Chapter Twenty
Chapter
Twenty
Daphne handed over her ID to a person named Stone, along with thirty bucks she couldn’t really afford to part with, but there was no way she was missing her first play party.
“You’re all set,” Stone said, offering their IDs back to Sasha, who tossed them over to April and Daphne, and not very respectively.
Daphne glanced down at April’s smiling face on the New Hampshire ID, her hair a bit longer with crimson tips.
She looked younger, slightly softer. Daphne wondered if she’d been with Elena then.
Daphne held out the card to April, their fingers brushing, eyes meeting as Daphne felt her own ID slide into her palm.
They hadn’t really talked since their moment on the dock last night.
She couldn’t imagine what April’s best friend must think of her.
It was such a weird situation, and Daphne didn’t blame April for not knowing how to handle it.
She herself felt so discombobulated after Ramona and April had gone back to the house for dinner that she’d answered a call from Elena without a second thought.
“Hi,” she’d said, her eyes still on April and Ramona as they walked away.
“Hi, yourself,” Elena said. Daphne exhaled as soon as she heard her voice, muscle memory at work. Despite what had happened with April, despite the truth of who and what Elena was, she knew Daphne. Knew her through and through, and that settled around Daphne’s heart like a hug.
“How are you?” Elena asked.
Daphne had lain down on the dock, staring up at the sky with the phone pressed to her ear.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Bad night?”
“Just…weird. Confusing.”
“Sounds like you need some cinnamon tea,” Elena said softly. “And a bath with those bombs you like. The vetiver ones.”
“Vetiver and wood sage,” Daphne said.
“Yeah,” Elena said. “I still have some.”
“You didn’t throw them out?”
Elena sighed. “I couldn’t.”
Daphne’s eyes stung, and she hated it. She hated how Elena could still do this to her, melt her entire soul and heart with just a few stupid words about bath bombs.
“Why did you break up with me?” she asked. It was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
“Daphne,” Elena said gently.
“Just tell me,” Daphne said. “Please. Was there someone else?”
“No.”
“Right,” Daphne said, laughing mirthlessly. “And how am I supposed to believe you after what you did to April?”
“I never spoke to April again after we split up,” Elena said sharply. “If there was someone else, we wouldn’t be on the phone right now, Daphne.”
Daphne sucked in a breath, a strange mix of disgust and horrible relief.
“Then tell me,” she said, pushing through it.
Elena exhaled loudly. “Honestly?”
Daphne didn’t answer, and Elena was quiet for a long time.
“I don’t know,” Elena said finally. “I felt stuck. We felt stuck. And I wasn’t sure what to do about it except blow it all up.”
Daphne let that settle between them, readied herself to say goodbye, but then Elena kept talking.
“I never should have done it. I never should have let you go,” she said.
A whisper. A bomb exploding.
Daphne sat up quickly, her stomach undulating unpleasantly, and she had no idea how to respond.
How she felt.
What she thought.
The words blurred together, and she realized her eyes were filling with tears, and she didn’t understand that either.
Elena had put her through hell—her coldness during the last year of their relationship, always denying anything was wrong when Daphne asked, the constant gaslighting, all followed by an abrupt breakup after a beautiful date at Daphne’s favorite restaurant, accompanied with the courtesy of calling Daphne a Lyft once she’d finished packing.
There’d been no conversation.
There’d been no transition period.
There was only I think we both know it’s time to end this, followed by a gentle request for her apartment key.
And now, after all that, Elena wanted to take it back. There was a thrill in that, for sure. Daphne felt a sense of relief she wished didn’t exist, the simple joy of being wanted.
But in the middle of everything, there was a knowing. Sudden and bright, like the first flash of lightning of a gathering summer storm.
She didn’t love Elena Watson. In fact, she didn’t think she’d loved her for a while, months before they’d even broken up. Daphne had needed her. Needed someone, and that was very different from want. From love and passion and desire.
“I have to go,” Daphne had said, and then ended the call before Elena could respond.
She stared at her phone’s screen for a second, the lake lapping gently at the dock.
And maybe it was the summer night, the swirl of feelings in her stomach about April, or maybe she was just tired of being stuck in a cycle she knew wasn’t good for her.
