“You’re only three years older than me.”
“Yeah,” Glyma said as she passed the cigarette back into Quin’s hold, “but I didn’t grow up a spoiled, little rich girl, so I’m wise beyond my years.”
Throwing her head back, Quin laughed up at the twin moons rising into the sky. “Wow! I never said I was spoiled.”
“Is this a Mercedes?” Glyma asked much too innocently, tapping her nail on the car’s emblem.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Quin slid off the hood and crushed the butt of the cigarette against the bottom of her hoof, then flicked it into the dirt. “I’m taking you home so you won’t infect my car with your impoverished germs.”
“Oh no, I’m getting my poor all over it,” Glyma cried, flopping over so she could rub the front of her body all over the hood. “All your rich friends will smell the poverty for weeks!”
Laughing fully, Quin lunged at her, and she squealed, tumbling off the hood and running around the car until she was on the opposite side. She folded her arms on the top of the car and rested her chin on the back of her hands. Quin wasn’t tall enough to copy her without balancing on the tips of her hooves, and Glyma snickered.
“I could catch you if I wanted,” Quin said primly.
“That’s not the threat you think it is,” Glyma purred, and Quin clicked her tongue in reprimand.
“Just get your ass in the car.”
Glyma wiggled her eyebrows. “Why? Wanna make out like teenagers in the back?”
With more force than the car deserved, Quin yanked open the driver’s door and folded herself inside. “Is that really all you think about?”
“Unfortunately, it’s never far from my mind,” Glyma said honestly as she joined Quin in the cab. She tucked her purse between her knees, then buckled up. “It’s not like I can help it. I’m literally built this way.”
“Convenient excuse,” Quin said, though her mouth turned up in the corners.
As they pulled away from the care home, Glyma typed her address into Quin’s GPS, then settled more comfortably in her seat. “It’s actually not convenient. I don’t want to perv on everyone I meet, but when one of your stomachs literally exists to feed on people’s pleasure and your brain is wired to search out your next meal, it makes it hard not to at least consider everyone as an option.”
Quin was quiet for a while, not speaking until they turned onto the main road. “That must be exhausting. All that mental energy and control, simply to see people for who they are and not what they can give you.”
“Everyone does that in some capacity. We’re all wired to survive. Mine’s just more dramatic.”
“And you feel it, don’t you? When people want you?”
Glyma nodded. She hated that, too. The constant desire, the selfish lust, always lapping at the edges of her aura, fighting to break in. “Yeah, but it’s not me they want. It’s my body. It’s the high I can give them. Every single thing about me is built for pleasure, and that’s what they want. Not me. They don’t take the time to know enough about me to wantme.
“Which isn’t always bad. Sometimes, I just need a quick snack,” she said in an attempt at levity, but Quin didn’t laugh. She simply frowned at the road. “But yeah, I feel it. All around me. All the time.”
“I’m sorry,” Quin said.
“It’s not just my experience. All women feel it, the constant objectification,” Glyma said, and Quin nodded miserably. “But again, mine’s just more dramatic.”
“I hope I never made you feel—”
“You haven’t,” Glyma interrupted her, tone firm. “It’s not the same. Not that women can’t or don’t objectify. They can, andthey do. But even then, it’s hardly ever the same. They look and they admire and they want, but there’s rarely the threat of violence underneath. Women know how to want without taking.”
Her throat clicked as she swallowed the injustice, as most women in this world had learned to. “Plus, I happen to want you back. Consent makes all the difference, too.”
Another flush darkened Quin’s cheek, barely visible in the dark of the cab. “You don’t have to flatter me.”
“Is it flattery if I’m just being honest? I like you, Quin. I like you a lot.”
They rolled to a stop at a red light, and Quin glanced her way. “We barely know each other.”
“I know enough,” Glyma said simply.
They drove in silence for several minutes, and Glyma let it be. She tended to chatter, but she wasn’t uncomfortable with silence, not with someone she felt safe with. So she leaned her head back on the cushy headrest and closed her eyes.
