“It’s hard to choose,” Rae said at last. Which was actually true. Boys all looked the same. If they weren’t in her class, it was sometimes almost hard to tell them apart. Not girls, though—girls were all unique. It was kind of weird. “I want to say…both of them?”
“I agree.” Kaoli fanned herself, excited by hotness Rae couldn’t see.
Relief rushed oxygen to her brain. She’d gotten it right.
But Kaoli had known it wasn’t the whole truth, after all. She’d known what Rae was.
And Rae’s older and wiser self was done deluding herself. Kaoli didn’t love her. She didn’t know what exactly Kaoli did want, but it wasn’t love, and Rae didn’t want anything less. Not from Kaoli; not from anyone. Sex meant something to Rae. It wasn’t casual. It wasn’t something she did with someone she didn’t even like. Her body might disagree—certainly her fingers seemed to disagree, the way they were stroking Kaoli’s hand—but her body wasn’t in charge here. Her brain was in charge. And her brain was reminding her that she had a long-standing policy—thanks to Kaoli herself—never, ever to date anyone who was in the process of exploring, discovering, or deciding on her sexuality.
“I’m not doing this.”
“You know you want to,” Kaoli purred. “You want to know what it would be like. You want to know as much as I do.”
No, thanks. Rae was not falling for another kiss-and-run.
But those lips…
She’d always thought those lips looked kissable—and they were. She’d always wondered, if that mouth-to-mouth encounter in the Morgenroths’ den had gone deeper, how she’d taste. What would it hurt to find out? Just one little kiss. She didn’t have to sleep with her, but God, would that be vindication. Sleeping with Kaoli after all those years of resentment. Finally. Revenge. She would definitely consider revenge sex.
No, she wouldn’t.
“Come on, Rae. Say yes.”
Kaoli Morgenroth wanted to sleep with her. Why would she say no to that?
“I—” Her phone rang. “I should get that.”
She sprang for the phone, which lay a few feet away on the countertop in the kitchenette. Her body wasn’t ready for the sudden move, and she found herself hopping on one leg to keep her bad leg off the floor. “Sierra. What’s up?”
She glanced back at Kaoli, who slouched in her chair and pouted. Rae cringed. She shouldn’t have acted so relieved at the interruption. She shouldn’t have felt so relieved.
“I’ll get more wine,” Kaoli said, walking toward the door and letting herself out without waiting for a reply. She didn’t look happy.
“Rumor has it you were seen in the restaurant with a hot babe,” Sierra said. “Please tell me you didn’t pick up the phone if she’s with you right now.”
“She’s not with me right now. She’s on her way down to the bar for an unnecessary refill on alcohol.”
“Oh my God, you really are on a date. I’ll call you tomorrow. I didn’t expect you to pick up. I was going to leave an annoying message.”
“No, it’s okay. Really.” She could use a voice of reason right about now.
“Tell me the instant she gets back and I’ll hang up.”
Sierra was way too excited about this.
“It’s not a date.” Except it kind of was a date. It hadn’t started out that way, but… “Okay, we might be in date territory at this point.”
Might? It had always been like this with Kaoli—so hard to pin down and label.
“Ooooooh. Who is it?”
“My boss.”
“Oh.” Sierra’s voice fell flat. Had she been expecting it to be someone else? “I thought…” Her enthusiasm disappeared, replaced by caution. She cleared her throat. “I thought you said the rumors about you two dating weren’t true. Besides, she’s straight. I mean, your sister always said Kaoli was straight. I assumed she still was.”
“So did I.”
“What changed?”
“I’m starting to think maybe she’s not that straight.”
“Maybe she’s not that straight?” Sierra echoed, a note of incredulity creeping into her voice.
A muted female voice in the background said, “Uh oh.” Had to be Melanie, overhearing.
Sierra wasn’t done. “Doesn’t she have a boyfriend? What makes you think she’s not that straight?”
“Most straight women don’t tell me they think everyone is bi.”
