Skye laughed. “Yes! I’ve always admired the Queen’s choice of dog,”she said.
“What else do you admire?”
“That’s a pretty loaded question,” Skye said, frowning slightly.
“Is it?” Lucy asked. “Because I’m obviously talking about everyday things. You know, things you like to do, places you like to go, favorite foods, favorite movies, and favorite ice cream flavor. You know the types of things people tell each other on first dates.”
“This isn’t our first date,” Skye said, her frown melting slowly.
“You’re right,” Lucy said. “This isn’t. But our last date involved me blurting out my life to you and you keeping very quiet.” Lucy had no idea if this was good enough for television, if she was coming off as flirtatious and funny, or if she was even impressing the producers. But truthfully, she didn’t care. This was real. She wanted to know more about Skye. She wanted to knoweverything.
“Alright then,” Skye replied. “I live in New York, in a rental that’s far too expensive and not nearly big enough for a dog, which is why I don’t actually have one… yet.”
“New York. Nice. Where?”
“Queens.”
“Hobbies?” Lucy asked without giving Skye a chance to gather her thoughts. Marla could cut the date at any moment. If she only had a short amount of time with Skye, then she wanted to fill it with questions, and hopefully get enough answers to curb her craving to know more about this woman.
Skye tilted her head. “I run… sometimes. I read… also sometimes.”
“What kind of books?”
“Crime,” Skye said. “Mysteries. The type that keeps me up way too late at night and makes me forget to eat.”
Lucy laughed. “We have that in common.”
Skye smiled, and with her free hand she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was the same strand Lucy had wanted to rescue ages ago but decided not to because any slight movement and they’d surely topple over.
“What about food?” Lucy asked, glancing away from Skye’s hair and toward her face.“What’s your favorite meal?”
“Pasta with tons of garlic,” Skye replied. “I judge anyone harshly who doesn’t like garlic.”
“And weekends?” Lucy asked, pressing on, daring herself to ask more and to do it quickly before Skye directed a question at her. “What do you like to do?”
Skye took a second to think about it. The way both her forehead and her chin creased in thought was adorable. “I wander around the city,” she said finally. “You know, walk around and get a coffee, maybe go to the museum, sometimes the park. I have friends I see occasionally, and family a little less. The usual.”
Lucy hesitated. She had an entire list of questions she wanted to ask. Some were easy to answer, like what shampoo she used, and others more difficult, like a favorite childhood memory, but time was of the essence. And so was her curiosity.
“Have you ever been in love?” she asked instead.
Skye tilted her head, her frown deepening as if the question had completely caught her off guard. Which, to be fair, was probably true. Of all the questions Lucy could’ve asked, that was the most personal.
“I don’t know,” Skye admitted, her shoulders tensing slightly. “I guess that depends on how you define being in love.”
“Not quite the answer I was expecting,” Lucy said honestly. She wanted to probe further. She wanted to dive into that answer, but she could almost hear Marla shouting ‘Cut’ any second and so, she prioritized. There was another question on her lips. One far more important.
Lucy took a deep breath and ignored the thud of her heartbeat in her ears. “Last question,” she said, her voice barely above the sound of the waves.
“Fire away.”
“Can I kiss you?”
Skye’s frown fell away. “Yes,” she whispered, her lips quirking. “You can kiss me.”
Chapter Seventeen
Skye knocked on the villa door. She felt like she was either about to deliver food or sell a vacuum. Three sharp raps sounded followed by a long enough pause for her to consider telling Marla that this date idea that they always included inThe Sapphic Match—where the bachelorette surprised the contestants late one evening at the villa—was probably the worst idea in the show’s canon.
