Chapter 12
Sarah
The sun was dropping toward the horizon, turning Mallory Square golden. Sarah leaned against the van scrolling through her phone. No emergencies at the hotel. Carlos had texted a photo of the fixed toilet in building B with the caption “Beauty shot.”
Two girls from the group approached. Sarah recognized them from check-in. Roommates from NYU.
“Ms. Barnes?” The shorter one twisted her hands together. “We signed up for the shuttle back, but we actually don’t need it anymore.”
“Oh, alright,” Sarah nodded with a smile. “We’ll take you off the list.”
The girls took off and Sarah saw at once why they didn’t need the ride anymore. They got on the back of two scooters–driven by two handsome guys.
Lizzie walked over. “What was that about?”
“Our two shuttle passengers just bailed. Met some guys. Which means we can head back. No point staying if nobody needs a ride. If they change their minds, they can do the on-call shuttle and wait. You want to stay? Or do you want a ride home?”
Lizzie’s tongue slipped over her lips in a way that had Sarah’s stomach do flips.
“A ride, I guess.”
“Alright,” Sarah said. “But can we stop at my place? The pie I bought earlier should really go in the fridge.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Sarah drove through the quiet streets. Her apartment was only five minutes from downtown. Trouble was, she wasn’t usually in the van when she went home. The hotel van would never fit in her tiny parking lot. Instead, she found parking on White Street in front of a closed laundromat.
“There’s no way I can park this bad boy outside my place. You don’t mind getting steps, do you?”
“No,” Lizzie called as she jumped out. “It might rain on us though.” She pointed upward. The sky was already dark with nightfall, but there were flashes in the distance. And a telltale rumble sounded too.
“See, we do get rain even in the spring. Anyway, it’s just around the corner.” Sarah was determined to sound sure, but she really wasn’t. The two walked swiftly, but it wasn’t enough. They’d barely made it two blocks when the rain started. Not a gentle shower but a proper downpour.
“Run!” Sarah was already in sprint mode as she called out to Lizzie. They ran down the sidewalk. Rain soaked through Sarah’s shirt in seconds. Her shoes splashed through puddles. Behind her, Lizzie was laughing.
Sarah’s building appeared ahead. She fumbled with her keys, finally got the door open. They tumbled into the lobby dripping and breathless.
“Jesus.” Lizzie was completely soaked. Her t-shirt clung to her body. “That came out of nowhere.”
“Welcome to Key West!” She unlocked her door. The apartment was dark and cool, the AC humming. Sarah flipped on the lights.
“Wow.” The awe in Lizzie’s voice was palpable, and Sarah saw the apartment through Lizzie’s eyes.
High ceilings with exposed beams. Original hardwood floors that gleamed even in the dim light. French doors leading to a small balcony. Furniture that mixed antique pieces with modern comfort. An old dresser.
“This is beautiful.” Lizzie walked to the French doors. “Is there a pool in the back?”
“Yes, but it’s not mine. It’s sort of communal but the people that rent the two cottages hog it all the time. This place used to be a cigar factory. And a hospital as well.” She grinned. “Supposedly, it’s also haunted.”
“Seriously?” Lizzie’s voice gave away the fact that she was not immune to horror stories.
“My neighbor swears she once felt a cold woman’s hand on her forehead.”
Lizzie shrank back, the awe in her voice replaced by something that might well have been fear.
“Sarah, that’s horrible!”
“No, she liked it. She was sick at the time with a fever. She thinks it was a nurse.” Sarah put the pie in the freezer. “Let me get towels. I’m not sure if it’s my ghost story or the fact that you’re soaking, but you’re shaking.”
In the bathroom, she caught her reflection. Her hair had come loose from its ponytail, dripping wet. Her white blouse was soaked through, her bra visible underneath. She looked like she’d gone swimming fully clothed. She grabbed two towels and went back out.
Lizzie stood by the French doors with her arms wrapped around herself. Her t-shirt was plastered to her skin. Water dripped from her hair onto the hardwood.
“Here.”
Sarah held out a towel. Lizzie reached for it. Their fingers touched.
Neither of them moved.
Sarah could feel her pulse in her throat. Lizzie was so close. Close enough to see the water droplets on her eyelashes. Close enough to smell rain and that floral shampoo.
“Sarah.”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want to go back yet.”
Sarah’s grip tightened on the towel. This was the moment. She could do the smart thing. The professional thing. Call an Uber and send her home.
Or she could do what she wanted. It didn’t take long to come to a decision.
“Then stay.”
Lizzie took the towel but didn’t step back. “Are you sure?”
No. Sarah wasn’t sure about anything. But standing here with Lizzie dripping on her floors and looking at her like that, she was tired of being smart.
“I’m sure.”
