“Come on, Beatrice. Dance.” She grabbed my hands, and I tried to make more of an effort than simply swaying in place. She was simply so much fun that I couldn’t help but join her in laughing. Almost without realizing it, I’d gone from dancing near her to dancing with her, letting her lead. And following her was surprisingly easy. She twirled me, and I managed to stay upright which was a huge win.
“I think this song is growing on me.”
“Maybe this next one is more your style?” She smiled at me, stepping closer as the music switched to more of a slow jam. Still upbeat, but the sort of song that encouraged close dancing and partnering up. She was undoubtedly buzzing from her cocktails and the high of Simone’s win, and a stronger person than me would have stepped away, not leaned in. But it had been so very long since I’d danced like this—I’d never been much on the club scene, and most of my ex-girlfriends were far from party animals. Dancing with Kira felt like coming home to something I hadn’t even realized I was missing.
Our bodies brushed, moving closer almost on instinct. She was taller than me thanks to her heels, and I gazed up at her. What had I done to get so lucky? Here dancing on a perfect night with my literal dream girl. The one I’d never thought I could have. And still couldn’t, but man, could I pretend. And as we danced, I let myself do just that, pretending this was real, pretending that we’d be going home together, that we could have something lasting together.
“Should we head out?” Kira sounded as reluctant as I felt as the song came to a close and the music shifted to another oldie that was a staple of the wedding cover-band circuit. No more dancing for us.
“Yeah. Let me get my bag and coat from the table.” I did the responsible thing and nodded. Gathering up the knitting, I hoped I’d get a chance to finish our lesson someday.
“This was a magical night. Thanks for bringing me.” As we headed for the exit, Kira cast a last glance at the ballroom. “Feels like the start of something big.”
“I know.” I couldn’t have agreed more, but it took me a moment to realize that she meant politically, not something happening between her and me. My skin heated despite the crisp night air that greeted us on our walk to the parking garage.
“Come on. It’s cold.” Apparently, race-walking in heels was another of Kira’s many talents as she grabbed my hand and all but dragged me toward my car. I loved her hand in mine, her long, elegant fingers, the edge of her nails, the softness of her skin. It was a wonder that I didn’t trip, and I reluctantly had to let go to dig out my keys and unlock the car.
Turning the car heater on for both of us, I headed back toward her building. We talked about the party and the victory the whole way there, as easily as if we’d been hanging out for years instead of hours. We also made plans for me to pick her up the next day to get her stuff from the ex and then to go to the dog park with Rocket afterward. I pulled back into the parking lot for her building, returning to the space she’d indicated before.
Kira seemed in no hurry to get out, turning toward me, making our shoulders rub. “This evening was exactly what I needed. Thank you.”
She leaned in before I could reply, lips brushing my cheek. It was a sweet, friendly gesture, but it still startled me, and I jumped, but instead of away, like a sensible person, my head swiveled. Our noses bumped, earning me a stripe of her lipstick as her lips grazed my cheek.
“Oops.” She giggled and made an effort to swipe at my cheek with her thumb. Her face was still right there, inches from mine, and she smelled so good that I couldn’t help inhaling. Then, before I could exhale, she stole every last bit of my oxygen by kissing me for real. Or maybe I kissed her. I wasn’t entirely sure who moved which direction, only that we were kissing and it was glorious.
If dancing had been like coming home, this was a vacation I’d been waiting a decade for—the sort of thing you save up for but never really believe will come true. She tasted sweet, like I’d always imagined she would, and minty, like she’d popped a candy at some point after her cocktails. When I’d been fifteen, lying in my bed at night, I’d imagined kissing Kira many times, but the fantasies were always heavy on the buildup, the actual kiss a vague, glancing contact. Chaste, almost like I couldn’t imagine the perfectly put-together Kira getting hot and heavy with anyone.
Oh, how wrong I’d been. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the dancing or the excitement over the elections, but Kira kissed with an intensity that had me clutching at her arms. And far from chaste, the kiss went from accidental to deliberate seduction in only a few heartbeats. She had me fully under her spell, holding on just to see what happened next. Our tongues rubbed, electric surges travelling down my spine, heat pooling in my limbs.
