Chapter Ten

Taryn walked into her apartment, closed the door, and stared at Caz and Sasha, who were seated on the floor, textbooks open. "Can everyone drop what they're doing and give me the best advice you've ever given anyone? I have girl problems."

"Don't we all," Sasha said, Red Bull frozen on the way to her lips.

Taryn also went still. "You have girl problems?"

"Newly. Didn't even know that was possible, but there was one at the vend-a-snack on the second floor who I'm pretty sure is my soulmate, but I don't know which room she lives in. The mystery is intense."

"Start knocking on doors in the name of love," Caz deadpanned with a shrug.

Taryn pointed. "That's what I need. Flat-out practical wisdom. Door knocking will produce the snack girl. But how do I get my babysitter to tell me her true feelings for me when I'm starting to suspect they're beyond just friendly?"

"I think you just one-upped me," Sasha said. "A babysitter trumps an unknown hungry girl."

"I can agree with that." Caz nodded. "Wait. What happened to the photography mentor? I thought she was who you were mixing and mingling with these days. The babysitter is straight."

"I need to take notes," Sasha said. "There are a lot of angles here."

Taryn blinked. The reference to Ashley threw her because she'd honestly not thought about her at all since Charlie had gone home from their tree-watching session. That had to say something.

"Nothing happened to Ashley. She's all well and good, but it's Charlie who is making my head spin, and I need a de-spinner."

Caz tilted her head. "Say more words."

"We need context," Sasha said, touching the floor with one finger. "My babysitter was sixty-two years old and not datable, so I find this confusing."

"Well, let me help. She's twenty-six, beautiful, kind, smart, and good at everything. I want to spend as many minutes as possible with her, and the more I do that, the more minutes I crave."

Caz nodded sagely as if to say right on. Sasha pointed. "How can I sign up for a babysitter like that?"

"You can't. She's rare and amazing and also really confusing. That's the problem. We were this close to having a real conversation about whatever it is that's bubbling between us—"

"I applaud the use of bubbling." Caz jotted a note in her phone.

"—when one of her students interrupted."

"She teaches, too?" Caz asked and fanned herself. "This just gets hotter and hotter. Maybe I need to start swiping right on grad students so I can have hot and sophisticated problems, too."

"Hot and sophisticated is not off base." She shifted her lips to the side. "Can't vouch for other grad students, but with us? Everything feels very close to igniting. Yet it doesn't, and there are good reasons for that. Did I mention she's practically engaged to a guy who thinks he's a better writer than she is?"

"We hate him," Sasha said automatically.

"Well, we're definitely not rooting for him," Caz said, a little more tempered. "I think you set up another time to speak with her."

"I do, too," Taryn said. "I need words, though. An angle that's considerate of her feelings, but honest about my own. I also need courage, because Charlie is someone I like most in this world, but also someone who intimidates the hell out of me."

"Because you're vulnerable to her," Sasha added, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "She's capable of stomping on your heart in a way no one else is."

They swiveled to her.

"Yes," Taryn said, amazed at the wisdom from an unexpected source. She hadn't been giving Sasha enough credit. She plopped down, mulling over her feelings. "I've been ignoring-slash-burying my feelings for months. Now I have this little kernel of hope, and it's causing all sorts of problems."

"Damn the kernel," Caz said. "But also, what if it leads to an awesome bowl of romantic popcorn? Who doesn't want their boring kernel to explode into wonderful?"

Taryn dropped her head back. "I just have a hard time believing that it could. At the same time, I don't want to give up my kernel now that I have it."

Sasha scrunched one eye closed. "I think you have to. Don't you?"

A big pause. They were giving her the space to answer for herself. "Yeah. I have to risk the lost kernel."

"You have to risk the kernel!" Caz yelled back in celebration. "Let's gooo!"

With a deep exhale for courage, Taryn nodded and carried her phone into the hallway. She could text Charlie, but a phone call seemed more personal. She waited as the call went through, aware of her own heartbeat and its vigor.

"You're calling me?" Charlie asked, her voice friendly. She was definitely smiling. "That's new."

Everything in Taryn relaxed. There was nothing to be afraid of. This was Charlie. "I wanted to hear your voice."

A pause. "Oh. That…makes me happy."

That had to be a good sign, right? "I was hoping you had time for a conversation. I could meet you for dinner or swing by your place."

Another pause.

Maybe she'd caught Charlie at a bad time. Maybe Charlie didn't want to continue their conversation. Her suspicion said otherwise as she flashed on Charlie in front of her classroom, imparting knowledge with a gentle confidence. She pressed her nails into the palm of her hand as she awaited a response, the pain holding her attention and keeping her from panicking. "Or we can skip it."

"No, no," Charlie rushed to say. "Um, we should. Right? Why don't you come over?"

"I can be there in fifteen minutes. Should I bring, I don't know, a bottle of wine? What's fitting?"

