Chapter Eleven
“Death by speeding train or speeding car?” Gia asked Isabel as they stood at the water’s edge. The question stuck out in sharp contrast to their tranquil surroundings. With water caressing their bare feet, the sun dipped low in the California sky, somehow looking lonesome and poetic. Isabel was far from a sap, but even she couldn’t deny its beauty. Dusk came with a fleeting glory that she never got used to.
“Train,” she said quietly. “Way more memorable.”
Gia turned to her. “See? I had you pegged as a car kind of girl. Blend into the crowd.”
“You don’t know me as well as you think you do. Snake or rat for a pet?” she asked, turning the tables. She could hear music drift their way from their campfire up on the shore.
“I don’t want either,” Gia said adamantly, turning to her. “No, no, no. New question, please.”
Isabel shook her head apologetically. “Sorry, pal. It’s the game. You have to choose. Pet snake or rat.”
“I just think if you really wanted to, you could let me off the hook on this one. I don’t really want to consider either.”
“Well, I can’t do that,” Isabel said matter-of-factly.
She watched the color drain from Gia’s face at the thought. The killer athlete and surfing star who’d showed zero fear earlier today was now squirming at the thought of an undesirable, albeit fictional, pet. Isabel smiled as she watched the struggle take place across Gia’s face. “Rat, I guess,” she said finally. “But it better not try and touch me or I’m moving.”
“No guarantees. It’ll probably just wave from the cage.”
Gia shuddered and pressed forward. “Sex on broken seashells or on hot coals?”
“Ouch.” Isabel considered the equally painful choices. “Going with seashells, because I hear sex on the beach can be awesome.”
“It’s overrated,” Gia said, feigning an innocent smile. “I mean, I’ve heard.”
“Oh, I’ll bet.” Isabel imagined Gia wouldn’t struggle in the romance department, but from what Isabel had seen, she didn’t really seem to date.
Tonight, Gia wore denim cutoffs and a bikini top, an ensemble she seemed to frequent. Her body alone should have women handing out their numbers. Isabel, on the other hand, had changed into jeans, a white T-shirt, and her old faded University of New Hampshire hoodie, the red almost pink from washing.
“Steaks are up!” Hadley yelled from the small grill. “Fantastic steaks over here!”
Isabel and Gia walked back to the fire, and she smiled at the lightness in her step. Every now and then in life, a truly serene moment hits where you’re infinitely content with where you are, and the magic is hard to ignore. This was one of those moments for Isabel. The ocean air filled her lungs, the music from the compact radio lifted her, and her new friends made her feel welcome and included. The brilliant sunset over the water didn’t hurt much either.
She was beginning to like her new life.
But in that moment, it got infinitely better.
“Is this the place to drop off beer?” They turned, and Isabel blinked to be sure it wasn’t some sort of mirage.
Nope.
Taylor Andrews, who’d sent a noncommittal text earlier, still stood there holding a six-pack, her hair swept into a messy ponytail. She looked more relaxed and down-to-earth than Isabel had ever seen her, wearing flip-flops, jeans, and a soft blue T-shirt. She wondered what that T-shirt would feel like against her cheek.
“This is the place,” Hadley said, leaping to her feet and taking the beer from Taylor. “Hadley Cooper. So nice to meet you. We’ve heard amazing things.”
“Oh, wow. Thank you for having me. I’m Taylor,” she said, accepting Hadley’s hand.
“I know.” Hadley grinned and didn’t look like she’d be letting go of that hand anytime within the century, so Isabel leapt to action.
“Taylor, let me introduce you to Gia and Autumn.” Hadley reluctantly dropped Taylor’s hand and passed Isabel a look of apology. No harm, no foul. She understood the infatuation implicitly. “These guys are my neighbors.”
“A pleasure,” she said, stepping away from Hadley toward Gia and Autumn, who luckily behaved like normal people do when saying hello.
