Chapter 12 #2
When he stretches his fingers around my waist where he’s gripping my hip, his fingertips meet the bare skin of my exposed back.
I arch instinctively at the shocking contact, causing my breasts to rub against his chest. I moan as quietly as I can into his mouth at the flash of sensation, and he opens to slip the very edge of his tongue across the seam of my lips—
My phone buzzes loudly in my clutch on the bar.
I break off the kiss on a whimper, looking down at the floor as I catch my breath. Our labored breathing is the only sound for a moment as we keep our hands where they are, and then another loud buzz has us finally releasing each other.
I immediately go for my clutch, not yet meeting his eye.
“It’s Runzhou,” I say, voice high and breathy as hell.
“He and K are here to pick me up.” They dropped me off earlier and had dinner elsewhere in the city.
God knows we couldn’t have done this dinner back in Branch County where a Hilltop representative might catch us drinking.
“End scene, then,” he says, still out of breath.
I swing my gaze to him. The longing is still clear in his eyes, but his features have drawn tight.
Practice. We were supposed to be practicing. I just told him twenty minutes ago that I’m hesitant to get physical with him. Was he in character the whole time? Was I?
“I’m sorry,” I mutter. I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for. Letting that go too far. Not letting it go far enough. Sending the mother of all mixed signals.
He frowns. “I can’t decide if I’m very sorry or very not sorry.”
I don’t have a response, so I just study him.
His skin is still flushed, as I suspect mine is, but his hair is perfect.
After weeks of fantasizing about sinking my fingers into the brown locks, I didn’t make it there.
I didn’t mess it up. He won’t look in the mirror when he gets home and see the evidence of what he does to me.
“I’ll pack up the cameras and settle the bill before ordering my car.”
“We can take you home,” I say.
He shakes his head. “No, you guys have a decent drive back—”
“It’s no problem. Take your time loading up and we’ll swing by your place on our way out of the city.”
He finally shares his quiet smile with me. “I do kind of want to meet K.”
My whole being sighs in relief. We’re still us.
I smile brightly at him. “Yes, you most certainly do.”
Less than ten minutes later, we’re climbing into the back seat of Runzhou’s SUV to K’s soaring serenade: “Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling …”
Runzhou and I are laughing, but Danny is stunned, no doubt by the utter beauty of K’s voice. I lean my swimming head back against the headrest and enjoy the warm introductions as Runzhou keys in Danny’s address.
K quickly launches into the story of meeting me for the first time at The 135, and Danny mirrors my position and just stares at me while he listens.
I stare back. K describes the moment I finally rose from my straight-backed chair in the corner to join them on the dance floor: “She was so clearly in mourning,” they say wistfully.
“But she was also the brightest spot in that room.”
Danny slides his hand on top of mine where it rests on the seat between us. The warm weight of it seems to cover my whole body like a blanket.
“Hey, K?” I say.
“Yes, lovey?”
“Can you explain to Danny why you’re at Hilltop?”
Danny flexes his hand on mine, the tenderness on his face nearly dissolving me.
As much as I want to show him that all of his curiosity and righteous fervor doesn’t mean he can’t have fun, he should also know that having fun doesn’t mean he needs to give up his curiosity or righteous fervor.
I want his whole beautiful self to expand and consume as much space as possible.
K twists in the passenger’s seat to address Danny. “Like Runzhou, I also applied for the famous School of Music. Ally and I auditioned for every top conservatory together, with a vow we’d only go to the one where we were both accepted with scholarships. That ended up being Hilltop.”
“Ally and K are childhood soulmates,” I quietly clarify.
“I thought you said Ally studies sociology, not music …?” Danny says.
I wave a hand. “Another story for another day.”
K continues. “But you know, all the Community Covenant bullshit never really fazed me, and it still doesn’t.
As a mixed-race, nonbinary person who grew up in backwater Alabama, I have an easier time navigating all the hateful policies and stances because I’ve had a lifetime of practice.
I’m countercultural just by existing—hell, even in progressive spaces.
So I was never going to let some bigots keep me from studying with the incredible vocal faculty here and attending the same college as the one person from my upbringing who loved me enough to honor my pronouns. ”
Danny inhales deeply, blows it out. He shakes his head with a faint smile.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
He tips his head back onto the seat to gaze at me again. “Just how funny life is. I never would have guessed some of the best people I’d meet would be Hilltop students.”
My chest tightens.
The SUV rolls to a stop in front of a pretty two-story brick house with tasteful uplighting at each window and a bright yellow door. Runzhou catches my eye in the rearview mirror, then turns on music, no doubt to give Danny and me a semi-private moment to say goodbye.
“This is me,” Danny mutters, making no effort to move.
“This is your house?”
He nods.
I didn’t know Danny lived in a house, much less a dream house like this. “I love it.”
A soft smile. “I love it too.”
“Did you paint the door, or was it like that before?”
“I painted it.”
His thumb gently smooths over the back of my hand.
I want to hear about what you want from me, baby.
“Was that all pretend?” I whisper. “At the bar?”
He leans in, and my whole body erupts in goosebumps when he whispers against my ear, “You know I’m not able to perform with you.”
I shudder. What would happen if I just followed him up to that yellow door? What would happen if we picked up where that kiss left off?
And what path would I be locking into?
He must sense my sudden alarm, because as soon as that thought hits me, the weight of his hand lifts, his scent withdraws, and he’s exiting the car with all his camera bags.
I watch his long strides down the grass-lined walkway and up the stairs of the small porch.
He disappears behind the yellow door without looking back.
I’m staring at my ceiling, not even close to drifting off.
It’s not just the kiss and Danny’s house and the fantasies of what might have happened if I had followed him that are tormenting me; it’s also the story behind TJL that I shared at dinner. I glossed over so much of the ugliness and pain, even though I knew Danny could sense it.
My family’s performances—on and off the church stage—were a smokescreen all along. And yet, when the smoke cleared, I was somehow the failure of the family.
No wonder I’m scared to plan a new future or take on new roles.
I worked so hard to be good and worthy—for nothing.
I lost everything, and what I had wasn’t even right in the first place.
As fundamentalist pastors, my family and I were inflicting harm on the world and on each other—a revelation that cut me off at the knees.
I’m standing now, but I think I’m only just confronting the severity of my loss.
My phone buzzes on my bedside table.
Danny: I think I’ve decided I’m not sorry
I sit up straight in my bed. It’s well past midnight, but apparently Danny couldn’t sleep, either. Even after all the wine.
Me: Oh? Why’d you land on that?
Danny: Because you liked it
Dear lord, sleep isn’t going to happen at all tonight, is it?
Me: What gave you that impression, Maestro?
He responds with a video. I hit play and my jaw drops.
It’s us. At the bar. He’s sent me a twenty-second clip of us kissing at the bar.
Danny: You don’t perform with me, either, Muse
I must watch the clip at least one hundred times throughout the week.
Each time, some new facet demands my focus: the muscles in his hand strung taut on my hip.
The flare of his nostrils as he breathes through the kiss.
The gentle sway of his hair as he moves against me.
How deeply my fingers disappear beneath his collar.
How far he has to bend his neck to reach my height.
How he bears down harder when I moan into him.
How right we look together. How perfectly we move together.
By Saturday morning, I know what I need to do.
“Hey, love?” I call as I shuffle out of my bedroom.
Runzhou’s eating breakfast at the kitchen island. “Yes?”
“Will you help me with this hookup app for tonight?”