“You think I can make it big?” Elise asked, oblivious to the war going on in Harper’s head. The sun was almost gone. The fire was nowhere near bright enough to reflect in her eyes. But it was there, blazing. It was so pronounced and so beautiful that Harper was completely hypnotized.
“I do,” she said, then dug her empty beer bottle into the sand and circled her knees with her arms. “Will you promise you won’t forget me?” The words were out before Harper could grab them back and stuff them into her mouth. Why would she even say something like that? She braced for Elise to give her a funny look; she certainly deserved it. Instead, Elise leaned against her and said, “I don’t think I can ever forget you.”
“Well then, promise me. I want to hear you say the words out loud,” Harper said.
Elise placed her hand on her chest, all dramatic, and said in a voice that wasn’t entirely hers. “I, Elise Clara Mercier, promise never to forget you, Harper Angel.”
The words should’ve hit a sweet spot of relief. But they didn’t.
Harper glanced back over her shoulder at the peaks of canvas tents just peeking over the nearest ridge. The little khaki triangles in a sea of red sand were proof that they weren’t entirely alone.
Good, she thought, because frankly, she was beginning to lose trust in herself. How could she be alone with Elise when she was experiencing these feelings? It was nearly impossible to sit here when her heart was bubbling over, and when every reasonable neuron in her brain was waving a huge red flag, banging pots together, begging her to get a grip.
The only person she should ever feel this way about was her fiancé. Her perfectly lovely fiancé, Harry, who was a boring accountant, who loved gardening and baking scones on Sundays, who wore round-rimmed glasses when his eyes got tired of contact lenses and didn’t care that Harper shouted Stupefy every time he put them on.
Besides, she wasn’t a lesbian. She’d never even kissed a woman. And as far as she knew, Elise wasn’t either.
“Are you alright?” Elise asked, frowning at her. “Because you seem a little off tonight.”
“Do I?” Harper asked.
“Yes,” Elise said. “Did something happen out at the shoot today? You were gone for so long I didn’t think you’d make it back before they started the braai.”
“Nothing happened,” Harper said, which was the truth. Nothing had happened out there at the shoot. Everything had gone perfectly. “I’m fine. I promise.” But she wasn’t. Not really. Not with Elise sitting so close. Not with this unknown and overwhelming feeling swelling like a wave in her chest.
The few remaining flames crackled beside them, and a lazy spray of sparks drifted into the dark sky like tiny, glowing insects. In a few minutes, they’d be alone in the dark.
“Are you sure?” Elise asked, not looking convinced. She leaned in a little, and as she did, her knee brushed Harper’s leg. It was a light, accidental kind of touch. But Harper felt it like a jolt.
“It feels like something’s wrong,” Elise said. Her voice was gentle and meant just for Harper. And that was the problem. Everything Elise did felt meant just for her.
Harper swallowed, but her throat was so tight it felt like she’d swallowed a tablespoon of peanut butter. “I’m fine,” she lied. “Seriously. I don’t know what you’re going on about.” She tried chuckling to lighten the mood. She even thought aboutgetting up and taking a lap around the fire pit. But she didn’t. Instead, the reckless, possibly sun-affected version of herself turned toward Elise fully and said, “I promise I’m fine. Now why don’t you continue complaining about Jimbo and I can help you come up with some solutions.”
For the second time that evening, Elise wasn’t buying it. “You know you can talk to me, right?” she whispered. “You can tell me anything.” Then her eyes dropped very noticeably to Harper’s lips. And that was it. The final straw. The end of Harper’s self-control.
Harper closed the remaining gap between them and found Elise’s mouth in a soft, desperate, barely there kind of kiss. The kind you gave when you were terrified of the consequences, and even more terrified of never knowing what it would feel like if you didn’t.
But then Elise froze. Her breath caught. Shock showed all over her pretty face, and Harper pulled back so fast she felt the air rush through her hair. Seriously. What the hell was she thinking?
“Fuck! I can’t believe I did that,” she said, experiencing that awful, full-body freefall when you patted your pocket and realized your phone was nowhere to be found. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I don’t know what—”
But she didn’t get all the words out because Elise was suddenly kissing her back. There was no hesitation. No confusion. Just a rush of heat and relief as their mouths collided. Harper’s breath hitched against Elise’s lips. She tasted like Windhoek Lager and smoke and cherry ChapStick. Harper had never tasted anything so delicious in her life.
Elise reached for Harper’s jaw. Her touch was so soft, so silky that Harper made a small guttural sound in the back of her throat and prayed Elise didn’t hear it. If she did, she didn’t say anything. She simply grazed her teeth against Harper’s bottomlip while Harper’s hand slid around Elise’s waist and pulled her closer, as if there was even any space between them.
The fire gave one last crackle before collapsing into embers. Harper could barely see Elise anymore, but she could feel her body beneath her fingertips and she could still taste her lips.
It was addictive. Exhilarating. In fact, Harper Angel hadn’t felt this alive in years.
Which was why when Elise suddenly ended the kiss and jumped to her feet, Harper’s chest caved in like someone had taken a mallet to it.
Fuck. Fuckity fuck, fuck.
But before Harper could start mentally berating herself for being so ridiculously out of control, Elise was back, holding out a blanket. “Here,” she said. “Found it on Larry’s chair. That man is always cold. Even in the heat of summer.”
Harper swallowed back her surprise, her relief, and her shock. She took the blanket from Elise before laying it out quickly on a smooth patch of sand. Her fingers were far too shaky for their own good. Actually, her entire body was shaking. Was it nerves? Why was she nervous? Was Elise nervous? She wanted to ask her how she was feeling, but then Elise pushed her back onto the blanket before she could get any words out and then moved above her so that her knees were on either side of Harper’s hips.
For a second, they just stared at each other in the dark. The shapes of their faces were barely even visible. Not that it mattered. Harper had her hands tucked in the creases of Elise’s jean-clad hips, and her body was vibrating with desire. Then Elise bent down and kissed Harper again, with tongue this time. More than anything in life, Harper wanted every part of Elise’s body touching every part of hers.
