Chapter Sixteen

Craftsman-style houses lined the streets of Thalia’s neighborhood. Amari calculated Thalia’s house was no more than fifteen minutes from her home. A fact she tucked away in case the night went in the direction she hoped it would, or if it didn’t and she needed to get home in a hurry. The rear lights on the truck winked off as Thalia parked in a long, narrow drive next to a tidy craftsman bungalow. A single bulb lit the porch, shedding a small pool of light over the steps leading up to the house. Thalia left the truck, carrying a small cooler with her jacket folded over her arm. She mounted the stairs and then turned to look back in Amari’s direction.

Amari pulled her car into the driveway behind Thalia’s truck. After setting the parking brake, she lifted the large, white-handled carry-out bag and exited her car. The faint light from a streetlight barely lit the narrow driveway, and Amari picked her way carefully up the drive. A chain-link fence separated Thalia’s driveway from her neighbor’s house. A shaggy yard led up to a small two-story craftsman house. The grass rustled near the fence. The high-pitched unhinged barking of a dog shattered the evening.

“Knock it off, Brutus. It’s me,” Thalia shouted from the porch.

The brown-and-white dog charged back and forth along the chain-link fence as Amari passed by on her way up the driveway. The porch light of the house next to Thalia’s home flared, bathing the yard and edge of the driveway in hot white light.

“Brutus, shut up and get in here!” a whiskey-soaked voice shouted from the open door. The dog barked twice more before turning and running into the house.

A woman draped in a floral housecoat stepped out onto the porch and aimed a large flashlight at Amari. “What the hell are you doing in Thalia’s driveway? You lost?”

Amari shielded her eyes from the blinding glare of the high-powered flashlight. Anger rose in Amari’s chest over the woman’s questioning. Her aggressive tone suggested she might have something deadlier than a flashlight in her other hand. Amari kept her tone neutral as a fine sweat rose on her brow. “I’m visiting. Not that I owe you an explanation.”

“I live here, and I have every right to defend my—” the woman yelled.

“Stand down, Ms. Grant. She’s with me.” Thalia’s voice, edged in steel, cut through whatever rant the woman was warming up to.

Ms. Grant lowered the flashlight. “Didn’t see you there, Thalia.” She turned on her heel, walked inside the house, and closed the door sharply behind her.

The familiar rage of being accosted and questioned because someone didn’t think she belonged where she was boiled beneath Amari’s skin. She closed her eyes, lifted her shoulders, and let them fall before she cut across the lawn to Thalia’s front porch. Amari sidestepped a bit of mud before she climbed the four steps to Thalia’s porch. A breeze ruffled the leaves of a myriad of potted plants that lined both sides of the porch. A wooden swing hung at one end, a colorful throw draped over the back. A wrought-iron table with two chairs stood opposite the swing.

“Is your neighbor always so friendly?” The wide boards squeaked as Amari crossed the porch.

Thalia’s face pulled into a grimace. “Always. She’s up in everyone’s business. And Brutus is as much an asshole as she is. I’ve lived here since he was a puppy, he lets me rub his belly, and yet he barks his ass off every single time I park in my driveway. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, unlike your neighbor.” Amari shifted her gaze to the house next door. A shadow moved behind the bay window that faced Thalia’s house. The small hairs on the back of her neck rose. A twitch of the curtains gave proof they were still being observed. Amari inclined her head toward the window. “Who seems very invested in your safety.”

Thalia gestured toward the rash of political signs in Ms. Grant’s front yard. “I don’t think her verbal assault on you had anything to do with concern for my safety.” Thalia unlocked the door. “Last week I couldn’t make it to Sally’s farm to pick up my farm share. She sent Chip to drop it off while I was on a call. Ms. Grant verbally accosted Chip, and then the bitch called the police about an ‘illegal’ leaving a suspicious package on my porch.”

Amari tilted her head toward Ms. Grant’s house. “Given her past performances, I would feel better if we went inside.”

“Of course.” Thalia paused on the threshold and rested her hand on the doorknob. “Don’t judge me. I didn’t expect to have anyone over.” She turned and shoved the door open with her shoulder.

“It’s better than eating in the car, or my office.” Amari followed Thalia inside.

Thalia switched on the light by the door before she locked it behind them. A table lamp flared to life and illuminated the living room.