Lizzie smiled. Small at first, then wider. She reached up and touched Sarah’s face, her fingers cool from the rain.
“Good. Because I’ve wanted to kiss you again all day.”
“Just all day?”
“No. Since the party, actually. Maybe even sooner.” Lizzie’s tongue raced over her lips and Sarah’s heart hammered.
“Well, that’s… good to hear.”
“Yes?” Lizzie smiled and stepped closer. “So. Are you going to kiss me or do I have to do it again?”
Sarah closed the distance. She kissed Lizzie slowly this time. Not desperate like before. Deliberate. A choice she was making with a clear head.
Lizzie gasped and dropped the towel. Her hands found Sarah’s waist, pulling her closer. Sarah’s hands went to Lizzie’s hair, wet and tangled.
They broke apart breathing hard.
“We should get out of these wet clothes,” Lizzie said.
Sarah laughed. “That’s the oldest line in the book.”
“Is it working?”
“Yeah.” Sarah took her hand. “Come on.”
She led Lizzie toward the bedroom, her hands unsteady, knowing this changed everything.
For once, she was doing something just because she wanted to.
***
The bedroom was just ahead but Lizzie pulled Sarah back against the wall and kissed her like she’d been starving for it. Sarah’s breath left her in a rush. This was different from the pool party kiss. Different from the bathroom. This was everything she’d been trying not to want.
Lizzie’s hands found the hem of her wet blouse. “This needs to come off.”
“Bossy.” But Sarah was already helping, fingers fumbling with buttons that suddenly seemed impossibly small.
“You’re the one who dragged me here in the rain.”
“You didn’t exactly resist.”
The blouse finally came free. Sarah shrugged it off and it hit the floor with a wet splat. Lizzie’s t-shirt was next, clinging stubbornly to wet skin. They broke apart laughing, wrestling with it until Lizzie got free.
Sarah stopped. Just looked.
Pale pink bra. Simple cotton. Nothing fancy. But on Lizzie it was perfect. Sweet and unpretentious and so completely her that Sarah had to touch.
She traced the edge of the fabric with her fingertips. Lizzie shivered.
“Cold?”
“No.” Lizzie pulled her close again. “Definitely not cold.”
They kissed and Sarah forgot about going slow. Forgot about being careful. Lizzie tasted like rain and want and three weeks of tension breaking. Sarah backed her toward the bedroom, hands sliding down to find the button on Lizzie’s shorts.
“These too.”
“Impatient.”
“You have no idea.”
Sarah got the button undone, pushed the shorts past Lizzie’s hips. Lizzie kicked them off somewhere in the hallway. Sarah’s own slacks were soaked through and uncomfortable. Lizzie helped her out of them, laughing when they got stuck on Sarah’s ankles.
By the time they reached the bedroom they were down to underwear and desperation.
Sarah’s bed was unmade from hitting snooze too many times that morning. White sheets tangled, pillows askew. She didn’t care. They fell onto it together.
Lizzie lay back against the pillows, hair wild and damp around her face. Sarah braced herself above her and just looked. This woman. This beautiful, infuriating, perfect woman who’d walked into her life and turned everything upside down.
“What?”
“You’re beautiful.”
Lizzie’s face flushed. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not.” Sarah kissed her softly. “I’ve wanted this since I first saw you in the lobby.”
“Really?”
“You walked in wearing those ridiculous tight shorts and I thought I was going to have a very difficult six weeks.”
Lizzie grinned. “And here we are.”
“Here we are.”
Sarah kissed her again, deeper this time. Lizzie’s hands were in her hair, pulling her closer. Their bodies pressed together and they both gasped at the contact. Skin on skin. Heat and softness and need.
Sarah unhooked Lizzie’s bra and slid it off. For a moment she just looked. Then she lowered her mouth to Lizzie’s breast and Lizzie gasped.
“Sarah…Sarah.”
Sarah used her tongue, circling slowly, then faster when Lizzie arched up into her. She paid attention to every reaction. The way Lizzie’s breathing changed. The sounds she made. The way her hands gripped Sarah’s shoulders.
She moved to the other breast and Lizzie was already squirming beneath her.
“Sarah, please.”
“Please what?”
“Touch me. I need you to touch me.”
Sarah kissed lower. Down Lizzie’s ribs, across her stomach. Her skin was warm and responsive. Every kiss made Lizzie’s breath catch.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You. Just you.”
Sarah hooked her fingers in Lizzie’s underwear and pulled them off slowly. Lizzie lifted her hips to help. She was completely bare now and Sarah had never seen anything more beautiful.
She kissed the inside of Lizzie’s knee. Moved higher up her thigh. Lizzie’s breathing was already uneven.
She kissed higher and Lizzie’s moan sent a jolt through her. Sarah settled between her thighs and Lizzie’s hands found her hair.