CHAPTER 7

  Joanna woke to the alarm she had set to go off every morning on her phone. It sounded different this morning though; like it wasn’t in its usual place: plugged in to charge for the night and next to the bottle of water she always kept there. She opened her eyes slowly at first, but then they shot open on their own when she didn’t recognize where she was. It definitely wasn’t her bedroom.

  “Can you shut that off?” She heard a voice she recognized coming from behind her. Her eyes went wider while her eyebrows nearly shot off her forehead entirely. “Jo?” Macon’s hand went to her shoulder and shook it.

  “Sorry.” Joanna reached for the phone she didn’t remember placing there and stopped the incessant ringing. “I don’t remember getting here. I mean, I don’t remember getting into this bed.”

  “You drank a lot.” Macon laughed a little. It was a rough, sleepy laugh that Joanna found she enjoyed. It was different from Macon’s usual laugh, but pleasantly so. “I brought your phone in.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t. I regret my decision. Why is your alarm set for 6 a.m.?” she asked.

  Joanna turned to see Macon lying on her back, rubbing her eyes with both hands.

  “I always have it set for six,” she replied and smiled at the look Macon gave her. “What?” She laughed.

  “Why? You don’t have to go into an office every day anymore.” Macon rolled on her side to face her.

  “Habit, I guess.” Joanna rested her head on her arm, facing Macon. “I do have a nine o’clock shoot, though.”

  “I have rehearsal at nine too,” Macon told her.

  “Thanks for letting me stay over. Sorry I got drunk on you.” Joanna tried not to be embarrassed, but it was hard. She’d rarely got drunk and definitely hadn’t been drunk in front of Macon before. “I didn’t mean to make you have to take care of me.”

  “I didn’t mind.” Macon tossed the blanket off her body.

  Joanna’s eyes flitted to the now bare legs and the shorts that hardly covered them, along with the white t-shirt that had gotten bunched up under her breasts and revealed that incredibly well-toned stomach.

  “You do snore, though.” Macon straightened her shirt and stood.

  “I do not!” Joanna sat up.

  Macon laughed as she stretched her limbs next to the bed.

  “You don’t.” She smiled. “I was kidding. I’m going to hop in the shower, since I’m up at six when I could have slept in for another two hours.” She glared playfully at Joanna.

  “Sorry.” Joanna wrinkled her eyebrows together. “I should have turned it off.”

  “Make it up to me by mixing up one of those fancy espresso drinks?” she asked with a hopeful expression.

  Joanna nodded and watched as Macon headed toward the bathroom to take her shower. Joanna stretched her own body and then climbed out of bed just in time to hear the shower start. She made her way to where Macon had laid her clothes out for her on the dresser, changed, and placed Macon’s clothes on the bed, folded nicely, before heading into the kitchen to make the coffee. As she ground the beans, she considered what was going on in the other room. Macon was naked in the shower. She was under hot, running water, rubbing soap over her skin. Maybe she used a shower gel instead. Joanna wondered what scent while she started to steam the milk, and decided the next time she was in the bathroom, she’d move the curtain aside to check.

  She waited while the espresso poured and then made her latte art without thinking. When she looked down at her design, her eyes went big for the second time that morning. She considered covering up what she’d done but heard the shower stop running and sat the cup down quickly, left the milk container in the sink, and practically ran to her purse to toss her phone inside, slid on her shoes, and headed out of the apartment. Once she hit the street, she sent Macon a text, apologizing that she had to run, and made it to her own apartment about fifteen minutes later.

  She showered herself and tried not to think about waking up next to Macon. She had a distinct memory of Macon pulling her up off the sofa and sliding her into bed, tucking her in for the night. She also had a memory of rolling over and staring at her sleeping form for several minutes before falling back to sleep and later waking again at six.