We kissed for what felt like hours, but it was far, far too soon when she pulled away, breathing heavy.
“I…uh…you…we should…”
“Yeah.” My powers of speech were similarly disrupted, but I thought I got what she was saying—this was unexpected, but we should move it upstairs before we got busted making out like the teenagers we definitely weren’t anymore. “We should.”
“Totally.” She took a few deep breaths, each sexier than the last. I loved that I’d worked her up so much. “That was…I… See you tomorrow?”
“Uh?” I blinked. What? No invitation upstairs? No discussion of the kiss? Nothing other than a sheepish look as Kira let herself out of the car? What the hell? Left reeling, I rested my head against the steering wheel. It figured. Best kiss of my life and worst timing ever—of course, Kira wouldn’t invite me up. She was still in breakup mode. And even if the kiss had affected her physically, I was probably the only one building castles in the sky over it. Damn it.
7
The day after the election should have been filled with hope. My email and social media were filled with friends celebrating, and the deluge of uplifting memes should have been enough to chase out my conflicting emotions over the night before.
But nothing worked. Not distractions on the computer. Not my coffee. Not the drive to my folks to get Rocket. Nothing was enough to erase the taste of Kira from my lips, the memory of that kiss, the way I’d felt while dancing with her, the connection I’d felt talking about our work and passions. The sweetness of the knitting lesson. I kept alternating between despair that a chance had slipped through my fingers and desire that maybe we could at least have a friendship, if nothing else. To that end, I’d packed up a present of sorts for her—bulky yarn, big needles, simple pattern with pictures of stitches.
I would have done the same thing for any newbie knitter, but every action felt fraught with double meaning. Would she think I was trying too hard? Too pushy? Gah. I wanted my brain back.
“Shouldn’t you be peppier today?” My mother studied me with critical eyes as she let me in, Rocket dancing around her feet. “Or too much celebration?”
“Something like that.” I picked up Rocket. He was a terrier mix from the humane society—best the vet could figure he was a Westie mixed with a poodle, based on his smaller size and shaggy white coat.
“You have time for a coffee?” My mom gestured toward the kitchen at the rear of the house.
“Nah. Sorry. I’m picking up a…friend soon.”
“A…friend?” My mom imitated my uncertain pause. “Anyone I know?”
“Actually, yes. Kira Watts. I ran into her while in line to vote of all things.”
“Oh, I remember her. You had the biggest crush.”
“Did not,” I mumbled, hiding my face in Rocket’s fur.
“Sure you did. Too bad for you she only had eyes for overachieving young men.”
“She’s bi. Apparently. Just broke up with her girlfriend.”
“I see.” My mom’s eyes went wide. “No wonder you’re in a hurry.”
“She’s on the rebound,” I said, as much to me as Mom. “And I’m not going back to having hopeless high school crushes either. I’m past that.”
“Ha.” Mom shook her head. “You never forget
your first crush.”
“Says the woman who married hers.” Setting Rocket down, I found his leash on the key rack by the door.
“Well, yeah. We can’t all be that lucky. But I’m just saying, don’t be so fast to declare yourself immune to Kira’s charms. Old feelings have a way of rushing back.”
“Yeah,” I groaned. I wanted to tell her about the kiss, but that would only prove her point further. And I was serious. I wasn’t falling back into the crush trap. “Listen, I’ve got to get going. Thanks for watching Rocket.”
“Anytime. You know we love the grandpups.”
“Talk to Dale and Jeff about the human kind,” I warned before she could start in on me. “One of them should oblige you soon.”
“Okay, okay, off with you!” She shooed Rocket and me back toward my car, making me promise to call later. And as much as I groaned, I couldn’t help but remember Kira’s words. I was really lucky with my family. Didn’t mean that I didn’t still bristle at my mom’s mention of my old crush, but I knew I was lucky to have their support.
