Chapter Eighteen
Elise didn’t believe in horoscopes or manifestations.
She’d never bothered with love language quizzes or the Myers-Briggs personality test. She didn’t care that through a series of simple questions you could find out your spirit animal or identify your trauma color palette.
And up until yesterday, she’d thought compatibility tests were only good for reality television or couples who needed something to talk about over brunch.
Yet here she was, twenty-four fricken hours later, thinking about nothing but that stupid quiz.
Six out of twenty-five. Six!
According to the quiz, a score that low meant she and Harper fell into the category of Romantically Hazardous: Do Not Operate Heavy Machinery Together.
The description went on to say that their passion would likely be brief and chaotic.
That bickering and the inexplicable urge to walk away mid-conversation would be most likely.
And it even helpfully suggested that couples in this range should probably focus on solo growth journeys.
Elise had gone to bed last night with those words strobing behind her eyelids like a broken neon sign outside a dive bar.
She hadn’t been able to sleep at all. Every time she closed her eyes, the phrase Romantically Hazardous flicked across the inside of her skull, followed by a flash of Harper’s face.
Which was why she couldn’t look Harper in the eye all morning.
Or this afternoon. And now it was evening, and the talent show was kicking off soon, and last she checked, Harper was standing at the refreshment table with a glass of water in her hand.
Elise turned her attention to the stage. The talent show had been her idea to resurrect after they’d axed it for the last three seasons due to a fire-dancing incident with a contestant called Brittany, who had lit up the stage like a Fourth of July sparkler.
Elise hoped it was exactly what they needed to break the curse.
Surely it couldn’t be anything else. She was determined that by the finale, Megan would be handing out a final banksia rose.
She couldn’t bear to think of anyone calling it the Never Rose Show ever again.
Not in her professional lifetime, at least. Nope. She’d quit if that were the case.
The stage was a temporary platform built directly over the infinity pool.
It was made of a grid of plexiglass panels, each bolted into a slim steel frame so the entire surface seemed to float.
Tall, feathery palm trees in large clay pots flanked the setup on both sides.
There were rows of outdoor sofas forming a semicircle for the contestants around the pool, each one tossed with sea-glass-colored linen throws.
With the sunset coming in fast, the pool lights kicked on underneath, blasting the stage with a soft Caribbean-blue glow from below.
“Is the mic live?” Elise called toward the sound.
“It’s live!” someone shouted back.
She nodded and then focused on the remaining contestants—Amelia, Tori, Elena, Jamie, and Rebecca—who were all perched on the sofas.
Each was wearing a costume depicting their talent.
Although Elise couldn’t quite make out what that was.
Well, except for Elena, who was dressed in a bright red ruffled gown.
Elise assumed her talent was flamenco dancing.
Monica stepped onto the stage. She was wearing a plum-purple mini skirt that made her legs look like skyscrapers and a sleeveless white blouse.
“Good evening, ladies,” she said, sweeping her gaze over each contestant before adding, “Tonight you will all showcase your talents and hopefully impress our bachelorette.” She flourished her arm to one side of the stage just as Megan walked onto the platform.
Her dress was a shimmering emerald jumpsuit with a neckline that plunged down to her stomach, and her hair fell in the most luscious waves down her back.
No one would ever think she spent her days in scrubs or operating on little kids.
“Thank you,” Megan said, her eyes gleaming.
“The winner of the talent show will receive a special one-on-one date with the bachelorette…” Monica paused, letting the silence stretch just as Elise had instructed her to.
The lights dimmed. A drum roll rumbled from the speakers located at the base of two nearby lemon trees. A few contestants looked at each other, while others tried to catch Megan’s eye. But Megan’s face was impassive as ever.
“Tonight, you will all be competing for a private cooking class date with Megan and a professional chef,” Monica announced.
There were gasps and murmurs and one high-pitched moan from Tori, who was dressed in a long silver dress with a fitted bodice and a feather boa around her neck.
Elise, who had come up with the idea, silently patted herself on the back. She’d been so full of good ideas lately… but then also, not. That compatibility test had been her worst idea yet. In fact, Elise was so traumatized by it that she’d removed it from the schedule entirely.
