“You okay?” Iris asked.
Stevie didn’t answer for a second, but then asked the main question that was keeping her awake. “You... you’re not going to ask me to leave in the morning, are you?”
Iris shoulders tensed, just a little, just enough.
“It’s okay if you’re scared,” Stevie said. “Just don’t hide that from me. I’m scared too.”
Iris closed her eyes for a second, body loosening. Stevie traced a finger along her jaw.
“I’m not going to ask you to leave,” Iris said. “I promise.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Yeah,” Iris said, then laughed, her voice a little shaky. “I want you here tomorrow. And the next day. Maybe even the next.”
Stevie laughed, relief like she’d never known making herfingertips tingle. She knew Iris wasn’t lying—Iris never lied about this sort of stuff, never did anything she didn’t want to do.
“I can handle that,” Stevie said. “Though I do have a Bitch’s shift on Monday.”
Iris leaned in to kiss her. “I’ll take every second I can get.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
THREE DAYS LATER,Stevie left Iris’s apartment in a haze of sex and delivery food, Iris’s scent still on her skin even after a shower. She didn’t bother going by her apartment before her shift at Bitch’s, instead opting for her own jeans—which she had included in a load of laundry at Iris’s—and one of Iris’s tank tops. The shirt hung on her a bit, a size too big and revealing the rainbow band of her black sports bra, but she didn’t care. Anything went, really, at Bitch’s, and she loved the idea of wearing Iris’s clothes... which meant she was really and truly gone for this woman.
She smiled to herself as she pushed open Bitch’s heavy wooden door.
“Oi,” Effie snapped from behind the bar, tamping down a shot of espresso. “You’re late.”
Stevie glanced at her phone. “By two minutes.”
“That’s two minutes I should’ve been in my office doing payroll for you wankers, so hurry up and clock in.”
“Always good to see you, Eff,” Stevie said, smiling.
Effie all but snarled at her, and Stevie just laughed as she passed her on her way to the back room.
She clocked in and was just putting her bag in one of the tiny lockers when her phone buzzed. She fished it from her back pocket, already looking forward to a text from Iris.
But it wasn’t Iris.
Ren:You’re avoiding me
Stevie sliced a hand through her hair, then tapped outI am not.
Except she sort of was. In the weeks since Dr. Calloway’s visit and subsequent offer for Stevie to play Rosalind, Stevie had done her level best to avoid the entire situation.
That included Ren and Adri, as they both knew about the offer and had already made it quite clear—Adri’s silence and Ren’s overbearing insistence that Stevie blow up her entire life and move to New York—how they felt about it. Adri was in crisis mode with the play, constantly busy with details for the fundraiser dinner that would follow the show onMuch Ado’s closing night, so she was easy enough to avoid. Ren was trickier, but they were also pretty wrapped up in costumes whenever they were at the Empress, and their day job took up plenty of their time as well.
Granted, there might have been texts—okay, a lot of texts—that Stevie simply hadn’t answered lately, but in her defense... well,Iris.
Stevie stuffed her phone in her back pocket and took Effie’s place behind the bar, losing herself in steaming milk and creating leaves and flowers in the foam of her craft beverages. For all its drudgery, she actually liked making espresso drinks. It was fast-paced and fun, and Effie paid her well over minimum wage.
“Thanks, Tim,” she said, her phone buzzing again as she handed over a dry cappuccino to one of their regulars.
“Take it easy, Stevie,” he said, his handlebar mustache twitching as he spoke.
She nodded, then wiped her hands on a towel so she could check her texts.