  She’d woken in the middle of the night, wondering where she was for the first time, realizing she was in Macon’s bed, having a momentary freak-out, and then rolling over to see her sleeping. She’d woken up because she was hot. Her skin was hot. She was sweating for some reason, despite the room being perfectly comfortable. It took her a second to recall the reason she’d woken up in sweat, and when she did, she’d rolled away from Macon. Macon was the reason she’d woken in that sweat.

  The movie the night before hadn’t exactly been what Joanna had expected. Truthfully, she hadn’t known what to expect. She’d never seen a lesbian film. She’d seen movies with lesbians in them, or TV shows with gay characters, but she’d never watched a movie geared toward lesbians, with two female leads that fell in love and expressed that love very graphically on a giant flat screen a few feet away from her face while she happened to have her head on the shoulder of one of her best friends, who was also a lesbian and quite possibly had a crush on her, if the rumors were to be believed.

  She’d tried to keep things light between the two of them by taking Macon to 7Ups and playing silly games, but even that had gotten serious when Keira had arrived. She thought food and an action film would return them to their fun mood, but then action had turned to romance, and she’d watched two women going to town on each other while she felt Macon pressed into her side. She’d considered moving away at first but thought that would be obvious and make Macon uncomfortable or make her think Joanna had a problem with what the women were doing, which she didn’t. She had no problem with what two women did to one another. She’d never put all that much thought into it, but then she met Emma, and later Macon, and she became close.

  As she started hanging out with Macon, Emma, Keira, Hillary, and more lesbians, she heard a little more about things from them. She’d heard a woman whisper loudly into Macon’s ear what she wanted to do to her later as they stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender to deliver their drinks. The woman mentioned her fingers thrusting deep inside and her tongue pressing hard. Joanna had pretended she hadn’t heard any of that, while her skin turned a deep shade of red that was thankfully unseen due to the dim lighting of the club.

  When she saw the expression on the woman’s face in the movie – how much she was enjoying the other between her legs doing something Joanna couldn’t exactly see clearly, while playing with one of her nipples with her fingers – Joanna grew hot then, too. Her body registered that it was probably normal for her to have that kind of reaction. She was a sexual being. She had urges, and those urges hadn’t been fulfilled in a long time. She thought about that as she changed into her clothes for the day. The last time she’d had sex, had she felt like that woman in the movie? Had she made those sounds, those moans and gasps in surprise? Had she been driven to an explosion so intense, her hips had lifted off the mattress and then stayed there until guided back down by an arm over her hips? No, none of that had happened.

  Macon had been the reason she’d woken in a sweat in the middle of the night. But she considered, it wasn’t really Macon. It was the movie. The movie had caused the dream she’d experienced that rocketed her awake around three in the morning. That dream had been so real. It was one of the most visceral dreams she’d ever experienced. And at first, when she’d woken, she thought the dream was just a replay of the film: one actress was between the other actress’s legs. But the sounds seemed familiar. They seemed that way because they were her sounds. Well, they were her sounds, but they were louder and more expressive than she remembered. She’d thought back to the dream while staring at Macon. She recalled that Macon had been the woman between her legs. It was Joanna’s body, with Macon doing things to her. She knew this to be the case because in the dream, Macon had paused to look up at her, and Joanna would know those eyes anywhere.

  She grabbed her gear and met her Uber driver outside at eight, since the drive at that time would take a little longer due to morning rush hour. As she settled into the backseat, arranging her camera bag next to her, her phone buzzed. It was a text from Macon, thanking her for the coffee and asking her to After Dark the following night. She thought back to the vision of Macon between her legs and shook her head. She replied and stared back out the window toward the traffic ahead.