Sierra gave a snort of disgust. “Me neither.”
“I’m trying not to take it too seriously, because the only reason she wants to jump me is I’m probably the only lesbian she knows.”
“Wait. How did we get from not that straight to jumping you?”
Rae heard a whistle of encouragement in the background from Melanie. She wouldn’t be so excited when she found out who they were talking about.
“She’s exploring her options,” Rae said.
“Are you going to be one of the options?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
If Kaoli really was working through stuff? If she was seriously reconsidering her sexuality and was prepared to break off her engagement to Griffin? Then she deserved a chance. It wasn’t a moral failing to be confused, no matter what age she was. It was scary and important.
But chances were, Kaoli was just screwing with her. Whether Rae was willing to be screwed was the question she had to figure out. Fast.
“And doesn’t she have hundreds of lesbian fans who proposition her at her concerts? I mean, come on, Rae, you’re not the only one who could help her with this little issue of hers.”
Kaoli’s powerful voice soared from down the hall. “Won’t be watching the time, ’cause time don’t mean nothin’…” She wasn’t singing at full volume, but she was going to piss off everyone asleep on this floor of the lodge no matter how impressively on-key she was. “Time don’t mean nothin’ to a goddess, ooh, goddess, yeah, goddess…” There was a knock on the door.
“She’s back,” Rae told Sierra. “Gotta go.”
She put down her phone and opened the door. Kaoli stood holding two glasses of red wine, her weight thrust onto one hip in a pose that Rae wished Jori was here to see so she could explain her strongly held opinion on how wrong it was to stand like that.
“Goddess, yeah, goddess…” Kaoli came in, still singing her brilliantly confusing song. No one could figure out if the lover in the song was a man or a woman, and Kaoli wasn’t saying.
Rae let the heavy door swing shut behind her and turned the lock. Suddenly Kaoli was crowding her against the door, wineglasses sloshing dangerously.
“Miss me?” Kaoli said.
Before Rae could answer, Kaoli’s lips met hers. No buildup, no warning, no nothing. And for one reckless moment, Rae kissed her back, unable to do what she needed to do, which was pull the fuck away. Because instead of lust and vindication and half a lifetime of pent-up desire, what bubbled up was rage. How dare Kaoli try to kiss her now? She should have done it years ago, when it would have meant something, when it would have mattered.
Rae jerked away from Kaoli’s kiss.
“Wow, that’s embarrassing,” Kaoli said, laughing, waving the wineglasses around and raising both hands in surrender, as if overplaying it would help her save face. “You don’t want to…” She laughed again, shook her head in disbelief. “Wow.”
“I don’t.”
Which was, surprisingly, a relief. If Kaoli hadn’t forced the issue, Rae might have stayed stuck in the past forever, thinking she was over her but always wondering what might have been.
She didn’t want her.
She could have kissed Kaoli for that, for freeing her.
Better not, though. Kaoli wouldn’t understand. She’d probably never received a thank-you-for-trying-to-make-out-with-me-and-making-me-realize-I-don’t-�
�want-you kiss. A now-I-can-go-on-with-my-life kiss. A what-did-I-ever-see-in-you kiss.
She also really didn’t want to touch her wet lips again. They were kind of revolting.
“What happened?” Kaoli asked. “Did I scare you off?”
Rae bristled. “You scared me off in high school,” she said. “You flirted with me relentlessly and never followed through. I wanted you, and you didn’t want me, and I’m sorry, but I’m not going to forget that just because you finally changed your mind.”
“Ouch. Can we tone down the excruciating honesty thing?”
“I don’t know if I can.”
Kaoli sighed as she finally set the glasses down. “You always were big on honesty.”
She was? When? When she lied about being good at trig so she could tutor her? When she swore it was an accident that her thigh touched Kaoli’s on her parents’ couch under the chenille throw? When she pretended not to be in love with her?
“You were such a stickler about not letting me cheat on my homework,” Kaoli said.
Oh. That.
“It was annoying,” Kaoli said.
