“Then, she’ll see that. She’ll probably feel it, too.” She took another drink while Joanna stood.
“I hope so.”
“And look, it’s been a while for me, so if it’s good, please give me the details so I can live vicariously.”
◆◆◆
Joanna arrived home around midnight, and she was ready to crash, but there was one more thing she needed to do for herself before she went to sleep.
CHAPTER 16
Greene had an interesting first few days in Boston. It had been strange: being back there after all this time. She’d taken the train with Gail, because she was sick of flying. She’d taken the T a lot in Boston, because she hadn’t had a car and she’d enjoyed it most of the time. She’d taken the trains to and from New York and Rhode Island a few times while she’d lived there and liked that she could relax while someone else was in control of the trip. Since moving into San Francisco proper, she’d rarely taken BART, because her world was really just a few blocks. She could walk to work when the weather was nice, which it often was, and she could walk to the few bars her group frequented. She could get to Keira and Emma’s by foot, along with Hillary’s place. Though she was rarely there these days. Most important to her now was Joanna’s place. She could easily walk there, even while carrying her laundry. Her world had been rocked recently with this trip. She’d enjoyed almost all of it. What she didn’t enjoy was the time away from Joanna.
She’d spent her first day in Boston just getting settled in and checking out the old hall she’d played in hundreds of times. The next day, she’d gone on a short sightseeing trip to visit a few of her old haunts. She’d had a late afternoon rehearsal and then met up with a few old friends that night. The third day of the trip had her back on campus, talking to current students and advising as she could. She found that she really enjoyed that work and considered maybe getting more involved with her alma mater from home if she could or, perhaps, partnering with a university in the city if any of them were interested. Most importantly, though, Greene felt that her playing had improved. By traveling and working with these different people and hearing their music, she’d improved her own. She’d been surprised to find how good it felt to truly let go when she was on stage. She had Joanna and their growing connection to thank for that.
Greene had always lacked confidence, despite being called a prodigy and one of the best in the world. Her preference had always been to sit in the back and play whenever she could get away with it. She soloed when asked but never suggested or asked for one herself and only followed the notes when she delivered it. Technically, she’d played in front of her parents as a youth, but not really in front of them. They’d hear her in her room as she practiced, but she never performed for them. She never did the recitals the normal young musicians deliver to demonstrate her skill, because her teachers could see the skill and Greene had no desire to perform by herself in front of small groups of parents like that. Her teachers chalked it up to stage fright which she’d eventually grow out of, so they didn’t press.
When she moved on in her playing career, she knew it wasn’t stage fright; she could play in front of thousands. It wasn’t that. She’d always preferred to be in the back. She suspected there was an initial cause for this behavior. It could have been her first actual violin teacher that told her she slouched when she played. She was three and didn’t know what that word meant. It might have been when her second teacher told her she was playing her age and she expected more from her. She’d been four then. It also might have been when her mother opened her bedroom door when she was six, to find her watching TV instead of practicing, and told her she shouldn’t be lazy. If she was going to keep ahead of all the other students, she needed to practice every single night. There wasn’t time for TV back then. Her mother had closed the door after Greene had picked up her instrument. Five minutes later, she’d knocked loudly and, through the door, yelled that Greene was off-tempo.
By the third night in Boston, Greene was ready to show her old school that she still had the stuff. She played the three pieces they’d arranged for her at her old hall. They played a few pieces with the school orchestra, and it felt, in a strange way, like home to her. She knew none of the musicians she was playing with by name, but it felt good all the same. When the performance finished, she received her accolades and even some long-stemmed roses. She’d given them to Gail to give to a pretty girl she’d spotted in the woodwind section, and then headed out the back to get to her hotel and call Joanna. They hadn’t spoken that morning due to Greene’s schedule, and she’d missed her already.
“You’ve turned me down for an autograph once; I’m kind of hoping you won’t again.”
Greene turned around on the street and immediately relaxed into a smile.
“You can have all the autographs you want,” she said to Joanna in response. “What are you doing here?” she asked after she took the woman in.
Joanna was wearing a black dress with matching heels, making her a little taller than usual. Her hair was pulled back into one of those wrap-around braids. She held a single red rose in both hands in front of her body. And she looked more beautiful to Greene than all those beautiful cities she’d just visited, combined.
“I flew out this morning. Got here just in time to see you out there.” Joanna motioned with her thumb to the hall and then moved it back to hold the rose in front of herself.
Joanna was nervous. Greene could sense it even from ten feet away. She didn’t know what to do. In all her fantasies of the next time they saw one another, it was never on a public street in Boston. They were all at Joanna’s place, because Greene knew she would go straight there from the airport, not bothering to stop at her own apartment first.
This was different, though. Joanna stood ten feet away from her as people moved around them on a city street. She didn’t know what to do; she didn’t know if Joanna would want to kiss her in public like this. They hadn’t exactly discussed her opinion of public displays of affection.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said out of her own nervousness.
“Are you going to come closer to me, or are we staying this far apart for my entire trip?” Joanna asked with a small laugh.
“How long is this trip?” Greene asked and took a few tentative steps toward her.
