The dog tows its owner over to them to say hello, and Kim removes her arm from Danika’s waist to pat it.
Danika feels the absence of that arm as she also bends to pat the dog. It grins up at them, tongue lolling. Its owner smiles, apologises, and continues on.
They stop at the small jetty that pushes out into the water, and for a few minutes watch a family fishing. The kids are serious about it, casting with enviable professionalism. Althoughwhen the smallest boy hooks something, he shrieks and drops his rod, and it’s his dad who removes the fish from the line and throws it back.
Danika pushes her hands into the pockets of her shorts and enjoys the breeze stirring her hair. “Coffee?”
“Mm.”
Together, they turn and head back to the car.
The coffee shop Kim takes her to is small—just three or four small tables and a high counter by the window.
They take their drinks to one of the small tables. There’s artwork for sale on the walls—bright pastels of fantastical creatures.
The coffee arrives, along with some macadamia slice. It’s not long since the breakfast omelette, but it’s too good to resist.
“We should go out again sometime,” Kim says. “Maybe try some of the laneway bars in the city.” She sips the foam from the top of her coffee, and it leaves a line of froth on her lips, which she licks off.
“We should. I haven’t been out in the city proper since university days.” Danika’s pulse judders when she thinks of last night. The part that sticks in her memory, despite her logical mind telling her to forget it, is the awkward near-kiss. She touches her fingers to her cheek, resting on the side of her mouth, where Kim’s lips landed. A quick touch. She doesn’t want to draw Kim’s attention to it, to make it into something it isn’t.
If she closes her eyes, she’s sure she could remember the feel of Kim’s lips. She does, just for a moment, and yes, that light touch, that softness, that warmth, that overpowering urge to turn into her and make it a proper kiss, overwhelms her.
Her breath hitches, and her eyes fly open.
Kim is watching her with an inscrutable expression.
“So,” Danika says, “this is great macadamia slice.”
Kim glances at Danika’s plate. She’s barely taken a bite. Kim’s lips twitch, as if she knows exactly what Danika was thinking—and maybe she does.
Danika stares at a picture of a blue-and-gold dragon on the wall. It’s easier than looking at Kim right now.
Kim takes a breath, leans in and touches Danika’s hand. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night. When I kissed your cheek.”
Danika turns and looks at her. She hadn’t expected Kim to talk about it. Her lips part in a silent exhale. “You didn’t.” It’s a knee-jerk response. It’s also untrue.
Kim says nothing, simply waits.
Danika exhales slowly. “Okay, you know I’m not being honest here. You did make me uncomfortable, but almost certainly not for the reason you think.” She takes a deep breath, and her heart slams against her ribs. The words she wants to say are caught in her chest, roped and tied down in knotted skeins of what-she-should-dos.
Last night, she’d decided she would pretend the almost-kiss hadn’t happened. It was the sensible,uncomplicatedoption. But she doesn’t want sensible, and while she’d love uncomplicated… Well, things are already complicated. How much worse could it get?
“I wanted you to kiss me.” The words tumble out, breaking free of their knotted cage almost without her own volition.
Kim’s eyes widen, and her fingers, still resting on Danika’s hand, twitch once.
Danika manages a tremulous smile. “And now, I’ve madeyouuncomfortable, as I realise you didn’t mean to kiss me, it was just us both being awkward. But I didn’t want you to think I was in some…gay panic. That I was repulsed because you’re a woman. I may not have kissed a woman romantically before, but I’m not… that is, I guess I’m open to the possibility.”
Kim still has said nothing. Danika closes her eyes.Can this get any more awkward?“I’m not expecting you to respond; I’m not expecting you to fall into my arms—things are complicated enough between us as it is—I just wanted you to know.”
“Thank you,” Kim says. “I appreciate your honesty. I know these things aren’t always easy to say. For what it’s worth”—she looks down at her fingers, still resting on Danika’s hand—“although it wasn’t deliberate, when we so nearly kissed… Well, I wanted it to happen too.”
“Thank you,” Danika says. “That can’t have been easy to say, either.”
“Maybe easier for me than you,” Kim says. “But Danika, please don’t think I’ll act on this now. We’re still friends. There are our daughters.” A shrug. “Queer women are world champions at unrequited anything. So don’t think I’ll make this awkward for us. I won’t.”
A pang of disappointment flashes. Danika ponders that. She should be relieved at Kim’s words. Relieved that their messy, complicated lives weren’t about to gain another layer. Kim’s right. They don’t need this.