“Grab a plate and load up,” Hadley told the group, snapping out of hero-worship mode. She gestured to the fire. “We brought down some extra beach chairs.”
Isabel and Taylor allowed the others to fix plates first, the delay buying Isabel a moment with Taylor to herself. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said quietly. “Glad you did, though.”
Taylor smiled, what seemed to be shyly, but surely that wasn’t the case. “I think I needed to get out of the office. My eyes were crossing. Your invitation arrived right on time. I was happy to get it.”
Isabel’s heart soared at those words. “You were at work today? I feel like a slacker now.”
“No need,” Taylor said, walking them farther toward the fire. The chill increased with the departing sun, and the fire offered a nice compensation. Plus, it was really pretty. Autumn knew how to get her fire on. “You’ll have your own show one day and can put in the time then. Enjoy having a life while you can. Not that you don’t already work some pretty long hours.”
“Delivery service,” Hadley said, and handed them each a plastic plate with a steak and leafy green salad.
“Oh, you didn’t have to deliver,” Taylor said.
“Next time, you’re on your own,” Autumn joked. “You’re only a newcomer once.”
They took a seat in front of the fire just as Gia carried over a couple of beers. She touched her can to each of theirs. “Cheers, guys. To making new friends.”
“Cheers,” Isabel said.
Taylor held up her can. “I can certainly drink to that.”
“So, Taylor,” Autumn said. “Izzy tells us that you’re pulling double duty. Two TV shows at once. That’s gotta be insane for you, no?”
“It’s certainly not ideal.”
“How are things on Sister Dale anyway?” Isabel asked.
Taylor sighed. “As well as can be expected. They would be much easier if Lyric wasn’t behaving like a human roadblock to the show’s progress. Did you guys make the steak out here? It’s so tender.” The compliment resonated, and Hadley beamed like the sun on steroids.
“Had’s pretty great with a hibachi,” Gia said. “She should have her own YouTube channel.”
Hadley grinned. “I’ve never considered that before.” She jumped up, pulled her phone from her pocket, and began typing quickly. When she finished, she held up the phone by way of explanation. “My list of prospects. One of them is going to pay off one day.”
“It will if you keep writing them down like that,” Taylor said in appreciation. The salt in the air had inspired a slight curl in Taylor’s hair, and Isabel’s stomach flip-flopped in lovely appreciation. “I’m awful at remembering the ideas I think I’ll never forget.”
“Is Lyric Larkin as much of a handful as everyone says?” Isabel asked, pulling herself back into the flow of conversation. Anything to inspire a hiatus from the lust.
“If you promise not to repeat this, she’s more.” Taylor sighed and took a pull from her beer. “We have a sordid history, though, and I’m sure that doesn’t help.”
Isabel turned to face Taylor. “You guys have worked on a show together in the past? I didn’t know that.”
“Not at all. We went to high school together.”
“Huh,” Isabel said, trying on this new tidbit. “Small world. Who would have guessed?”
“Me. She made my life miserable and seems to think I’m paying back the favor.”
“Did she steal your boyfriend?” Gia asked, and then backpedaled. “Or girlfriend?” Gia glanced at Isabel as if in need of help, guidance, a vowel, anything.
Taylor laughed sardonically, saving her. “Neither of those were in the realm of possibility back then. Lyric did steal my ability to exist peacefully, though. I was not popular in high school.”
“That can’t be true,” Hadley said, looking crestfallen. Isabel loved her big heart.
“It was. Lyric Larkin, on the other hand, ruled the world back then, always one of the two captains in gym class. You know the ones who get to pick their team one kid at a time?”
“That practice is proof that gym teachers hate the world,” Gia said, shaking her head.
“Yeah, well, Lyric refused to pick me for her team even if I was last. It was that bad.”
Isabel’s heart tugged. “I’m sorry.” Taylor rested her forearms on her knees and glanced up at Isabel just as the waning sun caught the vibrant green of her eyes. Stunning. “I can’t imagine anyone not picking you,” Isabel said quietly and covered Taylor’s hand with hers.