“I don’t know how much better.” Thalia placed her bag on the floor. She stepped to the side and bent to unlace her boots.

“You’ve seen my house when I wasn’t expecting company.” Amari toed off her loafers and lined them up next to the door.

Thalia snorted. “If that’s your idea of messy, you’re going to think I need an intervention.”

Amari surveyed the cozy space. Books were piled and stacked around the room. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the wall on either side of the fireplace. The shelves were filled with books crammed into every available space.

Thalia moved two stacks of books off the coffee table. “Do you mind if we eat in the living room?” She inclined her head toward the dining room. A wide table was covered in stacks of books, and boxes were lined up against the walls.

Amari placed the food bag in the space Thalia had cleared. “Not at all.” She took her jacket off and draped it over the arm of a wingback chair close to the couch. “Where’s the bathroom? I want to wash my hands before we eat.”

“This way. And if you can stand waiting for me, I really want a shower before we eat. Do you have to be home at a certain time?”

Amari followed Thalia down the hallway. “No. My mom is watching Brianna. Will you think me rude if I start on the tortilla chips and salsa?”

“As long as you save me some, it’s fine.” Thalia gestured to an open door. “Bathroom is here. I’ll be out as quick as I can.” She left Amari and strode toward a door at the end of the hall.

The small bathroom was tidy. Whimsical mermaid prints of different sizes in black wood frames covered the walls. A large spray of dried sprigs of lavender in a hand-thrown pot graced the corner of the sink. The color scheme of blues and greens was soothing.

The tension of the day and the anger over her confrontation with Ms. Grant drained from Amari. After she washed her hands, on her way back to the living room she studied the rows of photographs in an array of frames that lined the hallway.

Aged black-and-white photos were nestled beside more modern faded color prints. Thalia’s appearance had changed little from her youth. Her wild curls distinguished her from the rest of her family, and she was easy to pick out in the photos.

After studying the yearly photos of Thalia and with her brothers and sisters lined up in birth order, their heights stair steps until their adolescence, it was clear Thalia was a twin, who had two older brothers and a younger sister.

A college graduation day portrait caught her eye. In the photo, Thalia grinned broadly in a cap and gown, arm in arm with her twin brother as they posed with their diplomas in front of a large The Ohio State University sign.

Amari moved along the wall of photographs, impressed with the size of Thalia’s family. She paused at the final gilt-framed image at the end of the hallway. The family surrounded a bride and groom posed on the steps of what Amari recognized as the stunning façade of Saint Paul Greek Orthodox Church. Amari’s stomach rumbled, and she gave up trying to learn more about Thalia from the photographs.

In the living room, Amari slipped her ring off and placed it in the watch pocket of her pants. After she untied her bow tie, she rolled it up and tucked it into the pocket of her jacket, which was draped over the arm of the chair.

Amari perched on the edge of the couch and opened the top three buttons of her shirt. She leaned back against the couch cushions, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply before she sighed it out, letting her breath carry the final bit of her tension away. The comforting scent of old books seeped into her senses.

Roberta’s expression when Amari had introduced Thalia let Amari know her infatuation was clearly on display. And that her old friend would light up her phone the first chance she had to inquire about her relationship with Thalia. Now, if only Amari could figure it out herself.

A tantalizing smell rose from the bag of food resting on the table. She pulled open the bag and took out a small packet of freshly made tortilla chips. The chips were still warm. After unfolding the top of the wax paper bag, Amari pulled a few of the chips out. The warm taste of corn tortilla with a hint of lime from the food truck’s signature lime salt filled her mouth with the first bite.

Amari leaned back against the soft cushions of the couch. Flanked by two adjustable reading lamps, a patchwork crocheted throw covered the back of the sofa. It was the kind of couch that begged to be read on, cozied up by a fire. Amari turned her head to read the spines of the stack of books on the end table.

Most of the books held bookmarks. Amari marveled at the eclectic nature of the books stacked around the room. Romances were nestled next to natural history books. Scholarly works on social commentary were stacked next to cookbooks and biographies. An obviously well-loved hardback copy of The Stone Gate, its burgundy and gold cover tattered at the edges, on the bookshelf closest to the couch caught her eye. Amari’s chest tightened with excitement. A fellow fantasy reader. And not any fantasy, a sexy-as-hell story that had led to Amari realizing many things about herself. She scanned the rest of the shelves for more fantasy works as she ate the chips.

