Chapter 24
"I'm here, I'm here."
Cassidy repeats it and isn't sure if she's saying it to Diane or to herself to keep calm.
She knows it's just a test, not a final diagnosis, but she just felt exactly the way she did when she got a call at three in the morning saying her brother Kenny had been arrested for attempted homicide.
She'd thrown up the dinner she'd eaten hours earlier, gotten dressed as best she could, and driven to the police station.
In the end it had been a fight that got out of hand; the guys—because he'd beaten three of them—came out roughed up but with no permanent damage.
It was ruled self-defense and he walked free.
She wants exactly the same for Diane, because even though this woman no longer belongs to that small space she once filled in her life, she still feels the same as she did back then.
Thinking about her being sick makes her want to scream.
"Did they tell you when you'll get the results?" Cassidy asks, her hand still moving gently across the back of the woman who suddenly seems small beside her.
Diane doesn't move for a few seconds, and she doesn't move because, pressed against that body she knows so well, she feels as if someone injected adrenaline straight into the center of her chest. Being this close to Cassidy's skin is the equivalent of getting back all the energy she's been losing since she stopped touching her.
"Tomorrow, though it could take a little longer," she says, taking in a breath full of Cassidy's scent before pulling away, even though she doesn't want to.
Cassidy gets caught in Diane's gaze and, unable to stop the movement, lets her fingers slide along the skin of her cheek; the other woman tilts her head to settle into the palm of her hand.
"What do you need?" she asks in a low, almost intimate tone, afraid to break the moment that's formed between them. "I'll do whatever you need, even if you want me to leave."
There's a tightening in the pit of her stomach that keeps Diane from answering right away, because her defense systems had already formulated the correct response—leave—but something else hit the emergency brake.
Can she give herself a break from the exhausting work of keeping this woman at a distance?
She can, of course she can, but asking for it would feel pretty hypocritical.
"I can keep you company for a little while," Cassidy says, noticing the hesitation in her, or maybe the lack of courage. "Maybe it'll help you clear your head."
All Diane can manage is a small nod, because her own cowardice has put a muzzle on her and only lets her release words this woman doesn't deserve.
Cassidy stands up and Diane feels the ungrateful emptiness immediately. She follows her with her eyes until she disappears into the kitchen and comes back a few minutes later with a bottle of water.
"You haven't eaten." It's not a question. She offers the bottle, and once Diane takes it, she reaches for her phone. "I'm going to order something. Carbonara?"
"I'm not hungry." Diane takes a short sip and realizes that even drinking feels like an effort.
Cassidy sits down in the armchair across from her, scrolls through her phone, and brings it to her ear.
"Hey," she says, and waits for the person on the other end to finish talking. "Yeah, I'd like to place a delivery order."
With anyone else, Diane would have probably exploded by now, scattering fury without restraint, because what's been happening since the blonde dared to show up at her house qualifies as an invasion of her privacy; but she realizes—without any surprise—that her life is part of a handful of cards Cassidy Collins can play however she wants, and the only thing keeping her safe is how little strength Diane has left to hold her away from her soul.
"Twenty minutes," Cassidy says, locking her phone and putting it away, then turning toward the TV mounted on the wall and pointing at it. "You want to watch a movie after?"
The professional Cassidy has shown up again, the one who for three months has been sending her polite emails and passing her in the hallways as if they were nothing more than coworkers.
She does it well—like almost everything: she's come to see her and doesn't want this visit mistaken for an opportunity to try something.
Saying out loud that it bothers her how proper she's being would contradict every single thing Diane has said to her and every lie she's been shooting straight into her veins.
The food arrives on time and, like a lazy couple on a rainy Sunday, they eat on the couch watching a documentary about killer whales.
Diane realizes how hungry she was because her plate is empty when Cassidy's is still half full.
Cassidy has the decency not to say a word about it, and when she finishes her own, she gets up, takes both plates to the kitchen, and comes back to keep watching.
"Do you want to lie down here? There's plenty of room."
Her voice pulls Diane out of the half-sleep she'd drifted into, and when she turns her head to look, Cassidy is pointing to the space in front of her on the couch.
Diane doesn't want to say no; this moment is the glass of whiskey she's drinking after months of going dry, and even though she knows she's making a mistake, she doesn't care.
Cassidy shifts back, her body pressed against the back of the couch, and Diane settles in front of her in the same position. They keep some distance; they don't touch, though Diane can feel the warmth at her back, the closeness of someone who once made her feel alive. That has to be enough.