“You’re sweet,” Taylor said, “but you’re going to have to trust me on this one.”
Their gazes held. Maybe the half a beer she’d consumed helped give her the courage to not look away. She didn’t dwell on the why but simply enjoyed the brief contact before pulling her hand back into her lap with a smile. Hadley and Autumn exchanged an amused eyebrow raise, and Isabel felt the blush heat her cheeks.
Taylor went on to recount the details of her time in high school, the weight, the teasing, the writing. “Which brings me to now, trying to rescue the same girl who made targeting me an extracurricular activity.”
“Here’s what you do,” Autumn said and sat a little taller. “You tell her to clear the hell out of your way because you know what you’re doing and she peaked in high school and how sad that must be.”
Taylor laughed loudly. “That’s good advice. I wish I could say those very words.”
Autumn pointed at her. “Well, just tuck that away in case you ever need it. Or call me and I’ll come say it for you.” She winked.
“I might do that just for fun,” Taylor said.
Isabel smiled at the image of Autumn and her beautiful, fiery hair storming the Paramount lot, and her spirits lifted. The evening shifted into a very chill atmosphere, with everyone enjoying the beer, the music, and the company. Gia ran down the beach to talk with a few friends she spotted, and Autumn went for a second beer. Dusk had shifted to night during their conversation, and Isabel pulled her hoodie tighter around her as the breeze nuzzled and lifted her hair.
Hadley leaned in from her spot across the fire and caught Taylor’s eye. “I don’t know if Isabel’s told you, but I’m a big fan of the show.”
Taylor beamed at her. “You are?” You would have thought she’d never heard those words before.
Hadley nodded. “I wait each week for the new episode, like my long-lost friends are about to visit me. That may sound cheesy or corny, but it’s true and I thought you should know.”
“You don’t know how happy that makes me. We work really hard, and when you send the show out there, you hope it finds an audience that enjoys the little world you’ve put together with your team.”
Hadley seemed to love that answer, which made Isabel happy. Most people she’d met at the studio, while talented and smart, were also remarkably jaded. They seemed to gloss over the fact that they were participating in something unique and wonderful and uncommon. Taylor got it, though, and it was refreshing. And attractive. Refreshingly attractive. Everything about Taylor was—God, why was she a teenager gawking? Get it together, Chase.
“Well, the show is better than good,” Hadley said enthusiastically. “Lisette is obviously my favorite. I just keep waiting for her to find the love of her life and make beautiful babies. She deserves something wonderful to happen to her after all her setbacks.”
“Right? Especially since her younger sister seems to have found someone,” Isabel said innocently and shot Taylor a glance.
Hadley nodded enthusiastically in agreement. “Yes! Thomas. Who’s a dreamboat. I’m guessing you guys will be writing a wedding soon, probably with poor Lisette looking on without a date.”
“It’s possible,” Taylor said, giving nothing away. She tossed a look back to Isabel.
Hadley glanced between them. “You guys aren’t going to tell me anything, are you?”
Taylor shook her head. “And ruin access to an uninfluenced reaction when the show does air? No way. I’m holding on to you. You’ll be a great litmus test.” In actuality, there were plenty of test audiences. But what was one more?
“Hey, Izzy?” Gia appeared next to Isabel and rested her chin on her shoulder. “A few of us are going to pack up and adjourn to Dally’s on the corner. Cool little bar. Are you guys up for it?”
She turned to Taylor, who opened her mouth to speak and then hesitated.
Isabel squinted. “I’m guessing you’re tired.”
“Yeah, but I’d love to do it another time,” Taylor said enthusiastically. “You guys are great.”
“Holding you to it,” Autumn said. The group packed up and walked to the street together before saying their good-byes. Isabel’s friends headed one way in a haze of fun chatter and she and Taylor stayed where they were.