★

Thalia closed the door to her bedroom and leaned back against the door. The sounds of Amari’s footsteps in the hallway faded. She studied her bedroom and tried to imagine it from Amari’s point of view. A smattering of dirty clothes led to the overflowing hamper in the corner. Her rumpled unmade bed glared at her. A thin film of dust covered the top of her dresser. Fuck it. It was what it was.

The flush of embarrassment over Thalia’s lack of housekeeping morphed into a wave of desire as she imagined Amari sprawled out naked in her bed. Thalia looked away and closed her eyes.

Another wave of want splattered with anxiety swept over her as she remembered their phone call and how abruptly it had ended. Thalia chewed her lip as she popped the snaps on her work uniform shirt. She collected the other dirty clothes from the floor before she balanced the pile on top of the hamper. She stripped off the rest of her clothes. After wadding them into a ball, she used both hands to shove the stack down. The dirty laundry sprang out of the basket like an unruly jack-in-the-box. Thalia gave up and let the few items that refused to be contained fall to the floor.

In the bathroom she turned the tap to let the shower warm up. The heat of desire spread over her body and peaked her nipples. Amari, in her house. Friday night and Amari had no reason to hurry home. Thalia had the day off on Saturday. A loop of possibilities played out in Thalia’s mind. Would she want to stay? Would she be open to more than just talk?

Thalia’s confidence grew as she remembered the way Amari had stood close to her and placed her hand on her lower back as she introduced her to Roberta. It was the kind of move a woman made when she wanted to send a clear signal of interest and intent.

Thalia smiled to herself as she remembered the way Roberta’s expression had sent the briefest of challenges before she turned her amused hazel eyes to Thalia’s. Thalia had basked in Amari’s territorial display, shifted ever so slightly to press against her side, and reveled in the way Amari’s warm hand had curled around her waist, her grip tightening with Thalia’s encouragement.

Thalia stepped into the hot spray of the shower. She replayed their negotiation to return to her home. After her reaction to Roberta’s flirting, Amari’s reticence to be alone with her had rankled Thalia. It was as if Amari thought the second they were away from others, Thalia would be all over her. As tempting as it was, Thalia was determined to take her time with Amari even as she wanted nothing more than to strip her naked and feast on the sweet treat between her legs.

No. Thalia was not going to let her body direct her emotions, not this time. She had been down that trail too many times. Amari was financially secure, or at least appeared that way. The hollow ache in her stomach drew her from her ruminations.

Thalia finished her shower and shut the tap off. After drying off, she stood in front of her dresser as she contemplated what to wear. She shivered in the cool air of her bedroom and her nipples pebbled. Not wanting to send the wrong signals, she settled on a new navy-blue sheer lace bra. Forgoing underwear, she tugged on her favorite loose-fit lounge pants and softest V-neck T-shirt.

Comfortable, not too sexy, the kind of thing you would wear if you wanted to hang out with a friend. Friends. Are we friends? Thalia pressed her lips together. Or friends with benefits? Fuck buddies?

The way Amari had glared at Roberta Clarke as she openly flirted with Thalia suggested otherwise, no matter how cool Amari played her feelings. Buttoned up from the toes of her polished wingtip shoes to her perfectly centered bow tie, Amari’s behavior screamed control in all things. What would shatter her control, unleash another side of the passionate person Thalia had glimpsed at Glidden House? As much as Thalia loved a lover who took control, she loved to flip a hard-ass top.

And Amari was about as hard-ass as Thalia had ever had the pleasure to meet. Most of the women who advertised as tops on Hit Me Up were not. Amari had no need to label herself a top. Power rolled off her in effortless waves. In the two years since Shelly left, Thalia had not entertained the idea of spending more than one or two afternoons with anyone. Until Amari. The lace of the bra pressed against the stiff tips of her nipples, a subtle reminder that even if her brain was set on an evening of talk and nothing more, her body had other ideas.

★

“Did you leave some for me?” Thalia asked in a teasing tone.

Amari turned to her. Thalia was dressed in soft knit pants and a long-sleeve V-neck T-shirt. Her wet hair hung in ringlets around her face. “Yes.”

“Do you want a beer? Or some wine?”

“No. Thank you. I don’t drink.” Amari shifted on the couch to make room for Thalia.

“I have sparkling water if you would like. Will it bother you if I have a beer?”

