Chapter Seventeen
Chapter
Seventeen
They drove toward town, the night dark and starry around them.
They’d cleaned up the brushes and paint and palette quickly, leaving their canvases in the art room to dry for now.
April had taken the drop cloth, though, spreading it over her car’s driver and passenger seats so she and Daphne wouldn’t leave paint everywhere, but honestly, she wasn’t sure she cared all that much at this point.
She wasn’t sure she cared about anything, and it felt good. She wasn’t numb, exactly, just blissfully empty. Cleaned out. All her emotions thrown at the canvas, all of her worry and hurt and loneliness.
And she was glad to have done it with Daphne.
Glad to laugh with her as they slung paint, glad to cry, glad to be in this car with her right now, heading toward Mirror Cove.
Any emotions she did have left were focused on the woman next to her, paint covered and smiling, the wind from the open window licking through her lavender hair.
April wasn’t sure what the emotions were, only that they existed.
She pulled into the public beach lot near the cove, threw the car into park. “We’re going to have to walk for a second,” she said as she unclipped her seat belt. “Is that okay?”
“I go where you go,” Daphne said, smiling at her in the dark. April smiled too, but something about those simple words—silly words, even—made her stomach flutter, her heart swelling in her chest.
Her phone buzzed in her bag, but she ignored it as she got out of the car. She knew it was Ramona, but right now, she just couldn’t.
She rounded the car and, before she could really think about what she was doing, held out her paint-splattered hand to Daphne.
Daphne’s eyes widened a little, but she tangled her fingers with April’s.
This was the third time they’d held hands tonight, and it felt almost natural and easy, even though she knew there was nothing natural and easy about the two of them.
They were a rare event, like a super blue blood moon or Halley’s Comet, flaring in the sky and then gone.
April led them to the woods in front of the lot, then onto a lesser-walked trail.
“I feel like someone just yelled ‘action’ on a horror film set,” Daphne said as she stumbled next to April, ducking when a branch nearly swiped her across the face.
April laughed. “I said it was a wild idea.”
“So I should expect someone with a bloody machete at the end of the trail?”
“Something like that,” April said, squeezing Daphne’s hand playfully.
Daphne squeezed back, and soon, the trees parted.
The lake here was very still and clear, and the moon played hide-and-seek with the clouds, shedding silver onto the water before covering it back over with shadows.
The area was deserted, the rocks in the water and along the beach making for a precarious swim, and most summer people didn’t even know this cove existed.
But April knew it by heart.
So did Ramona and Dylan, as it was where they’d first met, but before that, before the Hollywood romance captured Clover Lake’s hearts and minds, Mirror Cove was April’s.
Ramona’s and April’s, really, a place they’d go as kids to tell secrets, to get away from pressures in their homes, to be seen and understood.
She’d never even brought Elena here. Elena hated beaches, claiming that sand was just a beachy word for dirt, and she hated the feel of it between her toes, the way it hid in every nook and cranny.
“Are you ready for a swim?” April asked as she pulled Daphne onto the tiny beach and released her hand.
Daphne’s brows lifted. “We don’t have bathing suits.”
April laughed. “I believe skinny-dipping was on your list, was it not?”
Daphne’s eyes grew round. “Skinny-dipping.” Her gaze dropped down to April’s mouth, and April felt her own face redden.
She didn’t blush easily, but right now, with the word skinny-dipping floating between them, coupled with the dance and the kiss and all the hand-holding of the evening, heat pooled into her cheeks.
And a few other places.
She shook that off, though, and focused on the actual task.
“We need to clean up anyway,” she said, but then felt her stomach plummet as Daphne continued to stand there looking uncertain. “Only if you want to, of course.”
Daphne shifted her feet in the sand, her mouth slightly parted.
And April felt ridiculous.
Because this was ridiculous. A super blue blood moon at all the wrong times, in all the wrong ways, which didn’t even make sense, but that was how April suddenly felt. Not embarrassed, necessarily. Just…unaligned.
Out of place in the sky.
“Never mind,” she said, shaking her head. “This was silly. We can just—”
“No, wait,” Daphne said, her hand on April’s arm. She squeezed once before letting go and then pulling off her dress in one fell swoop.
All of April’s breath left her lungs.
Daphne’s hair settled around her bare shoulders, the straps of a yellow—though maybe it was white, as it was hard to tell in the dim light—bralette still arching over her collarbones.
