“Hi,” Alix muttered against her lips, hands gliding up Grace’s thighs. She loved the way Alix couldn’t stop touching her. The way she made her feel like the sexiest woman she’d ever seen. “I have some sandwich stuff in the fridge if you’re hungry?—”
Grace interrupted her with a kiss. Slow and deep and heavy with relief. Five days without Alix’s lips on hers. Without her cologne on her skin and her hands on her body. Was too long. She was starving and doubted that she’d ever get her fill.
“That’s not what I’m craving,” Grace confessed before her kiss turned ravenous. So much for needing wings to fly or fall.
Chapter Thirty
ALIX
Alix wantedto take Grace somewhere local, somewhere that felt like her. Not touristy, not curated. So: The Hollow. The queer vegan-food-joint-slash-dive-bar where Alix and her friends always ended up after long shifts.
Friday night in Silver Lake hummed like a slightly out of tune guitar. Music spilled from open doors, a pit bull on a bejeweled leash strutted past in a striped sweater, and a breeze carried hints of citrus and weed. Neon signs glowed against stucco storefronts, the street alive with people who looked like they’d stepped out of an Urban Outfitters advertisement and never looked back.
Grace, ever polished, fit in and didn’t. Her lipstick gleamed, her light jacket looked immaculately tailored, her heels clicked, and Alix felt that familiar, stupid rush of pride walking beside her. Grace looked like she belonged anywhere, and maybe that included here. The sight of her under the streetlights made Alix’s chest go tight in the best way, like she’d been waiting to show Grace this life and didn’t know until now just how much it mattered.
Grace was here. Here, with her. She tugged her light coat a little tighter, trying to hide her stupid grin in the collar.
The Hollow smelled like beer, basil, and coconut milk cheese. The air hummed with chatter and low laughter, the kind of place where you could overhear a breakup and a band booking in the same five minutes.
Lola spotted her first — pink hair tonight, tattoos visible under a sleeveless band tee, already working toward the bottom of a beer bottle. “Kind of you to pause your sexcapades long enough to join us.”
“Details would only make you jealous,” Alix said, sliding into the booth they always grabbed. She gestured toward Grace. “This is Grace.”
“The Miami lawyer,” Lola said, eyes twinkling. “We’ve heard stories.”
Oscar, perched beside Lola with an Aperol spritz, raised a brow. “So this is the woman who got our girl to go to Florida unironically.”
Grace grinned, easy and self-possessed. “Proud to be a blue dot influencer.”
Lola barked a laugh and waved for the bartender. “First round’s on me. You’re gonna fit in fine.”
Alix exhaled, tension draining. Her world, her friends, Grace’s hand brushing hers under the table. It all felt like two halves of her life finally overlapping. She could feel the weight lifting from her shoulders, replaced by something warmer, quieter. Grace leaned closer to whisper something that made Alix’s laugh bubble out before she could stop it.
They ordered a vegan pizza loaded with veggies and a round of margaritas that hit faster than expected.
Conversation flowed easily. Grace asked Oscar about his art show. Lola roasted Alix for ghosting the salon group chat.
“She goes home for one week and forgets she has friends,” Lola said.
“To be fair,” Grace said, leaning against Alix’s shoulder, “she was very busy losing gingerbread competitions.”
“You lost a gingerbread competition?” Oscar gasped.
“Rigged. My father’s corrupt,” Alix groaned.
The table dissolved into laughter as Grace told stories of the gingerbread, the cowboy boots that Alix learned she’d packed for LA, her twin cousins straight out ofThe Shining. Alix could feel Grace shaking against her side, her laugh vibrating through her ribs. A buzzy heat bloomed under her skin, but it wasn’t from the tequila. It was Grace, always Grace, looking up at her through her dark lashes, the edge of her mouth curving like she knew exactly what she was doing.
By the second round, Grace’s posture and laugh were looser. Alix couldn’t stop watching how her earrings caught the light, how her eyes lit up when she listened. Every time Grace smiled, something in Alix’s stomach flipped over. She couldn’t stop touching her, either, brushing knees, playing with her hair, kissing her shoulder.
The Hollow filled fast, noise rising around them. Grace leaned closer to hear, the air between them charged. Alix slid an arm around her waist, tugging her into her lap without thinking.
“Sorry, it’s just getting so packed in here,” Alix said, deadpan, even though there was plenty of room.
Grace’s hand landed on her shoulder. “Uh-huh.”
Lola smirked from across the table. “This is a family establishment. Get a room.”
Alix raised her middle finger. “Jealousy’s not your color, Lo.”