Isabel turned to her. “Should I walk you to your car?”
The hesitation spoke volumes and Isabel silently prayed the answer would be no. After all, it really wasn’t that late…
*****
Taylor weighed her options as she stood there on that street corner, remembering acutely, painfully, the tricky situation she’d landed herself in with Aspen. The dramatic scenes, the tantrums, the topless surprises in her office. All of it could have been avoided if she’d just done her damn job and ignored the rest. Why open another can of worms? She was so much smarter than that. But what she had going with Isabel felt like something new, something noteworthy, but also something very dangerous. To her heart, at any rate. “I’m not ready to call it a night.”
What?
Who had uttered those words?
Isabel grinned. “We could pop popcorn, pour wine, and watch a movie. I live just over there.”
Taylor hesitated, feeling the weight of what that new frontier might mean.
“Hey,” Isabel said quietly. “Just a movie. I wasn’t suggesting—”
“No, I understand. It’s—”
“I thought it might be nice to just relax. Not think.”
Taylor nodded and held on to Isabel’s gaze. She really, really liked the way that gaze seemed to steady her. No games, no pretenses. Isabel was simply Isabel. “A movie, I can do.”
Isabel smiled. “Good.”
They walked the three blocks back to Seven Shores in comfortable quiet. “So, the writing thing,” Isabel said, “it was your adolescent escape?”
Taylor nodded. “Not the brightest spot in my history, but I wouldn’t change anything. It was the catalyst to who I am today.”
“And television viewers in the millions thank you for that.” Isabel looked over at her as they walked. “I wasn’t bullied in high school, luckily, but I can certainly identify with needing an escape.” She paused. “I’m about to tell you something big here.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep. Not something you can ever divulge by penalty of a fiery, graphic death at the hands of fate, which will seek retribution for the betrayal.”
Taylor was amused. “Quite an awful consequence.”
“Isn’t it, though? So here it is. Ready? I had an imaginary friend.”
“Me too!” Taylor laughed. “I was six years old and—”
“I was thirteen.”
Silence. “Oh.” Taylor nodded several times before the laughter broke through. She covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny at all. I don’t even know why I’m laughing. A teenager with an imaginary friend is one hundred percent normal.”
“I see no reason for an age limit on imagination.”
“No, of course not,” Taylor said, still trying to contain herself. “What was your friend’s name?”
“Henrietta. She sold real estate.”
“Oh my goodness, an imaginary friend with a job. How’d you manage that?”
“Nope. It’s too late to make up for the ridicule from earlier. You’re dead to me.” There was ice in her voice, but Taylor knew better. God, she was cute.
“Oh, come on,” Taylor implored. “The laughter was a knee-jerk reaction, and as you can see, I’m past it now. Tell me more.”
“No.”
“So, you and Henrietta, the real estate broker, sidled up to all the popular spots in New Hampshire? Did you close deals together or—?”
“Are you jealous?” Isabel asked. “You sound jealous.”
“Aflame with jealousy.”
“And sarcastic, too. Okay then, who was your imaginary friend?” Isabel challenged. She brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and Taylor was struck. The simple gesture had been one of necessity. That was all. Her hair had been obscuring her vision and she’d moved it, so different from Aspen’s sex kitten moves, yet it had her all atingle.
“Alfonso,” Taylor said finally. “He got me into all sorts of trouble. It was awful and awesome. We slathered the television with peanut butter while my mom got dressed in the other room.”
“Alfonso?” Isabel said blandly, as if not liking a taste in her mouth.
“Yes, what’s wrong with his name? It’s a great name.”
Isabel paused and regarded Taylor with pity. “Oh, Taylor, it’s not. I’m concerned that you think so.”
“It is, too, a great name. What are you talking about?” she asked, in full defensive mode. “Alfonso happens to be—” That’s when she caught the grin on Isabel’s face. “Oh, you’re awful. You’re just giving me shit for fun.”