And they were lovely collarbones. Elegant and spotted with dried paint, dipping in the middle right where Daphne’s throat moved as she swallowed.
April had always had a bit of a thing for collarbones, and Daphne’s were perfect.
As was everything about her, really. April tried not to stare, she really did, but they’d already kissed, already pressed their bodies together in ways she never did with anyone she wasn’t about to sleep with, so now, actually seeing her like this was…
It was a super blue blood moon.
And Daphne hovered in the sky, letting April look at her as much as she wanted—the way the cotton of her bralette rounded over her small breasts, the softness of her stomach, the mismatched blue underwear, one side hitched up a little higher on her hip than the other.
April didn’t dare move her eyes lower—couldn’t, or she might really lose her shit.
And goddess, there were so many reasons not to. For starters, Daphne was eight years younger than April. Secondly, hugely, she was Daphne fucking Love. She’d been April’s silent ghost for so long now, a haunting. A myth, or even a legend. Anything but flesh and blood.
Thirdly…there had to be a third reason, right? And probably a fourth, at the very least. But right now, as they stood in Mirror Cove together, Daphne was so real, and so beautiful, and so sweet, that all those reasons flew right out of April’s head.
“Your turn,” Daphne said, tilting her head a little, a tiny smile on her full lips.
April blinked, her stomach now catapulting into her throat, a blush spreading past her cheeks and over her chest. This was her idea, dammit. She’d gotten naked with practical strangers before, she could certainly strip down to her undies.
She shucked her pants down her legs, fighting her feet out of them by stomping in the sand.
Daphne laughed but went silent when April’s fingers went to her top.
Because they both knew—Daphne had to know, right?
—that April wasn’t wearing a bra. Her top was off the shoulder, nary a strap in sight.
Granted, it was dark, but the moon was also pretty damn bright.
Her hands trembled a little, but she kept her eyes on Daphne, whose expression was unreadable.
April did it fast.
Whipped the top over her head, let it drop into the sand.
Daphne’s mouth parted, eyes dropping down quickly before lifting back up to April’s face.
“Beautiful,” she said.
And that was it.
That was all she needed to say, really, all April wanted in this moment. She reached out and took Daphne’s hand—for the fourth time, no less—and pulled her toward the water.
“Stay close to me to avoid the rocks,” she said, and Daphne did, the bare skin of her torso brushing against April’s. They splashed into the lake, and Daphne cried out.
“Holy shit, it’s cold,” she yelled.
“Another swear,” April said, laughing and pulling her deeper. The water was up to her thighs now. “I am scandalized, Ms. Love.”
“I don’t cuss often,” Daphne said. Her teeth chattered, and it was pretty fucking cute. “Only when—”
She cut herself off, but April kept moving until they were deep enough that there were no rocks on the bottom and the water covered her bare chest. She let Daphne go and turned to look at her. “Only when what?”
Daphne just smiled, the moon glinting off her teeth.
“Tell me,” April said, laughing.
“No,” Daphne said, laughing too and splashing April gently.
April lifted her brows. “You do not want to get in a water fight with me, Love.”
Daphne tilted her head. “I think I do.”
April splashed her immediately, aiming the water right below her face to collide with her neck and chest.
Daphne flinched, but laughed, sending a wave of water back toward April.
Soon it was nothing but splashes and shrieking as they flicked and slapped and threw water at each other.
Finally, April ducked beneath the surface and swam to grab Daphne by the waist and pull her under too.
They twisted and spun, limbs tangling in a sort of aquatic wrestling match before they both came up to the surface.
“I think I grabbed your boob,” Daphne said, spluttering and wiping at her face. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, I think I would’ve remembered that,” April said, laughing.
Daphne grinned, then swam a little closer, the water up to her chin, her hair dark purple and slicked back, floating around her shoulders. Her gaze was intense, and April sucked in a breath, not sure what was about to happen.
“So who won the battle?” Daphne asked, a teasing lilt to her tone. She was close enough now that April could see the green of her eyes, even in the darkness.
“I think it’s a t—”
But April’s words were cut off as she was yanked under the water, Daphne’s hands silky around her hips before letting her go, there and then gone. April surfaced with her mouth pursed, flicking the water from her eyes dramatically.
“I won,” Daphne said smugly.