“I was helping you.” And trying to get her to fall in love with her. Which Kaoli damn well knew. “At least I wasn’t a tease.”
“We can still do this, Rae. Just one night.” Kaoli smoothed her own hair and stroked down her neck suggestively. “One beautiful night. No strings. I want to make up for what I did to you. Give you what you wanted.”
Amazing how Kaoli kept turning this around, kept acting like Rae should be able to forgive her for what she’d done.
But Rae had had enough. “I’m not sleeping with you, Kaoli. Go play your games with someone else.”
“Games?”
Really? “You’re getting married. I don’t want to have an affair.”
“You know what? I don’t either.” Her eyes softened in that way that had always gotten to Rae, that way that made her think Kaoli loved her. Only now she knew better. Kaoli pursed her lips in the shape of a kiss and actually managed to look wistful. “I prefer to think of you as an adventure. So what do you say? Are you feeling adventurous?”
Was that what this was about? The thrill of getting away with breaking the rules? Well, newsflash, Rae didn’t believe in those rules—rules that said sleeping with a woman was not okay.
“I’m not adventurous.” Rae gave her a disgusted look. “I’m gay.”
Kaoli pouted. “You’re not seriously going to turn me down, are you?”
Rae held her gaze, silently daring her to ask again.
“There’s nothing wrong with wondering what it would be like,” Kaoli said. “With being curious.”
Rae said nothing.
“Aren’t you even a little bit curious?” Kaoli said. “I am.”
“I’m not.”
Rae knew what she wanted. And it was not Kaoli.
Chapter Ten
Axel was late. Pairs of adults who had given up a Friday night at the movies to learn to dance were spread throughout the low-ceilinged basement studio of Sassafras Dance, their bored chitchat a babble of background noise bouncing off the mirrored walls and competing with muted Big Band music coming from the studio above. But no Axel. He had ordered Jori to attend four weeks of ballroom dance classes with him to master the basics in time for his cousin’s wedding, and now he couldn’t bother to show?
She’d give him ten minutes. If by then he hadn’t arrived, she’d leave and find something better to do with her precious hour that Baylee was at the sitter’s.
That was fair, wasn’t it? If she didn’t believe in keeping her word, and if the wedding weren’t such a great opportunity for Baylee to see the cousins and aunts and uncles she’d never met, Jori wouldn’t be doing this at all. Because what could Axel do? Go back to their professor and say he’d lied about her being innocent? A stunt like that would get him in trouble, and Axel was too smart to do that to himself.
A middle-aged woman wearing skimpy white shorts, a glittery gold wrap top, and matching gold heels a drag queen would love glided purposefully toward the corner that housed the sound system, where she deposited a clipboard and her purse on a shelf. The chatter died down and the students clustered around her. Jori hung back from the group, contemplating her escape. She was the only one wearing denim cutoffs, and that might be a sign she didn’t belong here, no matter how beginner level this thing was supposed to be.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Marcella,” said the woman in the gold heels, turning to face the class. “Alicia had her baby yesterday so I’ll be stepping in as your instructor for the next few weeks. She tells me this class is how to dance at your wedding. Foxtrot, waltz, a little Latin. Is that what everyone’s here for?”
The students all nodded. Jori had forgotten the class had a theme. Not Axel’s mother’s idea of a hint, she hoped.
“Everyone’s getting married?”
There was a murmur of agreement. Several of the couples nervously edged closer to each other.
Marcella looked around the room, nodding her head as she counted how many students she had. “Raise your hand if you’re an even pair.”
Everyone’s hand went up except for Jori’s. As if it weren’t already glaringly obvious that she was alone.
Marcella nodded at her. “You’ll dance with me.”
“I signed up with a friend,” Jori felt compelled to explain, “but he’s late.” Either late or a no-show who would live to regret it. He had eight minutes to prove which one it was.
