Allie blinked as the anticlimax washed over her. “We should get out the way.”
“Do you want to hang around?” Tarryn’s fingers brushed the back of Allie’s hand. “Or shall we go somewhere quieter.”
Allie opened her mouth to answer, but Phyll bustled up to them. “No sneaking off. You have to dance, be available for photos.”
Tarryn formed one soundless word:later.
Chapter 20
For the next couple ofhours, Tarryn whirled around the dance floor with a succession of people. She posed for countless selfies, received a few glasses of champagne and whispered propositions. From time to time, Sophie flashed into her vision: laughing, dancing, or smiling for photos.
Just as Tarryn was despairing of getting close to her, their gazes locked on the dance floor and they pushed through the crowd to each other.
Sophie grasped her hand. “I missed you.” She reached up to kiss Tarryn, but they were interrupted by other people wanting a part of them. A drag queen pulled Tarryn away for a dance, and when she extricated herself, Sophie wasn’t to be seen.
Kirra approached and thrust a glass of champagne into her hand. “Girlfriend, you are on fire. You’re totally hot in that waistcoat.” It hung undone, and Kirra ran her hands up Tarryn’s sides. “The shirt shows off your boobage.” She leaned closer. “And if you don’t get lucky tonight, you can slap my arse and call me Shirley.”
The blood pulsed anew in Tarryn’s veins, and she gave Kirra an enigmatic smile. “What about you? Jason keeps your glass topped up, and he watches you when you’re not looking.”
Kirra’s smile dropped at one corner. “I don’t have a good record with cis men. I’ll stick with my queer mob. Besides, Jason’s straight.”
“Is that what he says?” The memory of Jason talking with Sophie flashed through her mind. Straight, gay, bisexual, pansexual, queer. The label didn’t matter as long as a person was honest in their intent.
Kirra shrugged. “I haven’t asked, he hasn’t offered. I’m not out to get my heart broken.” Her gaze turned sharp. “You though…Sophie’s going back to Sydney in a couple of days. How will your heart hold up?”
Tarryn scoffed. “When has my heart ever been in danger? Aren’t I the queen of tourist seduction?”
“You are. But Sophie’s different. And possibly a bit fragile. More so than you, anyway. Be considerate.”
Kirra had never before said that to her. But then Kirra seldom knew Tarryn’s partners. She flashed her a smile. “I will.”
Kirra whirled away. Tarryn made her way out the crowd and down the street where things were quieter. Kirra’s Kafé was in darkness, and Sophie’s flat above had a single light, probably left on for her return. Her stomach rumbled, and she turned back to where the food trucks were grouped. There were some nachos there with her name on them.
She was in the line for food when Sophie appeared at her side.
“Hey. I thought you were slipping out on me, then I saw you here. Can you grab some for me too? I was too nervous to eat earlier, and all the alcohol is sloshing around on an empty stomach.”
“Sure.” She ordered two serves with pulled pork.
Sophie took her portion. “Thanks. I don’t know about you, but I figure I’ve done enough. The festival doesn’t need us any longer—it’s purely party central. What say we sneak off to eat our nachos in peace? You can head back to the party after, if you want.”
Tarryn examined her words. Did Sophie expect her to continue partying? Her voice was neutral, her smile polite. But earlier, when they’d kissed, there had been no way Sophie would have let Tarryn leave. Maybe she’d changed her mind. After all, she’d said at the rehearsal she wasn’t looking for a fling. Maybe the flirting and kisses were purely for show.
So be it.
“I’d love to eat with you.”
“My place?” Sophie’s smile tilted. “I mean, Kirra’s place.”
“Sure.”
They walked the couple of hundred metres to Sophie’s apartment in silence. Tarryn looked around. Considering Sophie was leaving in a couple of days, the apartment looked much as it had done for the last three weeks: slightly messy with papers on the dining table, a half-drunk bottle of red wine on the counter, and Sophie’s sky-blue sweatshirt slung over a chair.
“Wine or water? They’re my only choices.”
“Water, please.” The champagne she’d drunk was mixing with the tequila, and there was no way she wanted more alcohol.
Sophie grabbed the roll of kitchen towel and a couple of forks. “Are you okay with eating inside? I’d rather not be on display on the balcony for anyone walking past.”