  ◆◆◆

  Greene frowned at Joanna’s text. She’d turned her down, claiming she had to work, but she hadn’t mentioned a Thursday night shoot to her. Greene stood in her living room with her violin case over her shoulder, considering the night they’d shared and the morning they’d woken up, too. She hadn’t expected eighty percent of what had happened in the previous fifteen or so hours. She should have just put on an action movie like they’d planned. She should have tried to stop Joanna from drinking that much, so she would have been able to go home. She’d fallen asleep next to the woman, and it was right before that she’d had to admit something to herself. She had feelings for Joanna Martin. She did. She had feelings for her. If she’d spent more time thinking about it, though, she would have admitted to herself that she didn’t merely have feelings for Jo. She was falling for her. Hell, she’d been falling for her probably since the beginning.

  She stared down at the response on her phone and tried to think about what to message back. She could reply with an understanding message and leave it at that, but that wasn’t Greene’s style. Whenever Jo turned her down for something or was equivocating, Greene gave her a hard time. She was often rewarded with Jo’s attendance. That was what she’d normally do in this case. She’d already gotten their tickets. Since she’d finally gotten real with herself about her feelings for the straight woman in her bed, she wasn’t sure what normal was for her anymore.

  She found the whole thing confusing. She knew Jo was off limits. She was straight and attracted to men. Greene wasn’t a man. It should have been that simple, but Greene’s heart and mind wouldn’t let it go as she made her way to rehearsal. There were moments where Greene wondered, and she hated herself because of it. That previous night, for example, she’d woken around one with Joanna’s body pressed to her side. Jo’s arm was over her stomach. And even though the woman’s head wasn’t on her shoulder but next to it, Joanna’s lips were pressed to it. She could feel Joanna’s breath against her arm, and she kept herself very still. She didn’t want the contact to end.

  In the morning, she’d woken up with her body pressed to Joanna’s back and with her arm slung over her body. She must have done it instinctively, feeling the presence of another body in her bed. And, as soon as she’d realized it, she’d slowly extracted herself. Five minutes later, the alarm had sounded. Fifteen minutes after that, she’d made her way out of the bathroom, expecting to find Joanna on her sofa. But instead, she had a text message and a coffee cup with a heart etched into the foam.

  ◆◆◆

  Joanna wrapped her shoot around eleven and headed home. She arrived at 11:30, downloaded her photos, and made herself some lunch. She headed into the Worthy Bash office and met with two potential clients before sitting at her borrowed desk for a couple of hours, editing and working on her website. By 6:30, she felt off, and it took her only about ten seconds to figure out why. She picked up her phone and noticed the lack of messages from Macon. These days, they rarely went more than a few hours between messages. She clicked on Macon’s name and scrolled up to reveal their most recent exchange. She continued scrolling as she smiled at some of the things they’d sent back and forth.

  “Hey, you want to grab some dinner?” Keira asked.

  “Huh?” Joanna looked up with what was undoubtedly a goofy smile on her face.

  “What’s got you all smiley?” Keira pointed at her.

  “What?”

  “Can you no longer speak in complete sentences?” Keira laughed. “Wait! Are you perhaps texting back and forth with Russell, the one you’re just not attracted to?”

  “What? No.”

  “Then, who? Who’s the new mystery man that’s got you smiling?”

  “Why does it have to be a mystery man?” She stuck her phone in her purse and stood.

  “I guess it doesn’t.” Keira seemed to be taking the hint. “Anyway, dinner? Emma’s got a work thing tonight, and I’m starving.”

  “Oh, sure,” she agreed.

  “I’d say call Greene, but she probably won’t want to come if I’m there.”

  “What is going on with you two?” Joanna shouldered her bag, and they headed toward the elevator.

  “It’ll blow over.” Keira gave a non-answer and pressed the elevator button.

  “She’s been acting strangely ever since,” Joanna said. “Call me crazy, but I liked the old Macon. I’d like her back. So, can you fix it?” she asked as they walked into the elevator.

  “She’s acting strangely? How so?”

  “I don’t know,” Joanna replied. “She just sees you, and her good mood turns bad.”

  “Oh, that’s all?” Keira looked at the shiny floor of the elevator as they descended.

  “Sorry.”