“Still water is fine. And it doesn’t bother me at all.”

Amari waited for the interrogation to follow, the familiar set of questions people asked when she told them she didn’t drink.

Thalia returned with two glasses of water and placed them on the coffee table before she sat next to Amari on the couch.

“You didn’t ask.” Amari opened the bag and passed Thalia her burrito.

“Ask what?” Thalia opened the wrapper of her burrito. “Did they give us hot sauce?”

Amari passed a plastic container of hot sauce to Thalia. “You didn’t ask why I don’t drink. Most folks do.”

Thalia bit into her burrito and then poured the hot sauce into it. “It’s not a big deal to me. I figured if it was important to you for me to know why, you would tell me. I have a lot of friends who don’t drink for one reason or another.”

Amari picked up the box holding her enchiladas and opened it. She forked a bite into her mouth. They ate in silence and Amari relaxed into it. Many people seemed to be compelled to fill every minute with words. Thalia’s quiet assurance and presence was comforting.

Thalia finished her burrito and rooted through the bag for the second one. “Thank you. For introducing me to Roberta. I still can’t believe I actually talked with her.”

Amari finished her bite as she basked in Thalia’s joy. “It was my pleasure. She’s one of those people who, after you have talked with her for five minutes, it’s like she’s seen all the way into your soul.”

Thalia wiped her mouth with her napkin. “I’m sure I gushed. And babbled way too much.”

“She was totally charmed by you. I could see it in her eyes. I fully expect a text when she gets back home asking for your particulars.” Amari shoved aside a bit of jealousy that seeped in around the edges of her mind.

Thalia quirked her mouth at Amari. “I don’t think she was as impressed as you think she was.”

“If I were an author, and someone came straight from work, stood in line for over an hour clutching my book to their chest like a life preserver for me to sign it, I would be impressed with their devotion. And if they were as half as charming and attractive as you are, I would be even more intrigued.” Amari sipped from her water.

Thalia rested her hand on the top of Amari’s thigh. “I think you sent a clear signal regarding me to Roberta.”

“I wanted to send a clear signal to you. What Roberta does is her own business.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a well-versed sweet talker?”

The heat from Thalia’s palm warmed Amari’s skin. A tendril of desire wound up her thigh and settled between her legs.

Thalia arched an eyebrow, held Amari’s gaze for a long moment, and squeezed her thigh lightly before she removed her hand.

Amari waited a beat and then spoke. “You have an amazing collection of books. But it makes me twitchy the way you’ve got them all over the place. How do you find anything?”

“It’s not usually like this. I attended an estate sale last week, and I haven’t had time to finish cataloging them.”

“Do you need help?” Amari swept her gaze over the boxes and piles of books.

“You offering to arrange my shelves?” Thalia smirked and her voice dripped with innuendo.

“It sounds so dirty when you say it that way.” Amari forked the last bite of her enchiladas into her mouth.

“I could use help if you’re offering.”

“Ego arbitrio tuo.”

“Preterea dedi.” Thalia inclined her head toward Amari. “I haven’t made much progress on my own.”

“Do you have a side business as a book dealer? I noticed multiple copies of some books.”

“No. Well, I have sold a few online, but my dream is to open a used bookstore.” Thalia lifted the bag of tortilla chips from the table and plucked a few out.

“I miss Oldman’s.” Amari gestured at the stacks of books filling Thalia’s dining room. “It looks like you have a solid start on inventory.

“I want to have it be like Oldman’s with a cozier feel and without the dust.”

“Have you found a spot for it? The space next to Bella’s is open. But if you’re interested, you need to move soon. One of my mother’s friends is looking at it for a quilting shop.”

Thalia pressed her lips together in a thin line. “I wanted to have a bit more money put aside before I took the leap. I’d heard that rumor, but thank you for confirming it.”

“How does a plumber decide they want to open a bookstore and know so much Latin?”

“My career as a plumber was pretty much decided for me. I’ve worked for my dad since I was sixteen and had my plumbing license by the time I was twenty. My dad wanted me to take business courses and I did, but I majored in classical studies.”

“That explains the Latin. You don’t like being a plumber?”

“I don’t mind plumbing most days, but I hate working for my dad.” Thalia’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I won’t be much longer. Is it okay if we talk about something else?”

“Of course.”

