Alexis finally glanced up. She frowned, just slightly. A faint crease formed between her brows, and suddenly Birdie had this insane desire to want to sit on her lap just to see it up close.
“Birdie,” she said softly. It was like a warning, like permission, or like maybe Alexis wanted Birdie on her lap too.
“What?” Birdie said. “I’m just asking a simple question.”
But was her question really that simple? Was it not loaded with something else, something even Birdie couldn’t understand? Maybe the reason Birdie clung so hard to the hope Alexis wouldn’t send her home was because she felt close to her, and because Alexis’s naked skin had once pressed against hers, and her face had been between her thighs. Didn’t Birdie know her better than the rest? And for that reason, didn’t she deserve to stay?
Alexis didn’t answer right away. She simply stared at Birdie for the longest time. So long Birdie actually thought nothing else would be said for the rest of the night.
She felt heat rise in her cheeks. And then between her legs too.
Then Alexis blinked and set her spoon down with a quiet clink against the porcelain bowl. “You don’t make things easy, Birdie.”
Birdie tilted her head. “Do you want easy?” she asked, not sure why she had just said that. Maybe it was the exhaustion. She should go back to bed. She should go back into the room and tell Bianca to roll over so she could get some sleep, and tomorrow she’d wake up with a clear head. A head that accepted when Alexis gave the last lavender bouquet to someone else. But she didn’t do any of those things. “Something tells me Alexis Wolf likes things complicated,” she said instead. “And we both know whatever is going on between us—”
“There’s nothing going on between us,” Alexis interrupted.
“Really?” Birdie asked. “Because I keep catching you staring at me.”
Alexis scoffed, but it was weak, almost embarrassingly so. “You’re imagining things.”
“Oh, I’ve got a vivid imagination,” Birdie said, leaning forward on her elbows. “But I don’t think I imagined your handon my hip today. Or the way you looked at me like you wanted to devour me at the picnic.”
“That was an accident, and I was looking at the food on your plate.”
“No, it wasn’t, and your eyes were locked on mine.”
Alexis’s jaw tightened. “You talk too much.”
“And you don’t talk enough,” Birdie shot back, her pulse thrumming as the memory of that night in Portland came swooshing back. There had been very little talking. Very little of anything, in fact, and maybe that was the issue. Birdie was someone who filled silence with words, who over explained, who tried too hard. And Alexis was the opposite, which was probably why Birdie couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Something flickered in Alexis’s eyes. It was a spark that could’ve been irritation or intrigue, or maybe even both. Whatever it was, it made Birdie’s knees knock together under the counter.
Then Alexis shoved her stool back. The scrape against the tile was way too loud in the quiet kitchen, and Birdie’s stomach flipped like a pancake on a griddle.
Alexis stood and then walked toward Birdie.
Birdie barely had time to suck in a breath before Alexis’s mouth was on hers. Teeth grazed Birdie’s bottom lip, sharp enough to sting. Then Alexis sucked Birdie’s lower lip between hers like she owned it while her hand slid to the back of Birdie’s neck. Her fingers curled at the base.
Before Birdie could process whatever the hell was happening, Alexis’s free hand found her hip and tugged just enough to completely unseat Birdie. Her stool wobbled, and before she knew it, she was standing with her back pressed against the cool edge of the counter. Her spine jolted against it, but it didn’t matter because her mouth was too busy to complain.
“I didn’t think this would happen tonight,” Birdie whispered as her fingers fisted the hem of Alexis’s shirt. The soft silk bunched under her palms, and she tugged like she might pull Alexis closer even though there was literally no space left between them.
“You’re always talking,” Alexis muttered. She slid her hand down Birdie’s side, past the edge of her pajama shorts. Her fingertips skimmed Birdie’s bare thigh, and Birdie gasped into the kiss. Alexis swallowed it just as her other hand flattened against the counter beside Birdie’s hip, caging her in. “How about you just—”
A floorboard suddenly creaked in the hallway, cutting her off.Both of them froze.
Birdie expected her to pull away and rush out of the kitchen like nothing had happened, but instead her lips grazed Birdie’s jaw as she whispered. “Come with me to my room.”
Chapter Eleven
Alexis shoved the door closed behind them and Birdie stumbled into her.
Whoever the footsteps belonged to didn’t matter at all. If they’d seen them rushing out of the kitchen with their fingers tangled as Alexis led Birdie to her bedroom, they were in for it.
Frankly, Alexis couldn’t think beyond the pressure building between her hips. Her body was a storm just waiting to break. Which was why when Birdie hesitated, pulling back just for the quickest moment to say, “Are you sure you want to do this?” Alexis muttered, “Stop talking,” and leaned in to capture Birdie’s mouth with hers.
Lips brushed against lips. Tongues slid over each other, and Alexis groaned low. All she needed was Birdie’s skin against hers, friction and pressure and touch.
