Chapter Twelve
Faye
“Don’t forget about your breathing,” Riley called out from the front of yoga class, where she sat cross-legged by the fountain, her blonde hair falling in long waves past her shoulders. “In…and feel your spine lengthening.”
Faye sat up a little straighter, noticing the slump in her posture. She sucked in a lungful of air, spreading her shoulders and trying to ease the restless feeling in her bones.
“Out…and gently open your hips. Feel the sensation of your breath as it enters and leaves your body.”
Faye pressed her hands into her knees, feeling the light burn through her muscles as she stretched a little wider.
She was surprised by how much she was enjoying her morning yoga sessions.
All that time lying in bed hadn’t done her joints any favours, but she was already noticing subtle differences as her body worked with her for a change.
Though her body was still feeling heat in other places.
She opened one eye again, peeking at the back of the gorgeous woman’s head a few places in front. Diana looked like she’d been doing this for years. Has she done yoga before? She’d have to ask.
Excited butterflies fluttered through her belly as the events of last night played through her mind. Diana showing up at her door, hair messy and eyes love-drunk… The graze of her fingernail down Faye’s sternum. The expert way she’d made her fall apart around her fingers.
God. It was better than she’d dared imagine. And they were still going slow. Whatever that entailed, sign Faye up for seconds and thirds.
She adjusted her legs as thick heat curled low in her belly. She should be concentrating on her breathing, but instead of Riley’s voice, Diana’s echoed low and husky in her ears. You’re so wet.
She was—and soon she would be again if she didn’t get control of herself.
She opened her eyes, trying to focus on anything else.
Pat, pat-pat, pat, pat-pat. Quin tapped their fingers against their knees next to her as they danced in fluid sequence.
In front of them, a thick-set man’s last tuft of hair twitched in the breeze as it clung to his scalp.
“In…” Riley called. “And…out.”
Faye wondered what they were all thinking about. If other people were in a constant battle to just breathe like she was.
Was Diana, too?
Is she thinking about last night?
Her soft, wanting mouth. Her hot, silky tongue, and how Faye couldn’t wait to feel it between her legs, so Diana would really know how wet she was—no! Stop it.
Luckily, Riley clapped her hands together, snapping Faye from her filthy daydreams.
“Well done, everyone. Now for our final pose.” She grinned, dimples popping in her cheeks. “You’ll have to trust me on this one.”
They lay on the floor, legs and arms extended by their sides in a position mirroring Faye’s existential crisis from her uni days. Afterwards, she stood with Quin in line, waiting to put their yoga mats back into the wooden cubbies.
Lying back on her mat, attempting to release the tension from her body, had only stirred her feelings up further.
You’re like a horny teenager, she chastised herself.
She shuffled forward in line, trying to ignore the sensation between her legs as Quin chatted away about Drew Barrymore films, ranked from worst to best.
“I can’t understand the hate on Charlie’s Angels. It’s shit, yeah, but it’s good shit, you know?”
“I’ve never seen it.”
“Dude!” Quin grabbed her arm. “That’s criminal. It’s like the fifth-best Drew Barrymore film.”
“Maybe we can have a movie night sometime. You can show me around Cornwall.”
“Oh my god, yes! We can make a list of every film that inspired all of this queer. Interestingly, Drew Barrymore features in a lot of them. Although…Drew Barrymore is banned in my dad’s house. So maybe we’d be better at yours in Manchester.”
Faye hoped Quin meant that. Her past tried to worm into her brain, promising that when the retreat was over, so was their friendship. She wanted to say this friendship with Quin was different, but she had to prepare for the worst.
Quin grabbed her again, eyes wide. “OMG, we can make a list of the best movie snacks, too. Popcorn is a classic, obvs, but Skittles are seriously underrated.”
Diana turned around, catching Faye’s eye, and something inside her snapped like an elastic band.
Everything else fizzled out for a moment.
Faye loved the movement of her mouth, how it turned up slightly at the corners.
Loved how she had the privilege to notice such small changes in her expression.
Then Diana brushed past her as she left, leaving a tingle where her warm fingers had traced her waist.
That should not be as arousing as it was. But the tingle sank low into Faye’s belly, filling up her senses until she could feel nothing but Diana.
“Uh, hello? Pringles or Maltesers for number three?” Quin slotted their blue mat into the cubby, then raised their dark eyebrows. “Well, well. What’s got you all hot and flustered? And I don’t think it’s Drew Barrymore.”