The clatter of heels sounded outside the room, followed by a second person’s quieter, less hurried gait. The non-heel-wearer did not sound like Axel, who now had seven minutes. At six minutes and fifty-five seconds, a student in a skintight top and a flippy dance skirt rushed in.
Many seconds later, the other person arrived, and it was not this woman’s boyfriend—it was Rae. A simple white blouse knotted beneath her bust and ass-hugging black stretch pants made her look like the dancer she was. And no crutches—wow. And no brace? Rae was making unbelievable progress. She devoted herself to her rehab exercises with more dedication than anyone Jori had ever seen, but wow. There was no way a knee brace could be hidden under those tight pants, right? Because she walked without any sign of a limp. There did seem to be more hip swiveling involved than in a normal gait—very relaxed, very sensual—but if she hadn’t known, she’d never have guessed Rae was injured, or that her slow, deliberate, sexy pace was masking caution.
Jori grinned and waved like she hadn’t seen her in weeks and then felt stupid because maybe Rae wouldn’t be as excited as Jori was to see a familiar face. Rae raised a hand in acknowledgement and then ignored her to remove her sneakers and change into heels. Heels? The woman was either trying to prove something or had no fear.
“Two extra women,” Marcella told the new arrivals. “As usual, we’re short on men, so you’ll have to learn without a partner.”
“I want to learn both parts,” Rae said, testing her heels with an unselfconscious swivel in place. Unlike most of the students, who had hesitated at the door, unsure of where to go or what to do, she radiated self-confidence. Dance studios were her natural habitat, and her energy filled the room. “I can lead.”
“Why?” Marcella said.
“Why not?” Rae said.
“What are you doing here?” Jori hissed across the room.
“Fine. Dance with her.” Marcella pointed at Flippy Skirt, completely ignoring the obvious signs that Rae and Jori knew each other.
Okay, so Marcella had already claimed Jori as her partner, but still. Not that Jori couldn’t have ditched Marcella and run over to claim Rae without an invitation, but what if Rae didn’t want to dance with her? She had a girlfriend. She wasn’t dying to hold Jori in her arms.
Marcella turned her back on them both. “Now we start,” she told the class.
/> Marcella was ten minutes into explaining the foxtrot before Jori remembered that she’d been planning to leave. With Rae there, she didn’t feel like leaving anymore. And it would feel good to be better at the foxtrot than Axel.
Marcella’s procedure was they learned a step, practiced it to music with all the couples arranged in a circle, and then everyone switched partners. This was, Marcella informed them, so that couples wouldn’t adapt to each other’s mistakes and learn bad habits. The about-to-be-married couples grumbled about it and one woman even looked like she might refuse, but Jori loved the idea because it meant she had a chance of ending up with Rae without making it look like she didn’t respect her unhealthy relationship with her girlfriend. A few rounds in, when the music sounded like it was coming to an end, Jori dragged the guy she was dancing with halfway across the room and parked herself beside Rae. Now all she had to do was wait for the instructor to announce, just as she had each time before, that it was time for the ladies to move down the circle counterclockwise to their next partner, and Jori would walk straight into Rae’s arms.
“Gentlemen stay where you are,” Marcella said.
Counterclockwise, counterclockwise, counterclockwise, Jori reminded herself, her thoughts stuck in a whirling loop of anticipation.
“Ladies move…uh…let’s see…clockwise to the next gentleman.”
Wait…what? Clockwise? Jori had already started to take a step toward Rae. With the sudden change in direction she lost her balance and her foot landed with an abrupt, unexpected thump. Why would Marcella choose now to forget which way they were going?
As everyone took their new places, Rae, as a “gentleman”, was stuck where she was, while Jori, as a “lady”, had to change course and head in the wrong direction, away from her. They weren’t supposed to go clockwise. The instructor wasn’t supposed to pick a new direction; she was supposed to have a predictable system and stick with it so everyone got a chance to rotate through and dance with everyone else. And so Jori could game the system. Next time she was positioning herself on Rae’s other side and working on her telepathic coercion skills to make Marcella pick the direction she wanted.
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