Page 132 of The Right Kind of Wrong

“You can do this,” Blake insisted.

Monroe bit her lip. “Do you think that us being publicly out will make things harder for her?” she asked, her voice quiet, edged with hesitation.

“It can’t be harder than her growing up thinking that people should be ashamed of things that they can’t help.” That was, at the bare minimum, one thing Blake was certain about. She added with an earnest smile, “Plus, everyone’s embarrassed about their parents in some way. It’s a rite of passage.”

Monroe blinked, then softened against Blake. “God, I really am like her parent,” she groaned, nuzzling into Blake’s neck.

Blake laughed. “Yeah. Now who’s oblivious?”

Leaning back, Monroe nipped at Blake’s earlobe, sending a shudder through her. “In my defense, I’ve been a little preoccupied lately.”

Monroe’s words shot straight to Blake’s center. Yeah, she’d been preoccupied, too.

But she wouldn’t do a single thing differently.

People like Monroe didn’t waltz into her life every day. Principled. Talented. Kind. Determined. Sexy as all hell.

Blake scratched at Monroe’s neck. “We should get back in there. Holland’s probably about to call a search party.”

Instead of moving, Monroe slid her thigh between Blake’s, pressing her harder against the wall. She nipped at Blake’s neck, placing light, scraping kisses against her hot skin.

And just like that, Blake was ready to disappear into the night with Monroe, to anywhere that would allow her to alleviate the growing pressure already begging for relief.

“I was thinking that when we go home, I could come back to your house for a while. Denny will still be with Maisie.”

Blake swallowed. She liked the idea of that very much, and her teasing words rolled easily from her lips. “It’s a date.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.” Holland tracked them as they drew closer to the table, Monroe’s hand pressed into the small of Blake’s back.

She liked touching Blake like this, out in public.

It had never seemed like something she would find especially important, but she did, she was realizing.

She slid onto her stool and pulled it toward Blake, who was doing the same. They bumped into one another and laughed, working quickly to reset their seats.

Holland lifted her eyebrows. “I’m glad that you two have worked through whatever was making it awkward as all hell in here earlier.” She leaned forward. “Did you kiss and make up?”

Blake blushed, but Monroe sat up straighter, taking Blake’s hand underneath the table. “We did, actually.”

She loved the way that Blake interlaced their fingers, giving Monroe’s hand a squeeze.

She’d always thought of herself and Sylvia as a team, but it had never been like this. Sylvia had never made her feel like she was on solid footing just by existing. Or by taking Monroe’s hand and holding her close, letting her know that she was here.

Holland slammed her hands down on the table. “Thank god. I am an excellent third wheel but not when there’s drama.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Blake said, sweetly attempting to defend Monroe.

Monroe had to admit, “No, it really was that bad. I’m sorry. I just had different hopes for tonight that were a little bit more . . . romantic, I suppose. Only, I didn’t let Blake know that.”

Denny would be so fucking proud of her right now, of how much she was sharing.

Holland pointed at herself. “You’re telling me that I really am the third wheel?”

Monroe shook her head. “No, I’m glad that you’re here. It forced me to be more honest about my feelings than I’m used to, but it was wholly necessary.”

Then, she looked love-sickeningly at Blake, who was, to Monroe’s delight, matching her energy.