Chapter 19 #2
Clara looks so beautiful today. She’s not wearing anything she doesn’t usually wear; she’s in cargo pants and an oversized sweater that falls just below her hips, and over it, she has a long, warm coat.
A style that fits her so well. Her blue hair sits above her shoulders, and she’s wearing sunglasses.
But it’s not hard to imagine the honey-brown eyes hiding behind them.
They are the most perfect shade of light brown.
“Hey,” I say back as Clara leans in to kiss my forehead. I’d be lying if I said I don’t absolutely love it when she does that. She only welcomes me and Lala like that, and knowing she doesn’t do it for anyone else is my favorite.
“You left these at home.” She hands me my favorite pair of sunglasses.
“Thank you,” I say, putting them over my eyes. I rarely leave the house without them because I always end up with a migraine on sunny days like today, and the fact that Clara knows that and brought them to me when she realized I’d left them makes my heart flutter.
“I got you coffee already,” I say as I push the coffee cup toward her.
“Thanks. How was your chat with Isabella?”
“It was good. She wants me to print out the three pictures I showed her.”
“Hey, good job.” Clara leans against me with her shoulder. The connection sends a warmth shooting through me, and I think back to last night.
“Thanks,” I say shyly.
Clara smiles and reaches for my hand, giving it a little squeeze.
“I was sad when you weren’t in bed this morning,” she says, brushing her lips against my knuckles, making my stomach flutter wildly.
“Yeah?” I ask with a hesitant smile playing on my lips. It’s far from the first time she’s said this, but after what happened between us last night, hearing her say something so . . . us feels unexpectedly good.
Clara meets my gaze and returns the smile before nodding.
“Isabella thinks we should date,” I say.
“Does she?” Clara asks, amused.
I nod, biting my lower lip.
“Did you tell her we are?” Clara’s eyes lock on mine as she takes a slow sip from her coffee.
I shake my head, my fingers tightening around my empty cup. “I wasn’t sure you’d want the girls to know yet.”
“Do you not?” Clara’s voice is gentle.
I shrug again, a slight heat rising to my cheeks. “I do want to tell them, but I didn’t know if you did.”
“I’ll shout it from the rooftops right now,” she says, reaching out to gently squeeze my hand across the table.
I glance down at our intertwined fingers and can’t help the warmth blooming in my chest.
I’m the luckiest woman alive.
The next few days are nothing short of amazing. I didn’t think Clara and I could get any closer, but our closeness has only intensified.
We’ve been spending almost every night wrapped up in each other, doing the same things we always do, such as our nightly movie nights, our random at-home spa days, but now every night we end up in Clara’s room and spend the majority of our time talking, cuddling, kissing and having sex—because when sex is this good, how do you stop?
I really didn’t expect to feel this way right before leaving.
The whole reason I even considered going was because of Mia.
I’d convinced myself I’d never be able to get over her in a town where every street, every cafe, every single corner held some memory of us—leaving felt like the only way to let her go finally.
But now . . . with Clara, everything is different. I’ve barely thought about Mia, our memories, or the weight of this place. And leaving doesn’t seem as necessary anymore. What once felt like an escape now hits like a loss. And I don’t want to lose this.
I stare at the email on my laptop.
Subject: Offer of Employment – Senior Photographer Position at Limon Creative Studio.
Dear Alejandra,
We are pleased to offer you the position of Senior Photographer at Limon Creative Studio, based in our New York City office.
After reviewing your portfolio and speaking with you during the interview process, we are confident that your creative perspective and technical skills will make a strong addition to our team.
Position Details:
· Start Date: Within one month of signed offer acceptance.
Please find the attached offer letter outlining all terms and conditions of employment. If you choose to accept, kindly sign and return the letter within 3–5 business days.
We’re excited about the possibility of your joining Limon and contributing to some of the most exciting brand campaigns in the industry. Please don’t hesitate to reach out with any questions.
Best regards,
Danielle Kim
Senior Talent Manager
Limon Creative Studio
I should be jumping up and down, calling someone, planning the move. But instead, I’m sitting here, frozen—because my heart doesn’t want to go. Not anymore.
Clara still doesn’t know, and it’s been killing me not to tell her. I just . . . don’t know how. I stir my drink absentmindedly, trying to steady my thoughts.
With all this swirling in my head all week, I’m honestly relieved it’s finally Saturday.
