Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
E very freaking rain drop that had ever been collected for all time was falling on Miami all at once. Tori circled the airport, her attention darting between the dashboard clock and her text notifications. Mia’s flight should have arrived that afternoon, hours before the surprise welcome home party that had seemed like such a good idea a month ago. A party Tori had planned expecting Mia would have time to decompress before dinner.
But now, hours behind schedule, Tori had been forced to divulge the surprise and make sure Mia wanted to go straight from the airport to shovel chicken piccata in her face. When someone honked at Tori for having the audacity to stop for a pedestrian crossing the walkway to a parking garage, she gritted her teeth instead of flipping them off.
This was not how their long anticipated reunion was supposed to go. She was supposed to whisk Mia home and run a bath with all the essential oils her therapist had turned her on to, and ease her back into a world that had been so dim without her. There was no airport congestion caused by hundreds of delayed flights in her plans—no torrential rain or stress or?—
Mia: Airport transformation complete lol heading your way
Instead of telling Tori that she’d rather postpone the festivities, Mia had insisted she could get ready at the airport. Despite being divorced, Eric had kept her on his fancy airline lounge membership. Tori wouldn’t have believed anything in MIA could be so nice, but the photos of a spa-like, private bathroom complete with shower had looked legit. For the last hour while Tori circled one of the first levels of hell, Mia had made the most of her toiletry bag.
Heart racing, Tori started her final lap around the enormous airport. Palms sweaty and mouth dry, she reminded herself that she wasn’t picking up a stranger. It was Mia. Her Mia. And she was home.
Through sheets of rain pelting the Jeep, a blurry flash of red snagged Tori’s attention. Battling aggressive drivers and irate travelers, she crossed lanes of gridlock to get to Mia. Cutting between a van and a sedan, she wedged her Jeep sideways and parked in a no parking zone that was mercifully protected from the storm.
Mia greeted her with a blinding smile before leaving her suitcase on the curb. In a simple black dress, she ran toward Tori while she was still getting out of the driver’s seat. They met in the glow of the Jeep’s headlights while constant honking along with multilingual curses echoed behind them.
Mia slammed into her so hard Tori stumbled back a step, hands locking around her waist. She moved instinctively, holding Mia close enough to crush. She’d been waiting for this moment since Mia left. Waiting for this weight, this heat.
The chaos washed away. All Tori could hear was the sound Mia made when she buried her face in her neck. The flutter of her breath. The tiny sigh that slipped inside Tori’s chest like a key crafted for a lock.
And then Mia’s lips were on Tori’s, soft and warm and hers.
“I can’t believe this is real.” Mia slipped her fingers through Tori’s hair and pulled her down to another kiss. “Am I really here?” she whispered against Tori’s parched lips.
“You’re here.” Tori took a deep breath, losing and finding herself in Mia’s eyes—in the green vines woven through deep, rich soil. Every time she looked at her, Tori’s heart raced even as her soul settled. It was falling and landing all at once. “And I’m never letting you go again.”
Mia grinned before kissing her again. Desperate. Deep. True. Like she was trying to slash her way through skin and bone to get to the very core of her. Like Tori should tell everyone to have a nice dinner on her while she greedily took Mia for herself.
“Okay,” Mia groaned against Tori’s lips like it hurt to pull away. “We should probably go before you make me do something incredibly inappropriate in public.”
Tori laughed—her first real laugh in months. She bit her bottom lip but it didn’t smother her smile. “I guess voyeurism is a lot for a first time,” she joked.
Eyes springing open in surprise, Mia cackled. “Filthy!” She glanced at Tori’s lips, her throat, the collarbones exposed by her loose button-down shirt. Her hot gaze was a slow unraveling, a peeling back of every thread of Tori’s clothes. Every stitch.
“Hey! Ellen and Melissa!” A man shouted at them from an open passenger window. “You wanna move it along so I can pick up my wife too?”
Tori was about to tell the man that they were moving when Mia beat her to it. “Excuse me?” Mia gasped, face dressed up in insult.
In the space of a racing heartbeat, the heat drained from Tori’s body. Was Mia actually offended? Not at the man, but at being labeled? But then Mia laughed and Tori’s dread disappeared.
“Sir, I am much more of a Sarah Paulson.” With a flourish, Mia grabbed her bag and took Tori’s hand. She interlaced their fingers and held her like a proclamation. Like a booming declaration.
The rain followed them all the way to the Italian restaurant near Mia’s house, but Tori couldn’t find a single fuck to give about being late anymore. When they walked into the private dining room she’d reserved for the occasion, Mia’s hand still in hers, Tori was floating.
At Mia’s return, a dozen people stood and cheered and yelled surprise , even though it was no longer a surprise. Holding the center of attention like a sun at the center of the solar system, Mia shone.
And Tori watched her from the corner where Daniela’s new husband and two other dudes were talking about golf. Comfortable standing back and quietly observing, Tori held the sweating glass of Prosecco someone handed her and locked onto Mia like she was gravity. Her smile the inescapable force of attraction.
God, she was so beautiful when she smiled like that. When she threw her head back and laughed with her whole chest. When she grabbed someone’s face with both hands and kissed their cheeks like she’d been gone for years instead of a few months. She was dazzling. Effortless. Loud in the way Tori could never be—not without rehearsing, not without faking.
Tori’s chest ached with how much she loved her. And how badly she wanted to get the hell out of there.
Not because she didn’t want this. She planned this. But now that Mia was here, right in front of her, all Tori could think about was peeling the black dress over her head and throwing it to the floor. She wanted quiet. She wanted every inch of Mia. Every whisper of her breath. Every drip of her perfume.
Dinner was decent and Tori was happy to nurse her mocktail so that Mia and Daniela and a few others could drink shots like they were still in college. So they could laugh and reminisce and have hangovers tomorrow.
It was easy to slip away from the conversation Tori was barely participating in when she needed a break from the noise. She left the private room to find the server and pay the hefty bill. She was pulling open the door of a single-stall bathroom when Mia came up behind her and pushed her inside.
“What the hell are you doing?” Tori asked with a startled laugh when Mia locked the door behind her.
Mia didn’t speak as she stalked toward her, looking at her like she was starving. She didn’t speak when she pushed Tori against the sink and grabbed her hips, didn’t speak when she crashed her mouth to hers.
Sinking her teeth into Tori’s bottom lip, Mia tugged hard before kissing her again. Before claiming her with her tequila-soaked tongue and her hands on Tori’s belt.
“Mia,” Tori panted, drunk on her kiss and unsure of what she meant to say. Her thoughts were a spiral; her body was on fire.
“If you don’t take me home.” Mia grabbed her by the wrist. “Right fucking now.” She guided Tori’s hand under her dress, her thigh smooth and hot and devastating. “I’m going to die.” She left Tori’s hand under the fabric and kissed her hard enough to bruise.
“I don’t know.” Tori dug her blunt nails into the soft swell of Mia’s ass. “You feel pretty alive to me.”
Mia’s lips twitched against Tori’s hungry mouth. Her fingers in Tori’s hair curling into a tight fist when she pulled her head back. “Take me home,” she repeated like a threat, eyes dark and alive with palpable want.
Fuck .