I headed toward Kira’s building, honestly not sure whether she’d be ready at the time we’d arranged. She’d given me her number, so I sent a text when Rocket and I parked. A big part of me expected to be turned down flat or stood up, but a cheery, I’ll be right down! reply came in a second later. She came down wearing a pink sweater and dark jeans under her same wool coat.
“Doggie!” She leaned into the backseat to pat Rocket. “He’s so cute. I should have brought you a treat!”
It took me a second to realize she meant a treat for Rocket, not me. And apparently this was how we were going to play this—pretend we hadn’t kissed. Okay. Guess that answered the question of whether she had regrets. But honestly, it was almost easier this way, greeting her like I would any other friend, neatly sidestepping any awkward conversations.
“You look great. Way to show her what she’s missing.” I gave her the same pep talk I’d give anyone else, not letting my gaze do a double-take and hoping my eyes weren’t actively trying to devour her.
“Yeah, I thought about doing pajamas again today, but then I decided that maybe I’ve moped enough.”
“That’s the right attitude.” I backed out of the space. “So Gwen-the-Terrible’s place first? Then dog park?”
“Sure. You were right. Having the dog will be an excellent excuse to leave. And it’s not a ton of stuff—I brought a backpack that should hold it all, but knowing Gwen, she probably has it all boxed up already.”
There was this weird vibe between us as I headed toward the downtown neighborhood where Gwen lived, letting Kira program the address into my GPS. We joked as she messed with the GPS and my radio stations, but it felt much more strained than the previous night, like we were both trying too hard to not mention the kiss. But I really didn’t want to be the first to bring it up.
“Heck.” Kira frowned at her phone as I stopped for a red light. “She says she’s coming home on lunch to get my keys. I was hoping I could just leave them on the counter or something.”
“Well, at least you look fabulous. And we’ll be fast.”
Finding parking in The Grove was always a challenge, and I had to park on a side street away from the brick townhouse where Gwen rented the top floor. It was a pretty, older building with curved bay windows and a partial view of the park.
“Can I bring Rocket up? If we were able to park closer, I wouldn’t mind leaving him in the car, but I’m worried…”
“I feel you. Yeah, bring him. The cat can deal.” She laughed, but it came out forced, her tension increasing with each step closer to Gwen’s building. I scooped him up as we took the stairs, figuring I’d simply hold him while Kira collected her things.
“It’ll be okay,” I said to Kira as she opened the door. “You’ve got this.”
“Thanks.”
A stunning woman opened the second-floor apartment door. Like seriously, super-model gorgeous—tall, blonde, all legs, and wearing the sort of effortless wrap dress I’d never manage to pull off. On her, it looked like a designer statement, on me it would look like I’d lost a battle with a pioneer apron.
“Kira. You brought a squad?” Gwen shook her head as she ushered us in. “And a dog? You know how I feel about those.”
“He’s a good boy.” I felt the need to defend Rocket, if not my own presence. He wiggled in my arms, probably catching sight of the huge white and orange cat on the plum-colored sofa. Kira had been right—Gwen’s place was very welcoming, all muted colors and textures and stylish details, but it had a lived-in quality that was very appealing. A knit throw was tossed over the back the couch. “You knit?”
“Me? God, no. No time for that.” She all but rolled her eyes at my question. Well, okay, then. No more trying to make nice for me.
“Beatrice is a master knitter.” Kira squeezed my arm. “And she was instrumental in getting Simone Derulo elected. We went to the best watch party last night.”
Gee, Kira, warn a girl. I totally would have worn better shoes and done something more with my hair if I’d known Kira was planning to use me to make Gwen jealous. But as it was, I schooled my expression, trying for a balance between smug and humble.
“It really was. So fun.” And I kissed your girl. More than once. I didn’t add that part, of course, but I sure as heck thought it. Hard. “We danced and danced.”
“I only have my lunch hour.” Gwen tapped an elegant pump against the polished hardwood floor. “You’ve got the keys?”
“Yeah, here you go.” Kira fished a set of keys out of her purse and held them out. “You’ve got my stuff?”