Tonight is Diana’s bachelorette party, and I’m so ready for a night out with everyone.
A little dancing, a few too many drinks, and maybe—even if it’s only for a few hours—I can get out of my own head and just be.
We’re going to a lesbian bar in Seattle’s Capitol Hill area called The Wildrose.
It’s Seattle’s only lesbian bar and one of the longest-running in the country.
Honestly, I can’t think of a better place to celebrate Diana’s bachelorette party.
A night surrounded by music, dancing, queer joy, and the people I love? Yeah, I need this.
“Are you almost ready?” Clara calls out as I secure the last purple butterfly hair clip to the front of my hair, making sure it’s parallel to the one on the other side.
Diana is having a Y2K-themed bachelorette party, and I’ve gone all out with a pink cropped Bebe shirt, low-waist baggy pants, purple plastic sunglasses, and green, purple, pink, and blue butterfly clips clipped on the side of my hair.
I take one last look at myself before opening the door.
Clara is on the other side, absolutely stunning in her all-denim shirt and pants.
She’s even thrown on a denim hat and thick yellow glasses, but even through them, I see Clara give me a once-over, and immediately, my cheeks go as pink as my glasses.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the intensity of her gaze.
“Wow,” I say breathlessly.
“Wow, yourself,” Clara says, reaching for my waist. Rubbing at the exposed skin, a sea of butterflies stirs to life.
She pulls me in closer, and the moment her lips land on mine, everything else ceases to exist behind my closed eyes.
All I can feel is her warmth, her breath, her hands holding me tightly like she’s afraid I’ll slip away, and I wish so badly we didn’t have to go anywhere, so I could take her back to my bed.
Clara bites down on my bottom lip, and I let out a whine against her mouth as she draws my lip between her teeth.
“We should probably head out,” she says breathlessly, resting her forehead against mine.
I nod, knowing we should, but definitely not wanting to.
Clara and I head outside, get into her car, and start the one-hour drive to Capitol Hill from Stanwood.
When we finally make it, it takes us forever to find parking. The streets are packed with cars and people.
We finally park a few blocks away and walk toward the club, the music growing louder with each step. Neon lights flicker from the entrance, casting bright shadows on the sidewalk. The line is so long it wraps around the corner.
While we wait, she slips her arm around my waist. The line’s barely moving, but I don’t mind, not with her pressed against me.
When we finally reach the front, Clara pulls open the heavy club door, and a rush of heat hits me. The place is packed.
Clara’s hand brushes against mine, and without thinking, I lace my fingers through hers.
The gesture is so natural, like it’s always been this easy to reach for her.
She gives me a quick smile before tugging me gently through the crowd, weaving between swaying bodies.
Clara’s grip never loosens as she guides us toward the bar.
The Wildrose is a small club, but it’s so popular that anytime you come, you’re packed in like a sardine. Still, it’s hard to care when you’re surrounded by sapphics dancing around you.
Clara and I spent a good chunk of our early twenties at this club, hooking up with random women in the bathrooms, which is impressive considering how small they are. I barely fit in there myself now. I don’t know how two of us ever fit in there.
She leans against the counter and flags down the bartender, ordering a couple of drinks while I hover close beside her, one hand still wrapped in hers.
“We’ll wait here for the rest,” she says, pressing a cold glass into my hand and brushing her thumb lightly across my knuckles.
We sip our drinks, standing hip to hip, her shoulder gently bumping mine every time she leans in to say something, but I can’t make out the words over the music.
My phone buzzes. I glance down and smile.
Diana 10:45 p.m.:
we’re in line! be there soon.
“She’s here.” I show Clara the screen. Just as I do, Diana and Alex walk in, along with a few of their friends, followed by Isabella, Lily, and Valeria, who all come racing toward us.
“How’d you guys get through the line so fast?”
“Isabella knows the bouncer,” Lily answers.
Of course she does.
“How are you guys?” Isabella eyes mine and Clara’s intertwined fingers.
Before we can answer, Diana throws her arms around us, pulling us into a big hug. The scent of tequila is already strong on her breath.
“I’m getting married!” she squeals, and I chuckle.
Diana is usually super composed, but the moment alcohol hits her system, she turns loud, fun, and a little wild. Not that she isn’t fun sober, but she lets loose when she’s been drinking.