★

Thalia placed her empty burrito wrapper into the bag on the table before she wiped her hands and mouth with her napkin. “You really don’t have to be home any time soon?”

“No.” Amari tucked her now empty meal box back into the bag. “Mom’s with Brianna. She usually spends Friday nights with my mom. Brianna calls it their girl time.”

“I loved spending time with my grandma growing up. She lived two blocks from us. She had worked as a seamstress and taught me to sew.”

“Do you still sew?” Amari crossed her legs and settled back into the couch.

“Only at Christmas. I usually make something for my nieces and nephews.”

“How many do you have?”

“Two nieces and two nephews and the tie breaker is due in January.” Thalia shifted on the sofa and scooted to the end. She turned her back to the arm of the couch. After adjusting the cushion behind her back, she brought her legs up and hugged them to her chest. “I’m happy you wanted to have dinner with me. When we were at Ohana’s, you promised to talk with me about how our sexy phone time ended. Before we end up naked, I want to talk about the way you reacted when I called you ‘Ma’am.’”

Amari wadded her napkin up and tossed it into the bag. She folded her hands into her lap. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” She turned her head and met Thalia’s gaze. “And who says we’re going to have sex?”

Thalia held her hand up palm out. “No. I don’t want an apology. I want an explanation. I should apologize to you for ending the call so abruptly. And it was an offer, not an expectation. I like having sex with you. As good as our phone sex and our delightful quickie in the parking lot were, I remember how good we were together when we could take our time.”

Amari picked up her water glass and rolled it between her palms. The silence between them stretched thin as blown glass. “I didn’t mean to take it so far, on the phone.” She placed the glass on the table and turned to study Thalia’s expression.

Thalia’s brows drew down. “You called me. And I encouraged you to take it further. I enjoyed coming for you over the phone. But I got my feelers bent when you chastised me. And that’s on me. We hadn’t discussed our preferences and limits as it related to terms. We had more discussion online before our meeting in Cleveland than our phone call.” Thalia huffed out a breath and twisted a wet curl around her finger. “Before we met, we knew our hard limits, safe words, and health status. Nothing more personal than that. We’re in new territory here. At least I hope we are.” She rested her chin on top of her knees and clasped her arms around her legs. “I don’t want to be a pickup, or a quick fuck when you’re desperate or bored, Amari.” She shifted on the couch, and the neckline of her top pulled to the side, revealing the lace edge of her bra. “You say you want to get to know me, but when I ask personal questions, like why you were upset I called you ‘Ma’am,’ you apologize without explaining, and get angry.”

Amari crossed her arms over her chest. “I wasn’t angry. Not really. And I don’t know where to start. I don’t remember how this part is supposed to go. I’ve only had a handful of dates for the last eight years. And most of those were only single dates, either dinners where I lost my appetite before the first course, or coffee meetups that ended as soon as my coffee cooled. Every one of them were blind dates, set up with women my friends thought would be ‘good for me,’ back when I wasn’t as quick to say no, or felt like I should try to date again. I gave up entirely after a few years.”

“Not entirely. What about Hit Me Up?”

“I don’t consider getting together for sex a date.” Amari tilted her head to meet Thalia’s gaze. “Do you?”

“No. So will you please tell me why you were so angry I called you ‘Ma’am’? Do you not identify that way?”

“My wife used to—it was what she called me.” Amari rubbed her finger over the spot where her ring usually sat, acutely aware of its absence.

“Ahh. Now it makes sense. I get that. I won’t do it again.”

“I should have said something. I was rude to you.” Amari looked away from Thalia and busied herself cleaning up from their dinner.

“Leave it. I want to talk without distractions.” Thalia waved her hand at the clutter on the coffee table.

Amari leaned back on the couch and folded her hands in her lap. “Okay.”

“How long have you been on Hit Me Up?” Thalia traced her nail over the paisley pattern on the couch fabric.

“Three years. You?” Amari chewed the inside of her mouth as she watched Thalia’s face for signs of her reaction.

“About two years. Do you ever play in public? Go to parties?”

“Not my thing. Do you?” Amari lifted her glass from the table and sipped from it. She studied Thalia’s face over the rim as she drained the last of her water from her glass and placed it on the table.

“Not recently.” Thalia pushed a thick curl behind her ear.

“Why?” Amari picked up her empty glass and rolled it between her palms. The condensation on the glass wet her palms, and she placed it on the table before she dried her hands on her pants. She turned toward Thalia and fiddled with the edge of the crocheted blanket on the back of the couch.