“It’s actually not that difficult, which contributes to my amusement,” Isabel said, leading the way to her door. “I’m over here.”
Taylor glanced around the courtyard, taking in the two-story white building, the wrought iron, the conglomeration of couches. The result was quaint and inviting. “This place is adorable. I love it! The others live here, too?”
“Gia and Hadley live up there in the corner. They’re next-door neighbors. Autumn doesn’t live here, but she owns the coffee shop next door, so I guess she’s an honorary neighbor.”
“The Cat’s Pajamas. Yeah, she told me about it earlier. I plan to give it a try at some point.”
“I wouldn’t,” Isabel said, unlocking the door to her apartment. “That coffee is like crack, and Venice is a drive. Think of all the time you’ll spend on the road once you’re hooked.”
“That good, huh?”
“Coffee crack. Tell you what. I’ll bring you a cup to work next week.”
Taylor paused and smiled, resisting the urge to touch Isabel in some way. It was like she craved that contact. What was this pull between them? “You would do that?”
Isabel’s smile was so sudden and sincere that Taylor felt like she’d been wrapped in the warmest blanket. “I would and will.”
“Thank you.”
Isabel turned on a lamp, illuminating the modest apartment, reminiscent of an Arizona desert complete with an actual tumbleweed wall hanging. “Welcome to my place,” Isabel said. “Or Celeste’s place, if we’re being specific. I’m subletting.”
It suddenly all made sense. Taylor looked around, strolling from the living room to the adjoining dining room and kitchen. “It’s very…Celeste, now that you mention it.” She laughed. “Very. I don’t see a ton of you just yet.”
“I’m impressed that you noticed.” She shrugged. “I’ll get around to decorating once this boss lady at work cuts me some slack in the free time department.”
Taylor laughed and strolled back. “I don’t know why you put up with her.”
“First of all, it’s the best job I’ve ever had.”
“Well played.”
“And she’s smart and successful.”
“I see.” Taylor nodded thoughtfully. “Go on.”
Isabel laughed. “Surprisingly down-to-earth. And very pretty.”
That one snuck up on her, and Taylor felt the tingling on the back of her neck. Isabel’s tone shifted as she looked at Taylor with an undeniable heat. “So, as you can see, my life is hard.”
She felt the sparks from across the room, hot and potent. Instead of embracing that tension, she forced a smile. “Shall we watch that movie?”
Isabel blinked. “Yes. Yes. We should get to that.” She grabbed the remote and scrolled for the pay-per-view channel. “I vote for dark and action packed. What about Blade Runner?”
Taylor chuckled. “You would. I, on the other hand, was thinking more along the lines of Kate Hudson or Julia Roberts. Garry Marshall is my drug of choice these days.”
Isabel passed her a flat stare. “Interesting.”
“Oh, that’s a judgment-based look if I’ve ever seen one.”
“Compromise?”
Taylor inclined her head. “I’m listening.”
“Breakfast Club.”
“You’re on.”
Isabel popped popcorn and joined Taylor on the couch. They spent the evening quoting the film and losing themselves in the ease of classic dialogue. “This would never work today,” Isabel said midway through the film. “You leave those kids alone in a library and they’re going to be glued to their cell phones the whole time.”
She glanced back at Isabel and couldn’t help but notice the smooth column of her neck. She swallowed the visceral reaction and focused on the words Isabel had just spoken. “It’d be a much quieter film. That’s for sure. You know Hughes wrote the draft, tossed it in a drawer, and left it there for a very long time?”
Isabel leaned back. “I can’t imagine having written something so profound and then throwing it aside and going on with my life.”
Taylor nodded. “Yeah, well, that just shows that we’re not always the best judge of our own—” Her cell phone buzzed loudly from its spot on the coffee table. “Sorry,” she said, embarrassed. She glanced at the readout, cringed at yet another flirtatious invite from Aspen, and slid the phone into her pocket. But not before Isabel had a chance to see it.