“Right here.” Gwen pointed to an open cardboard box filled with two sweaters, a skillet, some socks, a phone charger and a few other small items. Nothing that wouldn’t have kept, further cementing my dislike of her.
“Thanks.” Kira scooped it up. “I checked around my place, but I didn’t see anything of yours. But I’ll text if I find anything.”
“Do that.” Gwen pasted on a smile that made my skin itch with its blatant fakeness. “I do want to stay friends, Kira. Really. Maybe it wasn’t our time right now, but there’s no reason we can’t be adult about this.”
The our-timing-sucked line made me nauseous, but I didn’t call her on it, waiting to see how Kira responded. To me, it was a clear bid to keep Kira carrying a torch for her, hoping that maybe someday their time would be right. Bletch.
“Yeah, we can be adult.” Kira didn’t sound any too certain of that, so I stepped closer, trying to remind her that she wasn’t alone here. She gave me a grateful smile, leaning down to pet Rocket before returning her focus to Gwen. “Did you get a date yet?”
“I never should have told you about Monica.” Gwen waved her hand. “And I don’t think you get to take the high road about moving on fast.”
Kira shrugged. “No strict timeline on finding a spark.”
“Whatever. I wish you luck.” Gwen headed to the door and then held it open. “Take care.”
Dismissed, we trooped back down the stairs, Kira carrying her box while I handled Rocket. I waited until we were back on the sidewalk to talk.
“You could have told me you wanted to make Gwen jealous,” I grumbled as I set Rocket down.
“I did?” Kira sounded genuinely perplexed as we made our way to the car.
“Come on. It was so obvious. All that stuff about how I’m a great knitter and about the fun you had.” I opened the car’s back door for Rocket.
“Well, you are.” After setting the box next to Rocket, Kira slid into the passenger seat. “And I did have a great time last night. Those weren’t lies,” she said after I got behind the wheel.
“And finding a spark? What was that about?” I pulled out of the tight spot, heading back into traffic.
“Well, excuse me, but I thought we did. That was you dancing with me, right? And kissing me? Or was that simply an item on your bucket list leftover from high school—lead Kira Watts on, check.”
“Hey! I wasn’t leading anyone on.” Stopping for a red light, I glanced over at her, not surprised to see her eyes shooting daggers at me. “I loved the dancing. And the kissing. That’s not the issue.”
“Then what is? Help me out here. Are you bummed that I didn’t ask you up last night? I didn’t want you thinking that it was just the cocktails talking. Going upstairs alone felt smart. I’ve never been one to move that fast physically, and I wasn’t particularly looking for a one-night stand.”
“I wasn’t looking for one either. But, you’re on the rebound. Trying to make Gwen jealous. Not really ready to feel a spark or whatever.”
“Excellent to know that you’re back to being a mind-reader, Beatrice. Knowing what’s in my head. Great job.”
“I just mean… You can’t really want to start something with me.”
“Well, not now. Not with you thinking that all I want is to make Gwen jealous and you telling me how I’m feeling.”
Fuck. I felt something precious slip between my fingers, fall to the ground, shatter before I could even grasp it, find out what it was, but the loss made my eyes burn nonetheless.
“I’m sorry.” It was so damn inadequate, but it was all I had.
“Don’t be.” Kira’s words were clipped. “But I’m not feeling much like the dog park now. Can you drop me at my place?”
“Sure.” I had to fight to keep my eyes on the heavy city traffic, not give in to the urge to weep. How hard would it have been to ask Kira what she was feeling? To not assume? But now I’d gone and ruined everything, and hell if I knew how to get it back.
8
We didn’t talk much on the way to Kira’s building, and she jetted out of the car the moment I parked, leaving me feeling even more clueless. How did one grieve something that had never happened? I felt like I did after my last breakup—heavy stomach, burning sinuses, reeling head. But there hadn’t been anything to break up. Hell, we weren’t even really friends, didn’t have that history to fall back on.
Rogue Nights Page 9