Chapter 02 ARYA
“Shit, sorry!”
I jerk the handlebars on my rental scooter hard, nearly clipping the edge of the sidewalk. My wheels skid over slick pavement and raindrops splash my eyeballs, blurring my vision.
“Sorry!“
I call again, even though the guy I almost plowed into is already halfway down the block—and flipping me off over his shoulder. Which I return in earnest because fuck him for being in my way.
I should have been at this bakery downtown five minutes ago, and the sky decided to piss on me. My fault, probably, for trusting the clear weather when I left my place, but why the hell is this state so… wet? Always, all the time! And there's never any parking!
Why did I move here, again?
Finally, the bakery comes into view—a small shop with white brick walls. The Puget Sound sends a wave of ocean air over my skin as I hop off my scooter and shake out my wet hair. The cute curls I'd spent forever on this morning are limp and frizzy.
With a frown, I glance down at my summer dress, and tears fill my eyes when I notice how completely ruined the thin material is. It's completely soaked, the dye on the red cherries oozing down the fabric like blood. Beneath it, my hot-pink bra is visible and everything.
“No, no,“
I sob, wiping my face only to find mascara covering my fingertips. “Just my fucking luck.”
Seriously, can't one thing go right for me? Ever since leaving Utah, it feels like I've run into one disaster after another.
Stifling a sniffle, I tighten the grip on my purse and enter the shop, feeling like a miserable sack of wet dog food. A bell chimes overhead as I step inside, announcing my humiliation to the entire room. Every head within a five-foot radius turns.
Great.
I freeze just inside the doorway, rain dripping off the hem of my dress and pooling at my feet. The scent of fresh-baked bread and sugar cookies tickle my nostrils, further driving home the fact that I'm starving.
“Hi,“
a girl behind the counter says gently, already reaching for some napkins. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,“
I lie, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks. Ugh.
She winces sympathetically and slides me the entire stack, which tells me everything I need to know about how bad I must look.
I dab at my face, then give up entirely when the thin napkins only stick to my wet skin. “I’m here for the… photography thing?”
Her face brightens. “Oh! Yeah, you’re right on time. She’s just setting up in the back.”
My flats squelch against the tile with each step I take. Honestly, the place is adorable—warm lighting, long wooden tables, a chalkboard menu. Everything smells delicious, which is rude, because your girl is broke as fuck.
Tell me why I moved to Seattle again?
I smooth down my dress—which does absolutely nothing—and let out a shaky breath before entering the backroom. It’s a small, intimate event space, complete with a few photography umbrellas. Soft fairy lights twinkle overhead, and an antique buffet table sits near the back wall, its scuffed wood painted pastel pink.
On top of it are little porcelain teacups with floral patterns. Tiny spoons are laid out like a tea party and there’s even a small spread of treats—mini pastries, shortbread cookies, and slices of pie. My stomach growls loudly.
Why is there always food when I’m trying not to cry?
“You must be Arya,“
comes a warm voice to my right, and I turn to see Sadie, the photographer, smiling at me. I recognize her long caramel strands from the social media ad. When she takes in my appearance, the happiness drops from her face. “Oh, it looks like you got caught in a little rain.”
Immediately, and instantaneously, I burst into tears. “I'm so sorry. The sky was blue when I left, and I don't have a car. Not that it would matter because the nearest parking garage is miles away, and what's with that? Salt Lake City has them everywhere. Why are your streets so small and crowded? And why is it always raining?”
Sadie’s dark brown eyes widen as she grabs a jacket off the back of a chair to toss around my shoulders. “Hey, it's alright. We can always reschedule, though your stranger is already here—”
Someone steps out from behind one of the lighting umbrellas next to us. “Arya?”
My spine snaps straight as I slowly spin in place.
Oh, perfect. This is just the cherry on top of a sopping wet cake that is me because the hottie from work—who I never saw again after the coffee incident three days ago—is staring straight at me. And she looks like a goddess.
“Olivia, hi,“
I breathe, trying to smile even though my chin trembles. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Deep red lips curve into a gentle smile, matching the burgundy gown that hugs her every curve. “I thought I recognized your voice.”
“You did?“
That does absolutely nothing to help my emotional stability.
Olivia nods, glancing down at my soaked dress and the jacket that Sadie wrapped around my shoulders. “I mean, not because you’re… crying,“
she rushes to add. “Obviously. I just… the other day was quite memorable.”
“That’s one word for it,“
I scoff, wiping my eyes. “Seems every time we meet, I end up wet.”
We both freeze, blinking at one another until a giggle bubbles out of my throat, which I try to apologize for through my laughter.
“Well! This is actually kind of perfect,“
Sadie says with a pretty grin. “The fact that you know each other should help you both relax.”
I huff as I look down at myself. “Maybe if I didn't look like a drowned rat.”
Olivia shakes her head, blonde waves brushing her delicate jaw. “You look gorgeous. But here, if this will help…”
She heads toward the door, exiting the bakery entirely and leaving Sadie and me to blink after her in confusion.
“Scared her off already,“
I sniffle forlornly. “New world record for me. God, I'm such a mess.”
“I don't think she's leaving.“
Sadie turns around with a secretive smile and begins adjusting her camera. “In fact, she’s coming right back in.”
“Huh?”
Well… shit.
To my absolute shock, Olivia walks into the bakery about as soaked as I am. Gown dripping, hair plastered to her face. Still way more put together than me, though, with her lipstick intact.