Megan crossed the stage and took her seat on one of the sofas. She flicked back the few strands of hair that had toppled over her shoulder and crossed one leg over the other. Tonight, the winner would be entirely Megan’s decision. No input from production at all.
Monica stepped forward. “First up, we have Jamie.”
Jamie sprang to her feet. Elise was sure she’d heard a collective sigh of relief from the remaining contestants, though in Elise’s opinion, it was always better to go first. Jamie, however, didn’t seem to mind the order.
She was grinning as she walked onto the stage.
The side of her head with hair was slicked back into a glossy swoop.
Elise wasn’t sure who had approved the triple denim situation—denim jacket, denim shorts, denim boots—but she was sure to bring it up during the next team meeting.
“Evening,” Jamie said, nodding, her focus entirely on Megan. She reached for the mic, immediately knocked it sideways, and caught it thankfully through a catlike reflex. “Sorry, I’m a little nervous,” she muttered, looking only slightly embarrassed.
Elise caught sight of Megan’s face.
The bachelorette was staring at Jamie with full-on starry-eyed wonder. It seemed Jamie, to Elise’s delight, was a good contender for that final rose.
“I hope you enjoy,” Jamie said softly.
Then the music cued, and Jamie opened her mouth. Back to Black by Amy Winehouse poured out of her like liquid velvet, all smoky and dark, twisting under the stars above and glowing beneath the pool.
Elise felt Jamie’s voice in her chest, in her shoulders, in the tiny hair-raising prickles along her forearms. She felt it in another place too that she didn’t want to think about because would that mean she was… mentally cheating? Surely not.
The other contestants also watched in absolute awe. Amelia gaped. Tori’s jaw went slack. Rebecca’s knee bobbed and her fingers tapped, clearly nervous. Just as she should be. There was no way anyone was going to top Jamie tonight.
Elise glanced over their heads and glimpsed Harper standing near the back row of cameras.
She was half in shadow and half haloed by the soft golden spotlight.
She had her big lens lifted and her brow furrowed.
Elise was suddenly desperate to catch her eye despite avoiding her like the plague all day.
In fact, she wanted to walk right over there and apologize.
She’d been so stupid. The compatibility test didn’t mean anything.
Weren’t they better off because they were so different?
Didn’t opposites attract? Yin and yang? Desert to ocean?
Elise spun around to place her tablet on the equipment table, but when she turned back, Harper was gone. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath just as a pang of disappointment rippled down her spine like a mild earthquake.
But she had it coming. Elise wasn’t a saint in this picture. Harper had no doubt noticed Elise ignoring her all day and wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine.
“Oh,” Elise shuddered as warm breath suddenly touched her bare shoulder.
Then Harper’s voice whispered in her ear and, well, that feeling she had for Jamie’s voice was suddenly directed toward the correct person. The only person she wanted to be with.
“Do you want to go back to your place?” Harper whispered.
“Yes,” Elise breathed. “Very much so, yes.”
~~
Elise couldn’t get her shirt off quickly enough. In fact, it got stuck, bunching around her elbows while she made a strangled sound against Harper’s mouth. Thank goodness Harper found this endearing. She laughed into the kiss and tugged the fabric down Elise’s arms.
“Very graceful,” she muttered and pressed Elise up against the front door.
“Tell me you’re impressed,” Elise said, breathless, her cheeks blazing.
The faint sound of Jamie’s velvety voice drifted through the open windows, then stopped.
Monica’s muffled voice came next, followed by a sound Elise couldn’t identify.
In fact, she didn’t actually even care to identify.
She wasn’t even thinking about that stupid compatibility test. The fact that they’d scored six out of twenty-five wasn’t even crossing her mind.
It wasn’t important anymore. Elise was pretty sure that if they had to do a chemistry quiz, they’d ace it.
“I’m very impressed.” Harper kissed down the side of her jaw to her neck, and Elise’s knees wobbled.
Harper must have felt it because her grip tightened as they slid up Elise’s back.
Then her fingers loosened and moved down to Elise’s pants, and before she knew it, they were at her feet. So too were her panties. And her bra.