“Well, today is Friday,” Joanna took a few steps toward Greene, pulling a small roller behind her, then continued, “and tomorrow is Saturday.”
“I know the days of the week, Jo.” She laughed.
“I’m here until Sunday. My flight is at four. I have a job on Monday, or else I’d stay longer.”
“So, I have you for two days?”
“You have me for longer than that, but I’m here for two days.” She smiled as Greene stood a foot from her. “This is for you, superstar.”
“Thank you.” Greene took the rose from her and brought it to her nose to sniff it. “Where are you staying?” she asked – again, out of nerves.
Joanna laughed wildly at that and turned Greene around to face the direction she’d originally been walking to.
“Where am I staying?” Her laugh quieted. “I didn’t book a hotel, so if I’m not staying with you… I guess I’m on the streets.”
Greene smiled as Joanna took her free hand and stood beside her. Joanna used her other hand to grip her bag handle.
“With me, huh?”
“Yes, with you, Macon.” Joanna’s head went to her shoulder.
Greene reveled in the feel of her closeness and her ability to express herself like this in public after all.
“I was going to grab something to eat before heading back. I didn’t have dinner,” Greene explained. “Any chance you want to hit up one of my old favorite places before we go back?”
“I haven’t eaten all day. I skipped breakfast because of the early flight. And then my layover was supposed to be two hours, but we were delayed because the fog wouldn’t allow us to land. I barely made my connection. I
came here straight after.”
“Good. Dinner’s on me.” Greene tossed her a smile, shifting her violin case over her shoulder. She took the rose Joanna had given her and slid it into the top compartment of the woman’s bag. Then, she took the handle of the roller from Joanna, shifted it to the side where her shoulder was already bearing the violin, and held out her free hand. Joanna lifted her head off Greene’s shoulder to watch. “I missed you,” Greene admitted softly.
“I missed you. Why do you think I flew across the country to see you when you’re coming home in a week and a half?” Joanna’s head went back to Greene’s shoulder, and they walked on.
◆◆◆
Joanna hadn’t ever held hands with a woman while walking down a street. She definitely hadn’t rested her head on a woman’s shoulder while she walked down a street. But, God, it felt good to see Macon again. It was too good to not be touching her in as many ways as possible.
Their meeting had been awkward. She thought that maybe she shouldn’t have approached Macon outside. She knew the hotel she’d been staying at; she could have just met Macon there. But she’d watched her perform, and she could swear she’d fallen more in love with this woman. Macon was somehow even better than that night she’d watched her play Somewhere. She’d been gorgeous on that stage and was now even more so, as they walked in silence down the street.
“This is weird, huh?” Joanna finally said after a few blocks.
Macon only laughed and squeezed her hand.
“Yes, it’s weird,” she agreed. “It’s you, so it’s not weird. But… it’s you, so it is weird.”
“That makes no sense.” Joanna lifted her head and glanced at Macon.
“Here it is.” Macon pointed at the restaurant they were now next to. “It’s a local place, not a chain. Back when I was still in college, I found it when I needed a break from rehearsal one night.” She motioned for Joanna to walk inside, which Joanna did, pulling Macon along with her. “I know how much you like Mexican food.”
“I do.” She smiled at Macon as they made their way into the waiting area of the seemingly small restaurant.
It was decorated in the typical Mexican restaurant garb and flare. There were four chairs against the wall that were occupied by waiting patrons. Joanna, with Macon’s hand still in her own, stood next to her, wondering where they were going to sit and wait for their table in the crowded ten-table restaurant.
“Hi, Marcia,” Macon greeted the older, rotund woman, who approached from one of the tables.
“Verde,” the woman exclaimed and moved to Macon.
Macon let go of both Joanna’s hand and the bag as the woman engulfed her in a hug, letting her go moments later.
“It’s nice to see you again, too.” Macon laughed. “Marcia, this is my friend, Joanna.”
“Hola, Joanna.” Marcia nodded with a sweet smile in Joanna’s direction. “Give me two minutes; I’ll clean a table for you.”
“No hurry. We can wait if–”
“No, no. You won’t wait. One minute.” She headed back into the restaurant.
“You’re a regular.”
“I was a regular, yes.” She turned to face Joanna. “I came back after that first time and met Marcia. Her family owns the place. She’s great, and the food is great. She used to let me occupy a table all night if I needed some time away from everything.”
“That’s nice of her.”
Macon smiled at her, and Joanna’s world was suddenly all about that smile. She’d never thought that about a man’s smile before. She somehow knew Macon’s smile was about her and for her; for only her. She smiled back and hoped that hers conveyed the same emotion until the exuberant Marcia returned and sat them at a small two-person table, helping roll Joanna’s bag until it was against the wall behind her along with Macon’s violin case. Before they could even sit, a server placed a bowl of chips and salsa on the table, and another one brought them two glasses of water. Macon sat down across from her. Joanna instantly grabbed for the water, not caring for her sudden case of dry mouth at seeing the woman for the first time in almost two months.
“So, can I just start by saying I’m sorry?” Macon asked.