“Most of my old crew are in relationships. I went to a play party by myself exactly one time. It sucked. Not in a good way.”

Amari chuckled, picked her glass up, and tipped it to catch the final few drops of water.

“Thirsty?” Thalia’s voice edged into a seductive whisper. “What do you want? With me? What are you looking for, Amari?” She nudged Amari’s thigh with her bare toes.

The blush-pink polish on them stirred Amari. She reached over and drew her fingers over the delicate arch of Thalia’s foot. “Do you like to have your feet rubbed?”

“Is this your way of distracting me so you don’t have to answer my question?”

“Maybe.” Amari pulled Thalia’s foot into her lap and rubbed her thumb up her instep, eliciting a groan from Thalia. “I’ll stop if you want me to.” She used both hands and massaged Thalia’s foot from heel to toes.

“You are the most confounding woman. And please don’t stop. That feels divine.” Thalia closed her eyes and groaned as Amari worked her thumbs over the ball of her foot. Amari indulged herself and stared at Thalia’s face unobserved.

Lush eyebrows arched over her deep-set eyes, and fine lines at the corners of her eyes gave way to a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her curls were still damp from the shower and framed her face in tight ringlets. Amari slid her hand up Thalia’s leg. Her skin was warm and soft. Amari rubbed the taut muscles of her calf.

Thalia groaned softly and her mouth parted. Her eyes remained closed as she rested her head on the arm of the couch and shifted her hips, settling into the sofa. The shift of her hips caused her low-cut shirt to gape open. Amari shifted her gaze to Thalia’s chest and the tantalizing view now on display. The lacy edge and sheer fabric of Thalia’s bra were exposed. Her nipples were peaked under her top, and the smooth curves of her breasts rose and fell with her breathing.

Desire, thick and heavy, filled her as Amari remembered the feel of Thalia’s nipples hardening under her palms. The memory gave way to another. The glorious sight of her over Amari, grinding against her, and her sharp cries as she came.

Amari pushed her hand a bit higher, and the loose material of Thalia’s lounge pants gave way as she stroked the tender skin on the backside of Thalia’s knee. The fabric bunched around her wrists as it stretched to accommodate Amari’s exploration. Her fingers skittered across the damp flesh of Thalia’s upper thigh. Thalia moaned, a barely there sound as she shifted on the couch. She opened her legs, giving Amari better access.

The skin of her thigh was warm and soft under Amari’s fingertips. She rubbed in tight circles. With slow movements, Amari widened her circles, and moved her hand closer and until the backs of her fingers brushed over wet curls.

In the quiet of the house, Thalia’s soft groans and her rough breathing filled Amari’s ears. All she wanted to do was push Thalia back onto the cushions and spend the next few hours with her hands and mouth between her legs. Amari closed her eyes as she stroked Thalia’s skin and imagined losing herself in Thalia’s body, showering her with attention and attending to her pleasure until the world dissolved and it was only them.

Reality seeped in and derailed Amari’s thoughts. Amari moved her hand away from the juncture of Thalia’s thighs. She drew away, sliding her palm down her leg and out of Thalia’s pants. She rested one hand on the silky fabric as she reached up and cupped Thalia’s face. Amari traced her thumb over Thalia’s trembling lower lip.

“You stopped.” Thalia opened her eyes, her brow furrowed. “We don’t have to stop.”

“I don’t want you to think I came here expecting sex.” Amari looked away from Thalia as guilt settled over her. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of you. It’s not right.”

“What if I want sex?” Thalia sat up and moved closer to Amari. “Would that be so bad?”

“It wouldn’t be, but we didn’t plan this. It’s not right.” Amari knotted her hands in her lap. “You said you wanted to talk, and then I did my damnedest to distract you.”

“I do. I want to talk. I didn’t say when.” Thalia sat up straight on the couch and crossed her legs. “Is it a control thing with you? You need to have everything planned out for it to work for you?” Thalia rested her hand on Amari’s shoulder.

“No. I want. I want to do this right. You deserve to be wooed. We started off backward.”

“What?” Thalia moved closer to Amari.

“We’ve already been intimate. We know more about each other than most people do when they start dating.” Amari scrubbed her hand over her mouth. “Way more.”

