Callie nodded and said, ‘Mmm,’ and ‘That’s crazy,’ in all the right places, her peripheral vision finding Mae at every moment, watching her try to get out of the way of the crew.
Last night’s kiss felt suddenly impossible. Like something she’d dreamed and then woken from too soon.
But then Sam’s story took a pause, and she turned, meeting Mae’s eye. And Callie saw it. The fear in Mae.
Callie was glad. It wasn’t just her who was scared. That meant something. Didn’t it?
Back Then
Callie sat on the grass beneath the ash tree, her back against the trunk.
It felt good to be out. She’d been stuck inside all day, but now her brother was asleep back home, snoring softly through his cold, tissues scattered around the sofa. Callie was grateful for his unconsciousness. He was a demanding patient. But her mother was due back to tag in soon, so Callie was released. At least until her shift at the pub.
But she had thirty minutes, maybe forty, stolen between responsibilities. A pocket of time that belonged only to them.
Footsteps crunched on the path. Callie turned with a smile.
Mae was coming across the grass. There was flour on her sleeve.
Callie felt a ridiculous rush in her chest. How could this be someone she’d known all her life? And how could she not have seen until recently how goddamn sexy Mae was?
The sex had probably helped with that.
Not because it had been perfect, they’d both been a little nervous to cross that line, and it had occasionally shown. But it had been charged with a tenderness and care that Callie had never known. She’d felt cherished. Which, it turned out, was endlessly erotic.
Mae spotted her, and something in her face softened. Like she’d been holding herself together all afternoon and could finally stop.
‘Hey,’ Callie said. ‘How was baking boot camp?’
Mae sank beside Callie with a tired huff. ‘If I never hear the phrase “just a small adjustment” again, it’ll be too soon.’
‘Bad?’
‘Nine loaves,’ Mae said. ‘Nine. For what was meant to be a two-hour lesson. Apparently, yeast behaves differently depending on vibes.’
‘I’ve always said that,’ Callie said dryly.
Mae snorted, rubbing her forearm as she sat down next to Callie, shoulders touching. ‘My arm’s going to fall off.’
Callie’s eyes flicked to the flour dusting Mae’s sleeve. ‘You smell like bread.’
‘Ugh.’
‘It’s nice,’ Callie said, and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.
Mae rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
They sat there for a moment, shoulders touching, the pond murmuring beside them. The ash tree’s leaves shifted overhead, and a caterpillar fell out, dropping with a small thud.
‘How’s your brother?’ Mae asked.
Callie groaned, tipping her head back against the trunk. ‘Still alive. Still furious about missing coding camp. I spent three hours watching him rebuild the same stupid game level while he sneezed because he “might as well practise”.’
‘Does he understand he has to rest to get better?’
‘Nope. But then he fell asleep mid-rant about a bug,’ Callie said. ‘I truly don’t know what he’s talking about half the time. Which is nice. He’s growing up.’
Mae smiled properly at that. ‘You’re a nice sister.’
