She’d built that version of herself out of habit and fear, and Kirstin had adored it. Adored it as long as Alix stayed small. As long as she didn’t ask for too much.
The second she’d needed softness, real softness, not sex or distraction, Kirstin had made her feel like she’d changed the rules mid-game. Like vulnerability was a bait-and-switch.
It had taught her something ugly and quiet: that being wanted wasn’t the same as being chosen. That being useful was safer than being seen.
Grace stirred beside her, murmuring something unintelligible, her breath warm against Alix’s skin. Alix brushed a strand of hair off her face and felt that little quake in her chest again. The one that came every time she realized Grace wasn’t going anywhere.
Grace didn’t need her to be easy. Didn’t reward her for pretending everything was fine. She asked questions. She stayed through the silences. She held her when the jokes ran out.
It terrified Alix sometimes, how much it mattered. How much she wanted to get it right.
Kirstin used to say she loved how easy she was.
Grace loved her anyway.
Grace shifted closer in her sleep, instinctively tucking her closer. Alix turned toward her, pressing her forehead to Grace’s temple, breathing her in until the old ghosts quieted.
Chapter Thirty-Five
GRACE
Miami wascold and colorless without Alix. Grace moved through a house that was suddenly all cold surfaces and sharp edges while she got ready for work.
She couldn’t blame jet lag for the sleepless night, or even the stress of all the work waiting for her in the office. Work she’d meant to do in the margins of her LA trip but couldn’t manage to prioritize. Couldn’t find the will to care about.
Sleep had been impossible in a huge and unforgivingly empty bed. Sheila and Icarus, rarely clingy, had been glued to her while she laid there. She couldn’t be sure, but there was something in their unusually quiet and affectionate treatment that made Grace think they understood what an embarrassingly sad sack she was.
Blow-drying the layered hair she was still getting the hang of styling, she imagined Alix sitting on the counter, legs slowly swinging over the edge while she kept her company. Grace smiled to herself. Just the thought of Alix was a hit of adrenaline. The soaring high of paragliding that lifted her chest and mood right before slamming her into the side of a mountain.
With a groan, Grace gave up on her half-damp hair and put that shit in a high pony. It was still early, but not so early that she had time to drop onto the couch in nothing but a bra and high-waisted pants. For once, Grace couldn’t find the will to care about beating traffic. She opened her photos and went immediately to her new favorite.
Alix mid-laugh, dimples carving into her perfect face. They’d been sitting on her couch and eating the spiciest hand-pulled noodles ever made. Grace’s mouth still burned at the memory, but not as much as her sore chest did.
When Grace strolled into work, she was still earlier than any of the partners, but not first. It was strange to see the lights on in a few associates’ offices when hers was dark. And even stranger that she couldn’t summon a single fuck to give.
At her desk, Grace moved from muscle memory. She answered emails, communicating with clients the only task she hadn’t neglected, and then opened her calendar to prepare herself for the week. Impressed with herself, she made it a solid hour before picking up her phone and texting Alix that she missed her.
Alix wouldn’t see the message for hours yet, but Grace wanted her to have it waiting for her. Wanted Alix to think of her when she was still sleepy and warm.
“Trip was that good, huh?”
Ivy’s sudden appearance scared the hell out of Grace. Reflexively, she turned her phone over, hiding her screen.
“Were you sexting your new girlfriend?” Ivy wiggled her brows and took a sip of her coffee.
Grace playfully rolled her eyes and gestured for Ivy to close the door and sit. When she did, Ivy was openly giddy. “Did you elope? Get knocked up? Matching tattoos? Tell me everything.”
Despite her intention to be as miserable as possible in Alix’s absence, Grace chuckled. “I can’t tell which one of those is the most commitment.”
Ivy smiled, softening a face that looked sharp with her red hair pulled back in a bun for court. “Well, I was suggesting all three. You are an all-in or all-out girl.” She leaned forward. “Now tell me everything about your trip, and don’t you dare leave out a single salacious detail.”
Truth bubbled up from Grace’s aching stomach and kicked to get free. “It was incredible,” she said shyly. “I love her.”
The three syllables were woefully inadequate to express the shimmering magic she felt in Alix’s presence. The way her soul felt bright and new and totally unencumbered when Alix reached for her hand. The way their interlocked fingers made Grace feel whole. Real. Loved.
Ivy listened while Grace recounted one of the best weekends of her life in vibrant detail because she wanted to relive every moment too. Wanted to hear the noise of The Hollow and feel the solace of wearing Alix’s clothes.
Ivy’s fair skin flushed when she beamed. “I haven’t seen you this happy since… ever, maybe? God, Grace, I’m so happy for you.”
