Yeah, but there’s a reason for that.
Until Tarryn’s unexpected kiss, she’d been enjoying the evening.
Once he’d stopped talking about trading cards, she’d enjoyed her conversation with Jason. He was friendly, fun, and attractive with an expressive, interesting face. In another time, another place, she’d have flirted with him, open to possibilities. But she couldn’t do that here. Whether he responded or not, it would make things difficult for Sophie in the future.
And then Tarryn had happened and blown all thoughts of Jason clear out of her head like a nuclear explosion.
A bar, a friend, a glass of wine, a burger. It had the promise of a relaxed evening, of winding conversation, of getting to know an interesting person better. Sure, there’d been an edge of something that pushed past friendship. Allie curled her legs underneath her. Was this always the way when two women were out together? When one was definitely gay and the other was pretending to be? Or when one was definitely gay and the other was maybe a little bit gay and a lot bit straight?
Allie uncurled and went to get a glass of water. It was a cool evening, almost too cold to sit outside, but maybe the chill would clear her head. Not from the wine—she’d only had two glasses—but from the thoughts rocketing around her mind, beating off the inside of her skull, demanding to fly free. She slid open the door and went to sit outside.
She touched her lips. Tarryn had pressed her lips there, just holding the place, her mouth on Allie’s. There’s been no demand, no pushing forward, just a quiet offer she hadn’t accepted.
But she’d wanted to.
And then, of course, Tarryn had withdrawn because what else was she to do? No decent person would push where they weren’t wanted. But in those heartbeats when Tarryn’s lips had rested on hers, Allie had lit up within, come alive in a way she hadn’t for a long time. A flame had twisted in her belly—it was there now, tamped but still ready to flare. Maybe the spark had always been there, waiting for another woman’s kiss like a fairy-tale princess. Maybe one long-ago kiss had buried a seed that was now starting to sprout.
She took a long drink of water and licked her lips. Tarryn’s kiss. As kisses went, it was so gentle, so nonpresumptive that if she wanted to, she could brush it aside.
But she couldn’t.
Allie’s chest tightened as the truth beat its wings against her ribs. She’d wanted Tarryn to deepen the kiss. She’d been so close to placing her palms on the sides of Tarryn’s head and urging her closer. She’d wanted the movement of lips meshing, mouths opening, tongues touching.
Instead, she’d frozen with that realisation. Then, afterwards, as she’d looked around the bar, looking anywhere except at Tarryn, she’d seen Kirra and the knowledge in her eyes. Oh, no doubt Kirra hadn’t figured out Allie was a fraud. It was simply the knowledge that here were two women who wanted to take things further and for whatever reason…hadn’t.
Allie leaned forward and stared down at the street. The streetlight on the corner spilled a pool of light into the darkness. Opposite, in the lit shopfront, mannequins posed in bright, rainbow clothes in honour of the festival. And a tall, solitary figure, hands pushed deep into the pockets of her fleece, strode along the street. Even in the low light, she could see tight, iron-grey curls.
Allie shrank into the shadow of the building.
As Tarryn drew level with Kirra’s Kafé, she slowed and glanced up at the apartment above.
Allie’s breath quickened, chest rising and falling in shallow pants as she remained still, as if any movement would draw Tarryn’s gaze to her like a magnet. There was no way Tarryn could see her. It was too dark, too shadowy. For a moment, Tarryn remained staring up at the apartment, where a light burned in the living area. No doubt she could see it was empty, but she’d probably assume Allie was in the bedroom.
After a minute, Tarryn hunched her shoulders and continued on.
Allie’s breath left her chest in a whoosh even as a hollow disappointment took its place.
Once she was sure Tarryn was gone, she stood and went back to the living room. She picked up her phone and pressed Sophie’s number.
“Hey, best sister. How’s things going up there? Fought any fires lately?”
Only the one in my heart.
“Nothing new. Just seeing how you’re going with the portaloos?”
“Good news. The original company can supply. I’d say I charmed them into it, but the reality is they had a cancellation. And the stage, too, is sorted. It’s a bit smaller than originally requested, but it should be big enough for what you need.”
“That’s great,” Allie murmured. Portaloo problems had been sucked from her head in the last hour and replaced with Tarryn’s kiss.
“So, have they found the fake couple yet?”
“Vote count is tomorrow night.” And what, if after everything, the winners were her and Tarryn? Awkward, what. “There’s a movement to try to vote Tarryn and myself as the couple. I’ve said it’s not a great idea—we’ll be needed on the ground and can’t be swanning around in posh frocks. It’s not what they’re paying us for, after all.”
“If that’s what they want, then that’s what they get,” Sophie said.
Wait. What? Oh no.“I’m hoping a local couple, Garrett and Will, will win.”
“Or not.”
