“Definitely,” Yolanda said. “The way you serve those drinks is crazy.”
“Well, you’re a pretty good DJ,” Whitney said. “I like it when you hype up the crowd.”
“It feels a little awkward sometimes,” Yolanda said. “Talking about how sexy everyone in the club is…” She trailed off.
Whitney finished the sentence for her. “Because you’re straight.”
“Right,” Yolanda said softly.
They gave each other a quick smile, and then Whitney stuffed her mouth with a big forkful of vegetables. She chewed, staring at her plate until the moment passed. She could enjoy Yolanda’s company platonically. No problem.
As she sipped her water, Valentine ran in, chasing something neither of them could see. She ran around the room as fast as she could on her stubby legs. She ended up lying on the floor at Whitney’s side.
It felt so natural to be with the two of them. If Whitney let herself, she could imagine them having many nights like this. She enjoyed Yolanda’s company. It would have been all too easy to fantasize about the two of them being together.
But Yolanda wasn’t into her like that. She looked across the table at her, staring into her eyes. She could dream all she wanted that she saw some attraction there, but she knew it wasn’t true.
Even if her wildest fantasies came true and Yolanda did happen to be into her, it would never work anyway.
Whitney would never open up to anyone again. Not even someone like Yolanda.
Seventeen
Yolanda put down her fork and finished the last bite on her plate. The food was amazing, but the company was even better. Whitney was such a cool girl, and she seemed to like Yolanda as well. The awkwardness
between them had dissipated, or at least lessened.
She still wondered why Whitney made her want to reconsider her orientation. In her entire life, she had never come this close to believing what other people said about her.
“That was fantastic,” she said, picking up her plate.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Whitney said. “Now, put that down. I was just joking about you washing the dishes.”
“No, that’s fine. I’m going to wash them.”
“You are not. Sit down and let me do it.”
Whitney looked far too enticing when she spoke to Yolanda like that. She was stubborn, almost verging on angry. She was so insistent on not having Yolanda help out in her home.
Her eyes were burning, and her expression was completely serious. She jumped up as soon as Yolanda got up.
“Put it down,” Whitney said.
Whitney’s hand touched Yolanda’s arm, and Yolanda’s skin sizzled with the heat. She stared at her skin, almost expecting to see a red imprint. Was this what it meant to be attracted to somebody? Because she felt like going to Whitney’s side and never leaving her.
She didn’t want to tear Whitney’s clothes off or have sex with her right now but she could imagine kissing her again. She quivered as she thought about that unexpected kiss they had shared. For all that she could say she was straight, the way she wished Whitney would step over here and do it again said otherwise.
She let Whitney push her hand away, although she kept the plate in her other hand. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She couldn’t take her eyes off Whitney. Her face was so hard to resist. Whitney had the look of a female soldier, but with a certain softness underneath.
Yolanda longed to touch her. Just to trail her fingers down her arm would have been everything she could have asked for. However she wanted to label herself, she was quickly losing the ability to deny she was attracted to Whitney.
“Down,” Whitney said again. Her voice was insistent.
Slowly, Yolanda set the plate down on the table. She just wanted Whitney to touch her again. How could she make her do that? She needed to feel that heat again. She started to care less and less what gender Whitney was. Being here with her alone, it didn’t seem to matter.
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