“I’m not flustered. It’s just hot.”
“Yeah…and me making my G.I. Joe’s scissor was just a phase.
” They stepped out with Faye from under the shade and raised their arm to block out the morning sunlight.
“Come on. What are you smiling about? Or should I say who? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you making eyes with Mrs Robinson over there. ”
“Quin.” Faye laughed, her nonchalant demeanour cracked. “Diana is not Mrs Robinson.”
“Aha! So she does have a name…” When Faye shot them a look, they grinned. “Fine. But this isn’t over. Just make sure you don’t ditch me completely for the waterfall tour tomorrow.”
“I won’t.” Although the thought of seeing Diana in a bikini made Faye’s pulse quicken. Despite the fact she’d laid herself bare last night, Diana hadn’t so much as lifted her pretty yellow sundress. That drove her even wilder.
Yes, yes, taking it slow…I know…
But Faye itched to explore Diana’s body, to discover the smaller details and quirks that others hadn’t. Like the way she tousled her hair when she thought no one was watching, or how her eyes held so much emotion it felt like seeing right into her soul.
The intensity of it all. And this was only the beginning—they still had over two weeks to go. Faye couldn’t stop the smile stretching her face.
But then Molly stepped into view, cutting in front of Quin. “Can we talk?”
The light feeling filling her body fizzled dry like wet fingers on a hot flame. Not this again.
Quin wiggled their eyebrows behind her, mouthing, “And now Blondie too?”
She couldn’t compose herself to react. Panic set in, the earlier heat flooding to her face. What should she do? She could hardly run off again.
Molly was going to be at Sandy Springs the whole time she was, so she needed to do this sooner or later. Their sessions with the support counsellors started in thirty minutes, too, so at least there was an end in sight.
Harness that enigma.
She breathed in deeply, and on the exhale, said, “Yeah, sure,” with far more enthusiasm than she’d intended. “I’ll catch you later, Quin.”
They flashed their finger guns, then headed towards the reception, probably to try to connect to the dodgy Wi-Fi and report back to their dad.
Here we go.
Faye wiggled her toes in her sandals before picking her gaze up from the stone slabs.
Most people had left the courtyard, heading down the steps to the beach or back to their cabins.
Riley was conversing with a man by the fountain.
Faye wondered if she’d pick up on a distress signal if she gave one—though judging by the man’s crossed arms and the huffs escaping his chest every few seconds, it looked like Riley could use a distress signal of her own.
Stop looking for a way out, Faye.
The half an hour until their support counsellors suddenly seemed far too long. What were they going to talk about for thirty minutes? They’d barely exchanged a sentence in a year.
“Shall we take a seat?” Molly indicated the bench where Faye had found Diana yesterday.
Faye frowned. She didn’t want to taint the space with something that was definitely not going to be fun.
But Molly didn’t wait for an answer. She walked towards the bench, hips swishing in another pink dress, in a way that didn’t have any effect on Faye whatsoever.
She blinked as that hit her. At some point, whatever minuscule hold Molly still had on her—the tatty tendrils Faye was still holding onto for no other reason other than masochism—had been cut.
She breathed a little easier as she took a seat beside Molly on the hard wood, keeping a nice distance between them. Maybe getting closure wouldn’t hurt? But could she handle the brutal truth right now?
Molly turned to her. “I might as well just come right out with it.”
Oh. Faye wound her fingers under the hem of her shorts, trying to swallow back the nerves threatening to surface.
“I’m sorry for what I did. For ghosting you. That wasn’t cool.”
Faye’s automatic response of it’s fine stopped at her lips as the memory resurfaced…
Lying in bed in darkness, checking and rechecking her phone, wondering what she’d done to push Molly away.
Rereading the unanswered messages, overthinking every word, telling herself she wasn’t good enough.
That she would never be good enough for someone to love.
It wasn’t fine at all.
She forced herself to meet Molly’s blue eyes, seeing herself reflected in them.
She sat a little straighter. “What you did really hurt me. And I know we were only together for a few months—you might not even count it a relationship—but I thought you cared about me. For you to just disappear without reason or explanation, well, yeah, it wasn’t just ‘not cool’, it was extremely shitty. ”
Now the words were out there, a tight ball in her chest loosened. That actually felt good.