“She texts you a lot, doesn’t she? That makes four or five times tonight.”
“She’s still not out of the transition phase. She’ll get there.”
“Is that what you want, too?” Isabel asked. “To be out of the phase?”
Taylor sighed, feeling the need to be up front with Isabel but not wanting to get into Aspen and all of the issues that came with her. “It is. And I think she means well, she’s just locked in a pattern.”
“The pattern of wanting you with her twenty-four seven?”
Isabel wasn’t wrong, and sooner or later something was going to have to give. Taylor turned to her. “If it’s okay, I’d rather not dwell on Aspen. I’m having too good a time.”
Isabel grinned. “Then we won’t.” They readjusted, closer now on the couch, and focused on the film, a bowl of popcorn between them. Twenty minutes later, Taylor glanced down and noticed that her left hand lay in front of the bowl in very close proximity to Isabel’s right. She wondered how long they’d been sitting like that and if Isabel had noticed. Should she slide her hand away, or would that just make it weird? She raised her gaze to find Isabel watching her, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. With her pinkie, Isabel lightly touched Taylor’s, just for a moment. When she pulled her pinkie away with raised eyebrows, Taylor laughed. A burst of warmth blossomed in her chest and spread. With a shake of her head, they turned back to the film and, for its duration, relaxed further and further against each other, enjoying the movie, each other’s company, and the night. Well, as much as one could relax with Isabel Chase next to them, smelling like cucumber body wash and looking like a model for moisturizer.
Somehow, she managed.
*****
It was after midnight by the time the credits rolled, and Isabel found herself wishing the night could go on. “Another one?” she asked with a sly smile.
Taylor turned to her, sleepy and sexy. “Tempting, but no. Thank you for hosting, and for the invitation tonight. It was nice to just…escape for a short while.” Isabel understood the sentiment entirely.
“You’re welcome to escape here anytime you like,” she said quietly. They stared at each other for a moment, and Isabel enjoyed the light flecks of turquoise that swam in the green of Taylor’s luminous eyes. She wondered what the name for that color combination was. She was tempted to look it up. Eyes like those didn’t come around too often.
“Whoa!” Taylor said, shattering Isabel’s daydream and jerking upright on the couch. “What was that?”
She knew exactly what it was. “Did it feel like the swipe of a furry paw on a mission?” Taylor nodded, her feet suspended in midair. “That would be Fat Tony, who is most likely stalking us quietly from beneath the couch. He’s my cat. He’s probably been asleep. I should have mentioned him.”
“A cat? You have a cat.”
“I do. He’s a total jerk, so I like him.”
Taylor chuckled nervously as Isabel ducked down in search of him.
“Tony, come out and say hello, you adorable ball of fur.” His answer was a roundhouse swipe of epic proportions.
“Wow. He doesn’t mess around,” Taylor said. “Why Fat Tony?”
Isabel met her eyes. “If he’d show himself, you’d get it.”
“Oh no!” Taylor said, lifting her feet at lightning speed. “Another one. He’s bound and determined. I don’t think he likes me.”
“He doesn’t like anyone.” The sound of hacking floated their way next. “Hairball,” Isabel informed her quite seriously, as Taylor fell into laughter. “Come on. He’s a cat with a lot going on.”
“I’m gathering that,” Taylor said, sucking in a breath as the laughter faded. “I can identify.” Just as she lowered one foot to the ground, Tony swiped again mid-hack, which only made Taylor laugh harder. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes. “It’s just the hacking in combination with the attack. It’s…unexpected.”
“You have a great laugh,” Isabel told her, enjoying the fullness of the sound. Maybe she shouldn’t have said so, but in that moment, she couldn’t make herself care about studio protocol.
“It’s not my most delicate attribute. My father said I sound like a drunken sailor when I get going.”
Isabel nodded. “That’s a unique descriptor. I can’t say I disagree.”