Harper’s clothes didn’t last much longer.
Elise took each item off with a slowness that made Harper moan and tilt her head back, eyes closed.
She’d even stepped back an inch, which had given Elise the best damn view in the house.
Not even the glittering Tyrrhenian Sea with feathers of orange and pink scattered across the sky could compare to Harper’s breasts, her curvy hips, her deliciously long legs, and short waist every supermodel dreamed of.
The minute she was completely naked, they were on each other again. Their mouths collided. Elise skimmed her hands down Harper’s shoulders to her waist. Then her fingers curled around Harper’s hips before smoothing down her sides to her lovely ass.
Harper’s hand went to Elise’s breast and cupped it tight.
Her thumb swiped over her nipple and Elise, who hadn’t felt something that good, well, not since the last time they’d slept together, moaned into Harper’s mouth.
She moaned again when Harper stopped swiping and bent her head low to envelop Elise’s nipple with her mouth.
She then flicked it with her tongue, nibbled it with her teeth, and repeated the process.
She went harder and harder. It was beginning to hurt.
But was it really painful, or was it erotic?
Erotic, Elise decided. That had to prove they were compatible, right? Harper knew exactly what buttons to press, what lit her up, what flipped her switches in all the right ways—even if Elise didn’t know it yet.
“Are you alright?” Harper said, pulling back. “You seem…” Her words trailed off. Not that Elise needed to hear the end of her sentence to know she meant distracted.
“I’m fine,” Elise said quickly. “I’m great. Really great.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” Elise spluttered, digging the tips of her fingers into Harper’s ass. “Now, how about we stop talking and continue with what we’re doing.”
Harper didn’t say anything. She just kissed Elise again, and before Elise knew it, her back was leaving the door.
Harper flipped them around to the adjacent wall and slid her knee between Elise’s legs.
Her thigh hit Elise right in the center, and she gasped at the pressure.
Skin on skin was great, but this was fucking fantastic.
“Damn,” she muttered softly, wrapping her arms around Harper’s neck.
Elise could feel how wet Harper was against her thigh.
She could also feel her own wetness. Which was just another indication that the compatibility quiz meant nothing.
Elise was hot for Harper. She found her extremely attractive.
She wanted to have sex with her over and over again.
And in this moment, that was all that mattered.
Harper shifted her leg a little, moving upward, and then she hit Elise in a spot so perfect she gasped out loud.
Elise dug her fingers deeper into Harper’s ass and started circling her hips.
No sooner than Elise could say fuck you compatibility test, they were grinding against each other.
Their centers were sliding against each other’s thighs in a way that had them both sweating.
Harper then pulled Elise up her thigh slightly higher, and Elise, who was practically off the floor, leaned forward and sank her teeth into Harper’s shoulder.
Which seemed to be the match that ignited it all because suddenly Harper was shuddering, and before Elise could ask if she’d come, Harper was already sinking to her knees and then moving Elise’s leg over her shoulder.
“Oh my god,” Elise muttered when Harper’s tongue slipped deliciously through her slick heat, parting her like the petals of a flower. “Don’t stop.”
Harper didn’t. In fact, she sped up. Elise moved with her.
Not just her hips bounced up and down, but so too did her tits.
Harper reached up a hand and squeezed the left one, and Elise, who hadn’t expected this to even happen, was riding a kite so high she couldn’t remember at all why she had been avoiding Harper.
It was stupid. She’d been stupid. Harper was amazing.
They would be perfect together. Elise and Harper.
Harper and Elise. Someone should write a book about how well they suited each other.
Fuck that test.
Harper tongued Elise’s clit, then tilted her chin upward slightly and started sucking.
Literal growls escaped Elise’s throat as she moved her hands down and tangled them in Harper’s hair.
The feeling was so good she could hardly breathe.
And then just as Harper stopped sucking and swept her tongue down, Elise’s body broke in a shower of deliciousness.
“Stop,” she muttered and slumped forward. Harper caught her. Of course she did.
“Up for round two?” she asked.
Elise couldn’t think of anything better. “Carry me to the bedroom.”