● ● ●
Diane begins to come back to consciousness with a small, subtle movement; she feels calm, light, but the peace doesn't last long when a sweet scent hits her nostrils like a gunshot.
Her eyes fly open and, completely horrified, she realizes she's wrapped around Cassidy's body.
Their positions have shifted and now they're facing each other, though all Diane can see is the soft skin of Cassidy's chest. She's pressed against her, legs tangled together, with no idea how long she's been like this.
"Sorry if I woke you," Cassidy whispers close to her ear. "Clara wanted to know how you were doing and had been calling me for a while. I texted her back to say you were resting."
Diane tries to escape the bear trap of the other woman's arms, but Cassidy won't let her; one of her hands has anchored itself to her back.
"You can keep sleeping. It'll do you good."
Diane is dizzy; the closeness of that pale skin is a temptation she can barely contain.
A week ago she felt no desire at all, nothing but an endless exhaustion that wouldn't let her go, the product of the brutal hours she'd been putting in at work.
Today everything looks different, and her body responds to Cassidy without shame, knowing she's the one who can ease it.
And the worst part of the whole situation is that Diane, in the fog of half-sleep, hadn't noticed Cassidy's uneven breathing.
Now that she's fully awake and feeling the agonizing need to combust, she even notices the faint trembling in that body.
It isn't her; Diane can swear it isn't her who buries her face in Cassidy Collins's neck and begins kissing it slowly, but the unstoppable want that doesn't know how to hold back.
"God, I've missed you so much," is the last thing Diane hears before the world stops turning.
Cassidy presses Diane's head against her neck and Diane, who knows those movements by heart, leaves a soft bite on the pale skin. Then they kiss, and when their lips meet after such a long drought, both of them let out a moan that braces them for what's about to happen.
"If I hurt you—"
Diane's gaze hardens.
"You've never treated me like I'm fragile. Don't start now."
They both know she just pulled the trigger on the gun they never should have drawn.
Cassidy undresses her with practiced hands, tugs her pants off the way she likes it, the way they both love, and drags her tongue along the exposed skin, leaving trails wherever she goes.
Diane tries to touch her, but the dance between them has already begun, and even though Diane Carter is a cobra in everyone else's eyes, in front of Cassidy's she's nothing more than a woman with no say in bed; so Cassidy pushes her hands away, pins them above her head, and kisses the torso she still knows by heart.
There's a moment when she hesitates, right when Diane's nipples are about to ache past bearing and she isn't sure she should touch them.
You've never treated me like I'm fragile. Don't start now.
She takes them in her mouth and works them with precision for what feels to her like minutes and to Diane like an eternity.
"Get undressed," Diane says, and there's something in her eyes that makes Cassidy obey immediately.
Their bodies come together and, as if moving through a choreography, both their hands slide down to touch each other.
Cassidy doesn't hold back, and the moment she feels how wet Diane is, she pushes her fingers inside, filling her completely.
"I don't want to hurt you," she breathes, and adds a third finger.
Diane moans so loudly their bodies shudder.
"Are you a coward now?" Diane bites her, hard, and doesn't let go until a red mark blooms on Cassidy's shoulder. "Fuck me."
Cassidy knows what she's doing: Diane needs a way to let go, to release the pain and the dread that a goddamn medical test might bring.
The desperation of an uncertain future, of not knowing whether your nearest destination is your home, an operating room, or a grave.
She moves forward, brings her free hand up to Diane's throat, and squeezes.
She means it, while her three fingers push relentlessly inside her.
"Look at me," Cassidy says when the blue disappears from her eyes. "It's you and me together that make this magic."
Then she sees it: Diane's shoulders drop, her chest caves in, and the orgasm breaks through her entire body, but at the same time tears soak her face in an expression of pain so raw that something cracks inside Cassidy.
When Diane's last exhale turns into a sob, the woman above her pulls her fingers free and holds her tight.
"Everything's going to be okay," she tells her, feeling the tremors of a cry that, no matter how hard Diane tries, she can't stop. "I'm right here with you."
"Don't go, please, don't go," Diane whispers between hiccuped breaths that barely let her breathe.
Cassidy pulls her closer against her body; she doesn't know if Diane means this moment, this night, or something further away. Either way, she stays there, above her, without moving, for as long as Diane needs her.
Later, Cassidy will walk her up to the bedroom with their fingers laced together, and they'll sleep wrapped around each other for the rest of the night.