“Is this okay?” Iris said quietly as she wrapped her arms around Stevie. There was simply no other place for her arms to go.
“Yeah,” Stevie said.
Iris rested her head on the pillow, but then Stevie scooted back, fitting herself tighter against Iris. It wasn’t even sexual, just... close.
Intimate.
Iris held her breath for a second, trying to figure out what to do with her torso, her legs. She hadn’t done this in years—cuddling. Not since Grant. She and Jillian, despite the many actual dates they went on, never had this kind of relationship. Theirs was all fine dining and fucking, followed by Jillian declaring she had an early meeting in Portland while she slipped on her five-hundred-dollar shoes. And Iris’s dalliances of late... well, she never let it get this far, always leaving ten minutes post-orgasm.
She wasn’t sure she even remembered how to cuddle, but as Stevie seemed to sink against her, she found herself doing the same, herbody acting and reacting on its own. She pressed her face to Stevie’s hair, slotted her knees behind Stevie’s legs in a perfect spoon. Stevie’s hands tangled with hers, and they both exhaled together, like a song or dance—Iris wasn’t sure which.
Iris wasn’t sure about a lot of things right now.
But soon it didn’t matter, because Stevie’s breathing went deep and even. Iris’s own eyes grew heavy, Stevie’s rhythm and warmth pulling her into an easy sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY
STEVIE WOKE BEFOREIris. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was, why she was there. She kept still, not daring to move or let herself roll over and do something pathetic, like gaze at Iris while she slept.
Stevie had simply needed some comfort last night. That was all that was. Desperation brought on by confusion, anger, exhaustion.
Some of that still lingered, but it was clearer now.
Adri was clearer.
Her best friend, first and only lover, partner for six years. Adri did love her. Stevie believed that. Adri was used to taking care of Stevie, used to helping her navigate the world, their relationship, their sex life, even theater.
Stevie was used to that too.
She supposed they were both having a hard time letting go, but Stevie knew she needed to. Beyond the stage, Adri had zero faith in her, that much was clear now. And maybe part of that was Stevie’s fault—she didn’t have much faith in herself—but she knew Ren was right.
Stevie was stuck.
And if she didn’t figure out how to take care of herself, do whatshewanted when she wanted it, she’d always be right where she was.
Next to her, Iris stirred, and Stevie’s body instinctively turned over.
Big mistake.
Because Iris Kelly was fucking gorgeous in the morning.
Stevie imagined her own hair was a rat’s nest from the tear-soaked wash she managed in the shower last night, followed by sleeping on her curls half wet. But Iris? Iris was glowing in the morning sun that streamed through the windows, her hair a bright ruby, her eyes a seafoam green from the light. Long lashes blinked heavily, then opened fully when her eyes landed on Stevie.
“Hi,” Iris said, her voice adorably muzzy. “Did you sleep?”
“I did,” Stevie said. She tucked her hands together under her head, shifted her legs so they barely brushed Iris’s knees. “You?”
Iris nodded and yawned, but then her expression went serious, eyes searching Stevie’s. “I’m sorry about last night.”
Stevie shook her head. “It’s fine. I’m sorry I acted like a brat.”
“You didn’t.”
“I kind of did. And you were right. I was way too amped up to... learn anything.”
Iris smiled. “Yeah, I mean, what’s the point if all my extensive knowledge doesn’t really sink in, right?”
“Exactly.”