“Sorry?” Joanna suddenly felt nervous, and the water had done nothing to eliminate her dry mouth.
“I know we’ve talked a lot since then, but I want to apologize in person for how I acted that night and before I left. I should have just trusted you. I let my fear get the better of me, and I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Make. We’re good on that. I understand. Part of me wishes you wouldn’t have left because I missed you like crazy. I don’t just mean because of the obvious. I mean because I got so used to having you around. Most of my plans outside of work involved you; even some of my work plans involved you. It felt like my arm was missing or something.” She paused as Macon laughed and took a chip. “But, at the end of the day, I’m so glad you went. Honey, you are so talented. God, I thought you were good that night at your apartment. But you’re even better now. I’m not exactly sure how that’s possible.”
“Thank you.” Macon smiled at her and ate the chip sans salsa.
There was a moment of companionable silence. Then, the waiter returned to take their orders. Joanna hadn’t even looked at the menu and just motioned for Macon to suggest something. She ordered for them both, and the waiter left to grab their drinks first.
“I’m glad I went, too,” Macon finally acknowledged.
“Yeah?”
Their beers arrived. Macon had ordered them both a Corona with lime, and Joanna shoved her lime into the yellow liquid, following Macon’s lead.
“I feel like I needed to go for myself: to have this experience. But I also kind of feel like it worked out for us.”
“It did?” She gave Macon a one-sided smile and a lifted eyebrow.
“We’ve talked a lot, Jo. I mean, we’ve always talked a lot, but… this time, we talked about us and what we could be. And because I wasn’t here, we didn’t have the physical part to – I don’t know – get in the way of all that.”
“Get in the way?”
“You know what I mean.” Macon laughed.
“So, you think you and me being in the same place would have created some physical situations that would have–”
“We wouldn’t have stopped having sex, Jo,” Macon interrupted her and gave her a wicked grin. God, it was a hot, wicked grin. “Right now, I’m having a hard time not touching you.”
“Then, why aren’t you?” Joanna tossed back to her and tried to meet that grin with a wicked one of her own.
“Fuck, Jo. You can’t say stuff like that here.” She laughed and took a long drink of her beer.
“Why are we eating dinner here when we can go back to your hotel and order room service and just be alone?”
“Is that what you want?” Macon asked.
“I don’t know.” Joanna let out a deep sigh. “I can’t wait to be alone with you, but–”
“But we haven’t been alone together since we started this.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re worried that we might jump into bed together because I’m back now, and that–”
“We should maybe take our time to get to that step,” Joanna interjected. “I can interrupt you, too.” She wiggled her playful eyebrows at the woman.
Macon smiled at her and reached her hand across the small table. She held it still there, with her palm up in invitation. Joanna smiled back and placed her hand in Macon’s.
“I will go as slow as you need to.”
“So, you’re not worried I’m going to freak out anymore?” Joanna asked.
“I didn’t say that.” Macon looked concerned. “I believe you when you say you want this. I believe you, Jo. I don’t compare you to Liv. Honestly, I can’t believe our idiot friend brought her up.” She allowed her thumb to play across Joanna’s skin. “I might be worried about that until–”
“After, when I don’t run away?”
Macon smirked at her and leaned forward.
“Do you want to just sleep tonight?” she asked.
Joanna thought about it. Macon’s hand was perfect in her own: it was warm, and soft; it was right. She met Macon’s eyes: they were flickering with candlelight like her olive skin from the small beige tea candle inside the ornate red holder on the table. Her red lips were still adorned with her red performance lipstick. She had a black dress with a V-cut on, revealing a slight amount of cleavage. And her hair was down but half-pinned back.
“You’re gorgeous,” she whispered.
Macon licked her lips. Joanna felt the muscles in her lower body tense and release suddenly. She licked her own lips in response. Macon’s eyes moved down to watch the action. Her smile reformed, and her wicked stare returned. Joanna knew the woman was picturing something in that beautiful mind of hers.
“So, you don’t want to just sleep?” Macon asked.
The food arrived at their table before Joanna could answer. She was glad for the reprieve, because she wasn’t sure she knew the answer to that question. She knew she wanted Macon; just staring at her made her want her. She also wasn’t sure if she was ready just yet. Macon had been right: they’d talked and talked while she was away, but they hadn’t spent time in the same room with one another to just enjoy the steps like holding hands, or sliding a hand up someone’s thigh, or wrapping it around someone so they could nervously rest their head on the other’s shoulder while they watched a movie.
They’d done that as friends, but not like this: not as more. They hadn’t had a real kiss as two people who had admitted they were attracted to each other and wanted to pursue something real. That kiss hadn’t then progressed into a full on make-out session, with tongues battling and quick heated breaths intermingling. They hadn’t stumbled onto a bed and fallen into one another. She hadn’t felt Macon’s breast in her hand or yet tweaked a nipple with her fingers. She hadn’t nervously slid her hand across Macon’s stomach while kissing her neck. She hadn’t heard Macon’s sounds from beneath her, as her own lips grazed Macon’s toned flesh and moved lower and lower.
San Francisco Series- Complete Edition Page 51