“Yes. Very.”
“Was she upset that you saw her?”
“I think she liked messing with me.”
“How was she messing with you? She didn’t think you’d be home.”
“She was… flirting.”
“Mmm.” Opal’s eyebrows raised in interest.
“Not for real. To mess with me.”
“And it messed with you?”
“I came home to find my fake wife–roommate naked and posing with my Janice Domingos!” Sullivan hissed.
“Were the Domingos the issue?” Opal said, opening her eyes wide in mock curiosity.
“Yes. No. Obviously not.”
“If you saw her, and you’re attracted to her, maybe that’s a good thing. You get to be attracted to people again. It’s good to notice a beautiful woman. It means you’re over Aubrey. And if you didn’t make her uncomfortable. If you worked it out, and it wasn’t too weird, well…”
Sullivan’s mind raced to Kia’s body and imagined tracing every curve, tattoo, and tan line. Every bone. Every scar. She closed her eyes to push the thought away, but that only brought it into focus.
“I’m not in love with Kia Jackson,” Sullivan said.
“Oh.” Opal’s eyes widened behind her glasses. “In love. I thought we were just talking about her supple, young body.”
“She’s only six years younger than me.”
“And you’re in love. Wait till I tell Nina.”
“I am not. You should not. I’m just—”
Opal ambled a few steps away. That was as much ambling as the small kitchen allowed. Nonetheless, Sullivan knew her protests would be lost in the sound of searing scallops unless she projected her voice like she did during service. Blake did not need to know her business. Sullivan threw up her hands.
After that, Sullivan poured every ounce of focus into her prep work for the butternut squash risotto, trying to replace the memory of Kia’s body with thoughts about seared ahi and arugula. It didn’t work.
chapter 20
Saturday morning Kiaand Sullivan stood on the sidelines of the She-Pack game. Kia took a selfie. In a few minutes, Georgie would start to deflate in the humidity, but for now, the mist caught in her hair, turning the tips white like a dandelion. She was going to use the selfie as an excuse to put her arm around Sullivan and take another picture, but Sullivan looked exhausted. She hadn’t come home until three. Kia had been simmering with curiosity verging on jealousy at the thought that Sullivan might be with someone. Maybe Sullivan needed to blow off steam with a discreet friend with benefits. But when Sullivan came home, Kia had wandered downstairs in her thin, low-cut striped nightgown, pretending to be half asleep and surprised to see Sullivan. Sullivan had explained that she’d had to do extra prep to make time for the She-Pack game in the morning. Then she’d invited Kia, and only on her way up the stairs had Sullivan added,It’ll be good stuff for your socials.
Now Kia held out her coffee with marshmallow.
“Want some?”
Sullivan took it gratefully. She put her lips on Kia’s travel mug. She smiled over the rim. Kia felt like she was going to swoon.
“I will never admit that coffee is good,” Sullivan said.
“But you know it is.”
Sullivan stared at the field while the players, unexplainably, bunched together and lifted a teammate over their heads so theplayer could throw the ball.
“Everything you do is good.”
Kia wasn’t sure she’d heard Sullivan right. Could a person’s desire for their crush to like them cause auditory hallucinations?