“And that’s a bad thing? We know we have the same kinks? Explain how this is a bad thing.” Thalia cocked her eyebrow.

“I don’t usually have sex on the first date.”

“This is not a date. This is a chance encounter unless you were stalking me. What we had at Glidden House was not a date. It was a transaction. An arrangement. We agreed to a morning of mutual pleasure. At least I thought it was mutual.” Thalia moved away and twisted her hands in the hem of her T-shirt. A blush spread across her skin from the neckline of her shirt, coloring her skin a dusty rose. “Do you know too much about me? Do you think I’m a slut? That I only care about getting laid? That I’m desperate?” Her voice rose in pitch.

“No. I don’t mean that. That’s not what I meant at all.” Amari studied the pattern of the wood grain in the coffee table. “I don’t know how to do this. Us.”

“Look at me.”

Amari turned to Thalia and met her gaze. Her eyes burned with a dark intensity, her pupils wide in the low light of the living room.

Thalia crawled over the cushion, rose up on her knees, and leaned close. She reached out and caught hold of Amari’s chin and turned her head to face her before she cupped Amari’s face in both her hands. Her touch torched a fire in Amari’s belly.

Thalia brushed a featherlight kiss over Amari’s mouth. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I believe fully in consent.” She kissed the corner of Amari’s mouth again before she leaned her brow against her forehead. “I want to know you. And I know you have some idea of being virtuous, and formal, of protecting my honor or some nonsense, but, honey, that ship has sailed. You didn’t seduce me. I invited you to have dinner at my house. I hoped you might want to do more than eat dinner, but I didn’t plan on it. I’m a grown-up, not some silly girl.”

Thalia leaned back and held Amari’s gaze as she drew her thumb over Amari’s cheekbone. “We know we’re crazy good together in bed. Some people date for months before they find out if they are compatible in the bedroom. If you really don’t want to have sex with me, that’s one thing. But if you’re holding off because you’re worried about what I’ll think of you, please don’t.” Thalia moved her hand and cupped the back of Amari’s neck and leaned her brow against Amari’s forehead. “Why shouldn’t we enjoy that part of us as we try to figure out the rest? I don’t expect anything more than what you’re able to give. I’m not asking for a commitment, or promises, but can’t we at least give us a chance?” Her eyes glittered as she peered into Amari’s face. “If sex is all you want, then that’s that, and we can go back to just meeting through the app and call it a night.” Thalia turned her face away from Amari’s and shifted her weight as if to move away from Amari.

“It’s not. It’s not just sex.” Amari gripped Thalia’s hips, lifted her, and pulled her into her lap. She wrapped her arms around her and hugged her close. She leaned her cheek on her chest. Thalia cupped the back of Amari’s head and pressed her tight to the swell of her breasts and the tantalizing bit of skin revealed by Thalia’s shirt.

“That’s why I stopped. I don’t want you to think that’s the only part of you I want. You deserve more. You deserve the chance to be with someone who appreciates you, all of you, who could be in it for real. I don’t know what I can give. I don’t want you to have expectations.”

Thalia teased her fingers over the back of Amari’s neck. “I’m an adult. I stopped believing in happy-ever-after a long time ago. I know things can go sideways in a hurry. Even things you thought were forever. Nothing is ever certain except the now. We have now.” Thalia lifted Amari’s chin with two fingers and kissed her, taking her mouth slowly. Her lips nibbled at Amari’s mouth and she opened to her gentle kiss. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.” Amari drew her tongue over the curve of Thalia’s neck and then kissed her way along the deep neckline to the notch between her collarbones. She pressed her nose to the delicate skin there and inhaled. Amari closed her eyes and savored the scent of Thalia, a unique blend of cinnamon and a hint of vanilla mixed with the essence of Thalia’s skin. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Thalia rubbed her fingers over the fine hairs at the back of Amari’s neck and arched her back into her kisses. “You won’t. Not intentionally at least. I know that. I trust you. You need to trust yourself. Trust us to work out what we want this to look like.”

“How?” Amari held tight to Thalia. “How do we do that?”

Thalia placed both hands on Amari’s chest and gazed into her eyes. “We keep talking.” She leaned in and kissed Amari on the corner of her mouth and then again. A slow deep kiss that swept through Amari, pulling her down into an abyss of desire. Thalia broke their kiss and moved her lips to Amari’s ear and whispered, “We don’t fight the rest.”