There was a jug of ice water on the top shelf and, next to it, a line of imported water bottles. Birdie settled on a bottle and twisted off the cap. When the cold water ran down herthroat, she felt an exaggerated sense of relief. But not enough to convince herself that everything would be fine.
Her thoughts inevitably drifted back to Alexis and to tomorrow’s lavender ceremony. Her heart suddenly fluttered like she imagined it would do if she ever were to find herself drowning. She knew Alexis wouldn’t let her stay.
Someone cleared their throat.
Birdie flinched so hard she stumbled back and hit the kitchen island with her hip. The water bottle nearly slipped from her hand and almost rolled to the floor. But she managed to hold on to it and darted her eyes, straining against the dark. When they finally adjusted, she saw Alexis.
The bachelorette was leaning against the counter, far enough in the shadows that Birdie had missed her at first. She had her arms folded over her chest, clad in a silky pajama set with a neat button placket and white cuffs.
“What the hell, Alexis,” Birdie spluttered before her brain could catch up with her mouth. “You just gave me the fright of my life.”
Alexis didn’t say anything. She simply reached behind her, and with an audible click, the overhead light snapped on. Bright light washed over the kitchen. Birdie flinched, not only because it was far too intense for her eyes but because she suddenly felt completely exposed.
It didn’t matter that Alexis had already seen her naked. And it didn’t matter that she wasn’tactuallynaked.
“It’s late,” Alexis said, still standing there as still as a statue.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Birdie said, her voice feeling way too loud in such a quiet house. “And I was thirsty.” She lifted the bottle of water like it was both a shield and an excuse and added, “Just needed some water.”
Alexis pushed herself off the counter and nodded like it made perfect sense. Because it did. Why wouldn’t it? For a second, Birdie thought she was going to leave, but then she rounded the island to the pantry door and came out with a box of Cocoa Puffs tucked under one arm.
No hesitation. No explanation. She just grabbed a bowl and spoon, then brushed past Birdie on her way to the fridge. Birdie’s throat went drier than it already was. She could practically feel the heat radiating off Alexis as her sleeve ghosted against her arm.
“Cereal is a great midnight snack,” Birdie muttered awkwardly as hell. “It’s my dad’s go-to. Except he swears by Lucky Charms.”
Again, Alexis didn’t reply.
She returned to the island, settled onto a stool, and poured the cereal, then the milk, before she dug her spoon in and took a bite. She didn’t offer any to Birdie. Didn’t even glance in her direction. She simply sat there, clinking the spoon against the porcelain as if Birdie were invisible.
Birdie had enough self-awareness to know that Alexis didn’t want her here in the kitchen. Which was exactly why she wasn’t going anywhere. She dragged out a stool adjacent to Alexis and sat down anyway.
“How was your date with Lyra?” she asked, resting her elbows on the counter.
Alexis froze mid-bite. Her spoon hovered in the air, dripping milk back into the bowl. “What a strange question.”
“Is it?” Birdie asked, shifting slightly. She’d read enough books to know the definition of strange, and that was most certainly not it. “I would’ve thought asking someone about their day was normal.”
“There’s nothing normal going on here.”
“You mean the show?”
Alexis dropped her spoon into the bowl. “You know what I mean.”
Birdie knew exactly what she meant, but knowing didn’t make her back down. The two of them acting like they could hold a civil conversation wasnotnormal. “Can we just stop with this?” she asked, dragging her fingers through her hair. She hadn’t bothered to look at herself in the mirror on the way out of her bedroom. Who knew what state her bangs were in.
“With what?” Alexis asked.
“You know what I mean,” Birdie retorted, feeling like a smart ass. And maybe she was one, but maybe she just desperately wanted a reaction out of Alexis other than contempt.
The sides of Alexis’s lips quirked, just briefly, but there was definitely something, and Birdie felt a surprising amount of satisfaction. So much so that she couldn’t help the cockiness in her voice when she asked once again, “So how was it?”
“It was fine,” Alexis replied. “We went to a lavender farm just outside Valensole. Walked through the rows just as the sun was setting. We had rosé and tarte aux figues at the little stone café, and Lyra talked about her job as a medical aesthetician in Boston and what she did on weekends. And I listened.”
“Did you like it?”
Alexis didn’t look up. She stirred her cereal slowly, milk sloshing against the bowl with each turn of the spoon. “Like what? The lavender fields? The tart? Lyra?”
“All of it.”
