“Also, can I document this on TikTok?”
“Absolutely not. There’s enough queer women drama there already,” I say. I don’t care how good exposure would be for business, it’s not worth the trouble. “I hope you felt that eye roll.”
She makes a contemplative noise. “I’ll ask again later.”
“Go pack.” I scoff a laugh and shake my head. “Safe travels. Don’t forget your passport.”
“Already in my fanny pack. Which is—,” Rory replies, then pauses. There’s a thud. Likely a suitcase hitting the floor. More zipping noises. “Got it. Kisses.”
The line disconnects. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, then fall back until the mattress catches me. Exhaustion etches through every cell of my body. My phone lights up. I lift it from my stomach and glance at a text from Rory.
Rory
Remember. You’re Charlotte Fucking Harrington.
I clamp my eyes shut. Easy for her to say. I’m the one stuck in a cabin with a kaleidoscope of memories of the woman who got away. She’s right though. This isn’t just about me and Kez. It’s about Bed & Boudoir and helping women. I built this business from nothing. And now I’m ready to start a new chapter with a business partner. Generational wealth. A legacy. I can’t let nostalgia cloud my judgement.
Perhaps a walk around the property with my camera tomorrow will help me think clearly. I need fresh air and wildlife shots—the kind I took in high school, back when photography was just a hobby.
Tomorrow, I’ll be Charlotte fucking Harrington. Tonight, I’m just Charlotte. Exhausted. Confused. And a little horny. Trapped with Kezia Langston. And definitelynotthinking about her lips. Eyelids growing heavier, I roll onto my side and hope sleep claims me before I can lie to myself again.
CHAPTER 6
KEZ
“Why areyou calling me so late?” Paige angrily whispers on the other line, voice thick with sleep.
“What are you? Seven years old? It’s only midnight,” I say through shivers I can’t control. This thin blanket is useless.
I sent Paige ten text messages about today’s chain of events and received zilch in return. Of course, I called. What if my Butch Bestie had an emergency? Plus, my fingers are too cold to type.
She mumbles words in Spanish that I don’t understand but can only imagine. “More like forty-seven. With a perfectly reasonable bedtime.”
“I can’t sleep,” I confess, whining as if I’m the child here. Another gust of cool air sneaks underneath the blanket and attacks me. I groan through my chattering teeth. “Charlotte stole the bed. The vents don’t work right in the living room. It’s freezing out here. I haven’t had time to cut firewood.”
“Aren’t there three bedrooms?” Paige asks in an exasperated voice.
“Four,” I correct her. “There’s only one bed. Trust me, I checked.”
“Go push her out of it, then,” Paige shoots back. Arrest her for bed theft, Officer.”
I huff. “No wonder you’re single. You’re so grumpy on a school night.”
“Because it’s past midnight,” she barks. “I’m turning into a pumpkin!”
Okay,damn. I think for a moment, replaying the clause in my head. “How do I get Charlotte to leave the property? She wants to turn my home into a business for fuck’s sake.”
Paige lets out an exasperated sigh. “Geez, I don’t know. Apologize for being an ass, maybe? I say this with love, Kez. But you probably already said something stupid.”
“I—,” I pause, then shrug as if Paige could see me. She’s not wrong. I pull the blanket tighter and stare at the ceiling. “I might have put my foot in my mouth.”
“Mierda. What did you say?”
I swallow. Only insulted her business. Insulted her.
“Nothing big.” I change the subject. “How’d that date end up going?”
There’s a beat of silence. Followed by more. Thankfully she doesn’t resist the topic change.
