Danika leans in as well, picks up her glass and clinks it on Kim’s. “To us.” Her words are slightly slurred. Danika doesn’t seem drunk, but the edge of caution has gone, and that is a dangerous thing.
“Cheers,” Kim says in return. She is not drunk, not at all. She’s merry, happy, and greatly enjoying the evening, and doesn’t want it to end.
The creep stands, puts his phone in his pocket and leaves.
Danika doesn’t notice, and Kim doesn’t tell her because then the playacting will end.
Danika is telling her a story about something, and touches Kim’s arm to make a point, looks into her eyes as she relatesthe punchline. Kim doesn’t know what the joke is about; she’s too caught up in Danika’s gaze, her unblemished skin—creamy pale with a hint of sun bloom on her cheeks. She’s fixed on how Danika’s full lips form words she doesn’t hear.
She wants to kiss her. Wants to lean closer, rest her lips on that smooth, smooth cheek and slide them around to her lips, a deeper red now from the wine. Wants to hear her gasp of surprise. Yearns to taste her fully, slipping her tongue into her mouth.
She will do none of those things. Danika’s friendship is still a fragile, delicate thing, and she will do nothing to jeopardise it.
But she wants to.
“My glass is empty,” Danika says with a pout. An honest to god pout.
Kim drains hers. “We should go. I’ll call an Uber.”
For a second, she thinks Danika will argue, insist on another glass of wine, but that would be dangerous for them both.
She opens the app, books the Uber. “Six minutes away.”
Time enough for a pee, to gather their things and go out front to wait.
They’ve only been waiting a minute before the Uber arrives. Kim slides in first.
Danika moves to the middle seat and rests her head on Kim’s shoulder. “Suddenly, I’m tired.”
It’s barely ten, but Kim is too. Get home. Offer coffee and an enormous glass of water, then bed. Separate beds.
It’s only a five-minute ride home, another couple of minutes to get inside the door. Kim leads the way to the kitchen, pours two large glasses of water and drains half of hers in one go.
“Thank you.” Danika is not so glassy-eyed.
Good. To Kim’s charged mind, Danika’s behaviour had moved past playacting, beyond a growing friendship. It was flirtation. Inept, awkward flirtation, sure, but that’s what it was.She’s sure of that. And there is no way she wants Danika to feel awkward about anything in the morning. Right now, they’ve stopped, and they can still laugh off what’s happened.
“Do you want anything to eat?” she asks.
Danika shakes her head. “No. Thank you. Would you think me a piker if I went to bed?”
“No, I’m tired too. Let me make up the sofa bed for you.” She goes to the hall cupboard, pulls out sheets, pillow, doona, and goes to the office. The bed doesn’t take long to set up. The two of them work together, fitting the sheets, putting the cover on the doona, plumping the pillow. Kim shows Danika the lamp, the switch for the fan, and offers the Wi-Fi password.
Danika sidles around the bed in the narrow space. “I’m good. I have everything I need. Thank you, Kim.”
Kim isn’t sure how it happens. Danika was tipsy earlier, but now, not so much. Now, she’s more or less sober. But as she’s rounding the corner of the bed, she catches her shin on the steel frame and lurches forward with a cry of alarm.
Kim puts out an arm to catch her, but Danika stumbles forward and ends up close to Kim. Her elbow jabs Kim’s ribs before her slight frame presses against her, making Kim step backwards to absorb Danika’s weight.
Danika grabs Kim’s t-shirt, her knuckles press against Kim’s waist, and her face smooshes against Kim’s shoulder.
Kim swallows hard. Danika is a featherweight, all angles and bone, but when she tries to lever away, her breath puffs hot on Kim’s neck.
“Are you okay?” Kim asks. “That was quite a wallop.”
“I think so.” Kim’s hair muffles Danika’s voice, and her fingers release the t-shirt, but still she clutches Kim’s waist for balance.
Maybe she’s less sober than she appears.
