Chapter Twenty-Two #2
“I’m glad you think so.”
Diana hummed her approval, adding another kiss. “But we really have to get ready now.”
Faye begrudgingly untangled herself from Diana’s warmth and turned to face her on shaky legs.
She blew out a breath as she leaned back against the tiles, feeling the exquisite ache everywhere.
Diana started washing herself, and even that she found mesmerising.
The way her hands moved, the fingers that had just brought her to such a brilliant climax now busying themselves doing something mundane.
But none of the ordinary things were mundane with Diana.
A different ache pulled at her. The one craving all life’s simplicities without a time limit or flights heading in different directions looming over their heads.
Her eyelids pricked, and she looked down at her feet. God, her hormones were all over the place. Thankfully, the mix of water and steam hid her swell of emotion, and she gathered herself.
She plucked at her support belt, the material clinging to her like a sloppy second skin. She wanted to take it off, but a sudden shyness fell over her. What if Diana didn’t mind her bag when it was mostly hidden away? Would she feel differently if she saw Faye without her cover-up?
It might’ve been her post-orgasm brain talking, but Faye didn’t want to hide anything from Diana. She wanted her to know all of her before they left.
“Do you mind if I take my support off?” she asked. “It’d be nice to shower without it.”
“Of course I don’t mind.”
The answer was so quick and so sure, emotion swelled inside Faye again. To stop herself from opening her big mouth and declaring something too big for the shower cubicle, she slipped off her garment, moving it away with the flick of her toe.
She looked down at herself, completely bare, her skin-toned bag snug to her abdomen. She didn’t want to look at Diana. What if she saw something, a flicker of uncertainty—or worse, disgust—that burst this entire bubble?
She closed her eyes. The blackness soothed her, the hiss of water filling her ears. Another voice joined the cacophony in her head. Stop assuming.
Her overactive brain loved to fill in the blanks with worst-case scenarios, but those assumptions were draining, exhausting, and usually wrong.
Even if Diana was repulsed by her, Faye deserved to know.
She had nothing to apologise for. She wasn’t about to start hiding again. Not for anyone, even Diana.
She felt hands on her, guiding her into the stream of water. A snap of a bottle opening and a squirt, then the return of hands, firm and gentle as Diana lathered body wash over her, starting with her shoulders.
She opened her eyes to find Diana washing her with such fondness and care, it almost floored her.
“You’re beautiful,” Diana said, her gaze flicking to Faye’s as she caressed her bicep, drawing her fingers down her forearm.
“Thank you.” She swallowed, an unease creeping into her throat—because it was strange to actually feel beautiful for once. “You are too. I told you that when I first met you, and I think it every day. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, Diana.”
Diana’s fingers stilled on Faye’s wrist, just for a millisecond, but Faye caught it. The hesitation. Did Diana not believe it? Faye wanted to tell her every single day. To kiss her, to love her, and—God, she was going to say something really stupid if she didn’t change the subject.
“So is it just Backstreet Boys you like?” she blurted. “Or is it all boy bands?”
Amusement crinkled Diana’s eyes, and she burst into laughter. That pure, magical laughter that made Faye feel like she was standing on mountain tops.
Diana caught some water in her hand and began washing the soapy suds off Faye’s arms. “I might have a soft spot for some of the classics. Boyzone, NSYNC, Five, Backstreet Boys—”
“Sounds like you were a lot of a fan. A bit of a groupie.”
She gave a small shrug. “I might’ve queued outside HMV for twelve hours to get a signed copy of Millennium.”
“No way.” She pictured a teenage Diana fangirling, and the grin hurt her face. This new information flipped a switch.
She wanted this. Uncovering guilty pleasures, hearing Diana sing in the shower, spending mornings and evenings and any time in between with someone who made her feel the best version of herself.
She wanted Diana.
All fear of rejection drained away. Standing in front of Diana, laying herself bare, she’d never felt more sure of herself. The distance would be tricky, but Faye wasn’t rooted anywhere. She could compromise. It was worth it to take a chance on this.
Their gazes locked, and confirmation flared through her veins.
“Diana, I—”
A quick banging noise made them both swivel their heads. Was that Diana’s door?
“Hello?” a familiar high-pitched voice called out as the front door opened.
Faye stiffened. Shit. Molly.
A little detail she’d forgotten—along with locking the door.
“Oh, Christ.” Diana stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. “Just a minute!” she called, her voice squeakier than usual. She turned back to Faye. “Just…stay there.” She flipped the shower off, threw Faye a towel, then scampered out of the bathroom.
Holy fuck. Faye’s heart jumped into her throat.
She wrapped the towel around herself and stepped onto the shower mat, glancing around.
Of course there was nowhere to hide. Who designs hidden compartments in a bathroom?
There was a window, but even if Faye could manoeuvre herself through the tiny hole without detaching her bag or flashing a bunch of strangers, the sound of her attempted escape would most definitely draw Molly’s attention. The best thing was to stay put.
Water dripped down her spine, and she pulled the towel tighter around herself. What is Molly doing here?
What if she came to use Diana’s shower because her bathroom had flooded?
Maybe that could be Faye’s excuse for being over here so early in the morning?
Or maybe she should stage a fall in case she came in?
Or maybe she could drape Diana’s robe over herself and become the world’s best human statue in the corner?
Oh god. I don’t know!
The sound of voices filtered through the door. She tiptoed closer, barely breathing.
“…not like you to be running late,” Molly commented.
“I overslept. Just give me five minutes to finish up in the bathroom, and then I’ll be right out. In fact, why don’t you wait at yours and I’ll come and knock for you once I’ve finished?”
There was movement on the other side. “Okay.”
She was leaving! Thank all the gay gods. Faye let out a breath of relief that was a moment too soon.
“What are those?” Molly asked, and Faye tensed.
What had she seen?
Diana’s voice came next. Careful. Measured. A little too easy-breezy. “Oh…they’re Faye’s sunglasses. I think she left them at class. I’m going to give them back to her today.”
Carla’s stupid pineapple sunglasses.
Faye aged twenty years in the silence as she waited for Molly’s response.
“Oh, right. I didn’t think they were your style.”
Giant pineapples aren’t my style either, but beggars can’t be choosers.
“I won’t be long, love. Five minutes tops.”
Faye didn’t dare breathe. Then more movement. The closing of a door. Diana entered the bathroom, her earlier carefree demeanour replaced with fear and dread.
They didn’t say anything for a moment, just their breathing and the steady drip-drip from the showerhead loud in the room.
“That was close,” Faye said, breaking the silence.
Diana nodded. “Too close.” She sighed, sweeping her wet hair from her face. “Right. Come on.” She started busying herself, but Faye stood still, droplets still snaking down her chest.
The moment to talk had gone. And it was going to require more than five minutes of their time to have that particular conversation.
With a sigh of her own, she started to dry herself, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
Because as much as there were challenges in their way, she’d omitted a rather important detail. What would they do about Molly?