Stevie smiled. “I like that. Am I terribly mean?”
“You are. Gave my winery a horrible review and now I hate you.”
“But you also find me ridiculously attractive, and we ran into each other at another winery’s opening. Your best friend’s.”
“And my friend thinks we really need to hate fuck each other and get it out of our systems,” Iris said.
“Except I don’t hate you. Secretly, I want to wine and dine you,” Stevie said, lacing their free hands together and holding them right above her heart. She spun Iris around and pressed closer.
“Shit,” Iris said, her voice a little shaky. She cleared her throat. “How are you so good at this?”
Stevie shrugged. “Am I?”
“Yes, extremely.”
“I don’t know.” Stevie sighed, bit her lower lip. “I’ve never had a day without anxiety, which meant making friends when I was a kid was hard. I think that sort of made me want the emotional parts of a relationship even more. Don’t get me wrong, feelings are still scary, but it’s like a language that I understand. Fear. Happiness. Hope. Despair. Anger. I get what those things are, what they mean. But the physical stuff, using my body to talk when my body feels constantly at war with my brain... I might as well try to communicate with people on another planet.”
Iris shook her head. “God, it’s the total opposite for me.”
“That’s actually what I love most about romances,” Stevie went on. “The sex scenes are hot, sure, but it’s that HEA that makes mekeep reading, you know? The feeling of finding someone who loves you for exactly who you are. No more, no less.”
Iris snorted. “Have you ever found that person in real life? Because I sure as hell haven’t.”
Stevie frowned and was silent for a few seconds. “No,” she said finally. “I guess I haven’t.”
They continued to sway to the music, and Stevie pressed their foreheads together. Iris knew it was a move, a romantic gesture, but in the moment, Stevie’s lashes literally fluttering against her cheeks, Iris’s whole body went soft and warm. She opened her eyes to find Stevie watching her, the brown so dark in the dim light, Iris found herself writing a line in her head.
...the kind of eyes you could get lost in, drown in, and never even try to take a breath.
Jesus, that was some romantic bullshit right there. Which meant this was working—Iris’s romance writer gears were starting to turn in a rusty circle.
But as she and Stevie kept moving, their eyes locked on each other, Stevie’s hand drifting up and down Iris’s back, the less... fake it all felt.
Iris shook herself, forcing her mind to focus on their task and put some space between them. “Okay, romantic achievement unlocked.”
Stevie smiled. “Good.”
Her voice was way too fucking soft.
“Your turn,” Iris said firmly and shifted both of her hands to Stevie’s waist.
Stevie went a little rigid. “Oh. Shit. Now?”
“Now,” Iris said. She wasn’t sure she could take much more languid swaying and lowered lashes before something inside her shut down. She felt a bit woozy, like she’d eaten a weed gummy on an empty stomach. Plus, she’d gotten a line, a flash of that elusive romantic spark. She didn’t want to press her luck.
“Last time we did this, where did you shut down?” she asked Stevie.
“Um...” Stevie rubbed her forehead, blew out a long breath.
Iris squeezed her hips in reassurance. “You can do this. Think with your body, not your mind.”
“Is that what you do? When you hook up with someone?”
Iris nodded. “Just cut the two off from each other.”
“And that really works?”
Iris hesitated, something in her chest tugging slightly, but she shook it off. “Totally.”