“Hey!” Taylor said, but she seemed to be okay with the declaration.
“If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I call ’em like I see ’em.”
“Trust me, I’m well aware.” Taylor glanced at her bag that sat near the door. “So, do you think it’s safe to…?”
“I’ll run interference. Follow me.” Isabel stood, crouched low, and reached behind her. Taylor placed her hand in Isabel’s and was led the short distance to the doorway, unscathed by her stalker of a cat. “Delivered safe and sound,” Isabel said, turning back to Taylor. The two inches Taylor had on Isabel in the height department were especially noticeable as they stood in such proximity. She had to say that she didn’t mind those two inches at all. Not one bit.
“I appreciate the escort,” Taylor said quietly, releasing her hand. It still buzzed with warmth from the contact.
“Tony’s all talk. He really is a good boy underneath all his bullshit. He’s my guy and he also happens to be the best cat in the world. You don’t have to worry about him.”
“Good to know I’ll live to see another day.” She slid her bag onto her shoulder. “Where’d you get him?”
“I found him when he was a kitten, mewing between two trash cans outside a restaurant I worked at on a brutally cold Christmas Eve. Brought him home, fed him, took his photo inside a stocking, and he never left.”
“Aww, you’re a kind soul.”
Isabel made a point of darkening her stare. “Swear to me you won’t tell anyone.”
Taylor turned the lock on her lips and smiled. “Take care, Isabel Chase. I’ll see you at the studio.”
“Do we have to say good-bye?” Isabel asked, the air between them popping with all kinds of electricity.
“I think we do.” They stared at each other until Taylor pulled Isabel into a tight hug. The kind of hug where she could smell her wonderful hair and feel each and every curve as it pressed against hers. She experienced Taylor all over and didn’t want to let go. It seemed Taylor didn’t either, as her hands moved slowly down Isabel’s back, stopping at her waist. The result was a staggering shot of arousal, and Isabel was about to embark on a mission to satisfy it.
“Good night,” Taylor said, releasing Isabel with a final squeeze.
Isabel smiled back. “Good night, Taylor.” She opened her door and Taylor walked through it. “Will you do me a favor?”
“And what is that?”
“Just send me a quick text when you get home, so I know you made it safe.”
Taylor seemed to take a minute with that one. Finally, she nodded. “I can do that.”
“Is that an annoying request? I’m sorry. It just puts me on edge to think of you out so late on your own and—”
“No. The opposite,” Taylor said, running her hand through her hair, looking thoughtful. “It’s been a while since anyone’s…” She waved her hand as if to move past it and adjusted. “Thank you. Let’s just leave it there. I’ll be sure to text you. Good night, Isabel.”
“Good night, Taylor. Tonight was…” Isabel grappled, not sure what word would do it justice.
“Yeah, it was.” Taylor smiled and headed off across the courtyard and Isabel watched, filled with so many conflicting feelings she wasn’t sure which end was up.
Thirty-five minutes later as she pulled back the blankets to climb into bed, Isabel’s phone buzzed.
Safe and sound, the text message read. Thank you for caring.
Isabel smiled and typed back, Fat Tony will be glad to hear it. I am, too. As she clicked off the light and slid between the cool sheets, she ran a hand under her shirt, across her stomach, landing on one of her breasts. She gasped at the little pulses of pleasure that hit and radiated outward. While her brain relaxed and craved respite, her body felt alive, awake, and anything but sleepy. Taylor had done that. Her nipples ached with sensitivity and her skin tingled almost uncomfortably.
If only she’d made a move. She hadn’t been alone in that moment at the door. Taylor had felt it, too.
She shifted beneath the weight of the covers and couldn’t help but wish it was Taylor pressed up against her. She blew out a slow breath, closed her eyes, and let herself imagine. Was her ridiculous heart beating way too fast, all inspired by a hint of pinkie action on a couch and a long hug good night? Why, yes, it was.
It was going to be a long night.