Elena wasn’t good for her.
She tapped on Elena’s information, then selected Block Caller. She deleted Elena’s number and email from her contacts and slipped her phone back into her pocket before standing up and walking back to the house.
And she felt…good.
She felt lighter and hopeful. There was a sadness there too, losing Elena all over again, but it was a cleansing sort of pain, like cutting an infection from her body.
Later, on the drive back to Cloverwild, she and April were silent, but the atmosphere felt charged, a million things between them that Daphne wasn’t sure how to talk about.
Now, nearly twenty-four hours later, she stood in a Victorian house with a literal sex dungeon in the basement, and she was determined to make the most of it.
“Oh, wow, those are boobs,” she said as the three of them walked into the living room. She pressed close to Sasha, who laughed.
“And thank god for it,” she said, arms folded. She was dressed in her usual tight white tee and tight black jeans.
Daphne tried not to stare at the person with soft brown skin on the puffy couch, who was wearing a sort of harness-like top comprised of black braided ropes, which knotted together between their two small breasts.
Sparkly black discs covered their nipples, so it wasn’t as though they were fully tits out, and they sat serenely talking to a person with curly red hair who was wearing a navy maxi dress.
Still, the shock of all that skin made Daphne keenly aware that she’d never experienced anything like this before.
She watched the couple for a second, both of them at ease and sipping on cans of sparkling water, until the person in the harness locked eyes with Daphne.
“Oh god, oh god,” she whispered, looking down and grabbing Sasha’s arm. She was giddy with nerves. Or maybe excitement. Horniness? God, probably all three at once.
“Okay, Pollyanna, you’ve got to relax,” Sasha said. “We’re not even to the good stuff yet.”
“I know,” Daphne said, forcing her eyes up. Granted, she didn’t dare glance back at the couch. “I’m fine. This is fine.”
“You don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable,” April said softly.
Daphne glanced at her and quickly found herself staring.
April looked gorgeous tonight. Her iridescent hair was parted on the side and swooping over her forehead, the ends just brushing her shoulder.
Her eye makeup was heavy, as usual, but it looked so good on her, and she’d paired it with a lilac-amber eye shadow and burgundy lips.
Also, she had on black leather pants.
Black leather pants and a lacy, Victorian-esque black top. Daphne wasn’t even aware she was into leather pants, but as it turned out, she was.
Very into them.
She had to focus to keep from staring at April’s ass every chance she got.
For herself, Daphne had struggled with a clothing choice, as her summer wardrobe consisted mostly of sundresses and solid-colored tees.
She’d ended up choosing a plain black cocktail dress she used to wear to gallery functions—black seemed best for a play party, though she truly had no idea—with spaghetti straps, a squared neckline, and a simple skirt that hit mid-thigh.
“I want to be here,” Daphne said, holding April’s gaze. “I just need a second to adjust.”
“Atta girl,” Sasha said, nudging her arm. “Plus, there’s no pressure to do anything. Some people just sit and talk. Some make out. Some play with sensation using feathers and thumpers.”
“Thumpers?” Daphne asked.
“Other people just come here for a cuddle puddle,” Sasha went on. “And some…well, some do more than all that.” She shrugged, dark blue eyes glittering and shifting from Daphne to April and back to Daphne. “Just depends on what you want.”
Daphne nodded, swallowed thickly. She didn’t even understand some of the words Sasha used to describe the party, but that was okay.
That was the point. She had no idea if she’d want to do anything at all—honestly, the idea of kissing a total stranger was both alluring and horrifying—but Sasha was right.
She had to relax.
“Let’s go downstairs,” Daphne said.
April lifted her lovely dark brows. “You don’t want to ease into it?”
“I think she just did,” Sasha said, winking at the person on the couch.
They grinned back, revealing very cute dimples and a charming gap between their teeth.
Sasha’s wink escalated into that one-side-of-her-mouth grin, and Daphne had the distinct feeling she wouldn’t be acting as tour guide for very long.
“I think I did too,” Daphne said, pushing Sasha and April toward the stairs that led to the basement. They both headed down them without hesitation, and Daphne forced herself to follow, despite her pounding heart and clammy palms.