“Better?“
she asks as she approaches.
I swallow hard at the drops of rainwater clinging to her lashes and dripping onto her chest. “Uh… yeah. I think.”
No. Not better. Her skin looks soft and part of me wants to know what the rain tastes like off her body. This is actually much, much worse.
Sadie turns on one of the umbrella lights, motioning for our attention. “Ready to begin? Let's start in front of the confectionery.”
Olivia moves first, heels clicking gracefully against the floor as she takes her place near the pastry display. When I follow, my soggy flats suction to my feet and make every step sound like a fart.
God, this is mortifying.
“Okay,“
Sadie says brightly, peering through her lens. “You can stand close. No touching yet.”
I scoot closer to Olivia, immediately aware of her warmth and the sweet, wildflower scent of her perfume. It makes me think of home.
“Relax your shoulders,“
Sadie adds. “Arya, you’re holding some tension.”
“Smells so good…“
I whisper under my breath. When Olivia raises her brows, I blurt out, “The food, I mean.”
Sadie nods. “Perfect. Now, Olivia, look at Arya like you’re seeing her for the first time.”
Oh no.
Olivia turns her head, and I follow suit. When our gazes meet, faces only inches apart, my breath stutters. The camera flashes once, then again. Olivia’s sapphire eyes and pouty, heart-shaped mouth are even more stunning up close.
I turn away when my thoughts—and my vagina—run wild with less-than-pure ideas of what she can do with those lips.
No, I tell myself, do not flirt. That is not why we moved here.
Sadie lowers her camera, studying us with a frown. “Okay,“
she says. “I want you two to forget I'm here.”
Olivia tilts her head. “Meaning?”
“Just be yourselves. Talk. Do whatever you’d normally do if no one were watching.”
A snort nearly leaves my lungs. If no one were watching, I'd probably be naked—
“Do you like pie?“
I blurt out, turning my attention to the buffet table to distract myself.
Amusement dances across Olivia's features. “Is that a trick question? Of course, I love pie.”
“Good. Because I think if you said no, I'd have to leave.”
Sadie claps her hands. “Perfect. Each of you grab a slice.”
My head whips toward her. “I… what?”
“Yes. Together.”
Olivia moves first, selecting a slice of cherry pie—because apparently the universe has a theme today—and two small forks. “Fitting,“
she laughs, eyeing my still-damp and very transparent dress.
Another compulsive giggle escapes my lips. I grimace, ashamed of the little tic that happens when I'm happy or nervous. Or in this case, both.
We stand with our toes almost touching, sharing a single piece of pie with shy smiles. Sadie’s camera shutter snaps away. Before I can overthink myself, I cut a bite of the pie and offer it to Olivia. Her pretty eyes flick up to mine briefly before she accepts, full red lips closing around the fork.
“Oh,“
I breathe, my brain momentarily short-circuiting.
She swallows with a grin. “Tastes really good.”
“Right? I love pie.“
Arya, you idiot. Jesus. I'm so confident when it comes to men, yet I lose all my cool around women.
Olivia chuckles, a throaty sound that has heat pooling between my legs as she scoops up a chunk of pie. “Your turn.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,“
she insists, offering the fork.
Well. Okay then.
I lean in, heart hammering against my ribs. Our fingers brush when the camera flashes, and an electric current courses through me.
Sadie hums happily. “Yes. That. Don’t stop.”
Olivia’s gaze lingers on my mouth. “Seems every time we meet,“
she murmurs, “I am also dripping wet.”
A flush of molten lava spreads from my face all the way down to my toes. Speechless, I can only stare, my breath coming in quick bursts.
“I wonder…“
She sets down the plate, then cups my cheeks gently. “If I kissed you, would you taste like cherry pie?”
Holy shit.
My lips part, a rush of air leaving my lungs as I lean in, even though my brain is telling me to stop.
No. Cease. Resist. I signed up for this thing to make friends, dammit—and not the kissing kind! There was enough of that in Salt Lake City. The form I'd filled out had explicitly stated that nothing intimate would happen unless both parties consented.
Do I consent?
“Can I kiss you, Arya?“
Olivia whispers, her thumbs brushing my cheekbones. The open, earnest look in her eyes, combined with that delicious smell of her perfume overtakes my senses.
Do I consent?
Hell, yes.
I nod before my brain can ruin the moment. “Kiss me.”
A slow, beautiful smile lights up her face, and she presses her lips to mine.
The kiss is soft at first, almost hesitant. Tilting forward, I let my hands fall to her waist as I open my mouth in silent permission. The moment our tongues touch lightly, we both gasp. It's slow, and sweet, and so unlike anything I've ever had.
Behind us, the camera clicks once. Twice.
And when we pull back, we’re both breathing a little faster.
“Well,“
she laughs shakily. “That answers that. You do taste like pie.”
I don't even try to reign in the giggle this time. “So do you.”
Sadie clears her throat loudly. “Okay,“
she says, clearly delighted. “That was… perfect. I’m going to pretend I’m invisible for the last few minutes of our session. Just keep doing what you're doing.”
Olivia scans my face. “Are you alright?”
I nod, even though my heart is doing cartwheels inside my chest. “Yeah. I'm okay. I think I might actually be great.”
She squeezes me gently. “Good.”
Outside, the rain starts to slow, letting rays of golden light filter in through the window. A fuzzy kind of warmth settles inside me when she smiles, and for the first time since moving to Seattle…
I feel like I actually might like it here.