  “No, it’s my fault.” Keira looked back up at her. “I was honestly trying to help, but I overstepped. Did you tell her I apologize?”

  “I tried; she changed the subject to the movie we were going to watch.”

  “Movie?” Keira stepped off once the doors opened.

  “Yeah, I went to her place, and we watched a movie,” Joanna explained and followed her out. “I dropped it, because I didn’t want to put her in that mood again. I like when she’s in a good mood.”

  Keira gave her a sideways glance as they made their way outside.

  “She’s pretty great, huh?”

  “Yeah, she is,” Joanna affirmed. “She’s like an iceberg in human form.”

  “How so?” Keira laughed. “And want to hit up Max’s?”

  “Sure,” she said about the restaurant down the block. “And, I don’t know… I feel like there’s this surface Macon, and then there’s still seventy-five percent of her she doesn’t let anyone see.”

  “But she lets you see it?” Keira asked.

  “I’m chipping away little by little.” Joanna smiled at the thought.

  “And you like that? Chipping?”

  “I do, yeah.” Joanna shrugged her shoulders. “I like getting to know her more. I feel like there’s even more to it than that, though. It’s like she lets people believe things about her even if they’re not true.”

  “Like what?” Keira turned and stopped walking.

  “I don’t think it’s my place to tell.” Joanna stopped beside her.

  “I guess not.” Keira began walking again. Joanna joined her. “But is there anything I should worry about?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Outside of our little spat we’re currently in, she’s never said anything to me about people believing things that aren’t true. Am I… Have I said something or–”

  “Maybe, when the two of you make up, you can ask her,” she interrupted. “If it’s important to her, I’m sure she’ll talk to you.”

  “She talks to you now,” Keira replied a little wistfully.

  “What?”

  “She doesn’t talk to me how she used to. She talks to you now. I guess I’ve done the same with Emma, though. You meet someone, and then–” She stopped herself and turned her head toward the street, as if trying to avoid Joanna’s gaze. “Anyway, it’s a part of growing up, I guess.”

  “Aren’t we kind of already grown?” Joanna suggested.

  “You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” Keira laughed. “Come on. I’m buying.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Greene made herself dinner and ate it at the dining room table, desiring a change from eating in front of the TV. When she finished, she took her time doing the dishes and then took that nice, long bath she’d been craving. She dressed for bed and reached for her violin. She played for an hour, focusing on the pieces for the orchestra’s performances, and then she played something that had no sheet music. It had no rhyme or reason to it either. She just played. She never just played. She liked her sheet music. She liked the organized nature of the music and rarely deviated from the structure, thoughtfully and carefully crafted. She felt like there was a reason this music was played often years after the composer’s death.

  However, tonight was different. She felt like she might be able to coax something out of her instrument without the structure and without the knowledge of the notes that came next. She played and played. The music she created turned from happy and fast to somber and slow before she forced it back into the fast pace with the intention of changing her own mood. When it didn’t work like it normally did, she lowered the violin and looked at the clock under the TV. It was past eleven.

  She checked her phone once before she closed her eyes and found she had three texts from Joanna checking on her. She replied that she’d been rehearsing, so she hadn’t heard the phone – which was true. Then, she followed that one up with one about being tired and going to sleep.

  When Greene woke the next morning, she had two messages from her in reply. The first one told her she should talk to Keira. The second message asked if she wanted to come with her later to her shoot. Joanna was going to head out into the woods and take some nature shots. Greene had gone with her a few times. They’d hiked and talked while Jo had snapped some shots along the way. Greene wasn’t sure she was up for a hike when she also had After Dark with Keira, Emma, and Hillary. It was their monthly ritual, and she’d always loved it in the past. There was a part of her that just didn’t want to go tonight. She’d been particularly excited about it given the theme, but she’d also wanted Joanna there, and Joanna wasn’t going to be in attendance. Greene texted back that she didn’t feel like a hike today and readied for work.