Jaime didn’t know what to say or do. What was the etiquette in such situations? Before she could get lost in her meandering thoughts, Olivia raised her head, her gaze blazing.
Jaime took a small step back, forcing herself to keep breathing.
“You’re wrong.”
Jaime’s eyes widened. “Oh?”
Olivia stepped closer, invading Jaime’s personal space, and once Jaime’s back hit the sink behind her, her eyelids flickered shut, and she suppressed a groan as memories of the gala rushed over her.
Olivia cupped Jaime’s cheek. “Look at me.”
Jaime did, and regret washed over her the instant she gazed into Olivia’s green eyes that seemed to pull her in, that shone with an intensity and—
Olivia surged forward, claiming Jaime’s lips in an almost bruising kiss.
Jaime groaned, and clutching Olivia closer, she opened her mouth to welcome her heat and ardor.
Was that what she’d been after? Her mind rebelled against the need pulling her toward Olivia, but her body followed the path Olivia carved with that kiss, leaving her trembling, breathless as her thoughts fell away.
Jaime lost herself in the fervor of their embrace, savoring Olivia’s taste and the feel of strong fingers digging into her back.
A creaking noise outside interrupted them, and they sprang apart, breathing hard.
Jaime licked her lips, her eyes likely as feverish as Olivia’s staring back at her, glassy with the same pent-up passion twisting in her stomach.
An elderly woman entered the bathroom and, after giving them a curious quick glance, disappeared inside one stall.
“Uh, so there’s theVeils of Lightart exhibit,” Olivia started, her voice unnaturally high.
“What?”
“Yes, it’s their last day on Saturday. I thought about going there around three.”
“OK.”
“Good.” Olivia nodded. “I’ll leave you to it.” And with that, she left the bathroom.
Jaime frowned, her heart still galloping in her chest and her lips tingled. God, what was she doing?
She was still standing there when the woman left the stall and went to wash her hands.
“I heard theVeils of Lightexhibit is supposed to be spectacular. You definitely should go,” she said.
“Excuse me?” Jaime shifted to gaze at the woman, now drying her hands.
“Your…friend. She invited you there, yes? You should go.” She patted Jaime’s upper arm, turned, and left the bathroom.
Jaime tapped her foot, waiting for the pedestrian light to turn green. She glanced at her watch—only five minutes to three.
She had tossed and turned in bed Thursday night, blaming her restlessness on too much caffeine, then spent Friday morning busy in court, blessedly free from any wandering thoughts or chance encounters with a certain counselor.
Yet, back at home, her mind made up for it, and she spent the rest of her evening talking herself out of attending the art exhibit. She’d only looked it up for…reasons. It wasn’t too far from home, and she’d already decided where she would park if she were to go, which she wouldn’t.
Saturday morning had passed much the same, Jaime telling herself she’d stay home, yet she showered and dressed to go out.
She’d go somewhere else. There were plenty of other things to do in the city besides the art exhibit. Of course, she found herself driving to where she’d figured she’d park, and her steps drew her ever closer until she arrived at the intersection leading to the center.
Exasperated, but too far gone to turn around, Jaime stalked ahead and with a huff, showed her cell phone to the lady at the entrance to scan her bar code.