"I have wine. Get over here."

Taryn remembered to breathe. All was well. They would talk. Things would clear up, and at the very least, she'd know more than she did now. "On my way. Not at all afraid."

"Hey. Just me."

Warmth settled in the center of her chest. "You're right. And that's the best part."

"See you soon, Taryn," Charlie said, her voice a tad quieter.

When she opened the door to her room, she smacked straight into Caz and Sasha, who had been pressed against the door.

"Owww. How about a little warning?" Sasha asked, hand to her forehead.

"I feel like it's a fair trade-off for access to my call."

"There was no resisting the listen in," Caz said desperately. "We are on Team Taryn over here, and that means we can't be left out of this very important moment in your young, gay life. This might be a story we tell your grandchildren someday."

"We should probably slow down."

"Where's your sense of romance?" Caz asked.

"It's cautious in its approach. But thank you for the cheerleading. Now"—she grinned—"I gotta go."

"Yeah, you do," Sasha said, pulling her into a tight squeeze. "You're giving me so much motivation to find snack girl. Now, go turn your kernel into popcorn."

"I'm never going to regard popcorn the same again." Taryn grabbed her keys and backed out of the room. "You know that, right?"

"Nor should you," Caz said, handing her her bag. "Get out of here."

Taryn, with an extra shot of energy, did just as they said and covered the short distance to Charlie's place. The moon was full and lit her journey like a beacon encouraging her mission. She'd left her coat at home, making the walk to Charlie's door a chilly one, the cold blast actually helping her harness her nerves and focus. More determined than ever, Taryn knocked and waited a few moments before Charlie appeared and the world slowed the hell down. Well, look at her. Taryn's heart clenched, and she went all soft and gaga like a lovesick puppy. Charlie's hair was in a ponytail with several strands escaping. They framed her face with a gentleness that was the epitome of Charlie. She wore a pair of gray sweats with a pink stripe down the side that made her look adorable and cuddly and ridiculously cute. If this didn't go well, Charlie's whole look was going to make this exceptionally more difficult.

"Hey, you." Charlie looked behind her. "Come in. Come in." She scrunched her shoulders. "So cold out there."

"Hi," Taryn said, meeting her gaze. If she'd been nervous on her way here, it tripled as she crossed the threshold into the apartment.

"Red or white?"

"Always gravitated to red."

Charlie poured and presented her with a long-stemmed glass of cabernet. "I hope you like the cheap stuff."

"It's my favorite." She followed Charlie into the living room and took a seat across from her on the couch. "How was the rest of your day? Had to be downhill after being such a badass during that lesson this morning."

"That's the thing about grad school life. Just as soon as you find a little bit of confidence, it's dashed as you're humbled in the most public way possible. Danny's most recent short story apparently only got better with revisions while my classmates felt I hadn't gone far enough with mine."

"They're all just trying to make their way, and acting like they know more about that story than you do is just part of that routine."

"I'm not sure that's true, but you get so many bonus points for saying so."

"I'll take them." A pause. "After class, I felt like we were in the midst of something, I don't know, key."

"Key. That's one word for it." Charlie's eyes searched the wall as if the answers she was looking for were inscribed there. She downed half her glass of wine as if it was a lifeline to sanity.

Taryn set hers aside. "The last words you said to me on that sidewalk were to be specific, and I've played them over and over in my head more times than I can tell you, because this is important."

Charlie's eyes held anguish. She was battling herself, and Taryn could feel it the short distance across the couch. As if hearing Taryn's thoughts, Charlie stood and walked across the room and absently picked up a small statue of a lighthouse and studied it. "I was feeling so brave in that moment. Adrenaline left over from the successful session in class."

"Well, maybe I'm on adrenaline now," Taryn said, following Charlie and pausing behind her. "But I'm feeling brave." She swept a section of Charlie's hair off her shoulder to reveal her neck, smooth and perfect. She resisted the urge to run her finger across it.

"Taryn," Charlie whispered achingly. Her hands, still holding the statue, went still. "This could change everything." There was a vulnerability behind her voice that Taryn had not heard before. Yet that softness, Charlie's willingness to show herself, infused every inch of Taryn's being.

She was trembling on the edge and dying for that first touch, that first taste. She wanted to kiss Charlie into oblivion, stare into her eyes for hours without having to hide her feelings. When it was just them, the world faded to the edges, and she wanted to live in that space for as long as humanly possible. She took a step closer, her breasts now lightly touching Charlie's back. "I don't want to blow your life up, Charlie, but I know what I'm feeling, and it's all-consuming. You are. I know what I want and it's you and me."

Silence took over. Taryn was well aware of her own heartbeat in her ears.

Finally, Charlie turned and faced Taryn, and their connection locked into place. "Blow it up," Charlie whispered, her blue eyes dark and determined. She'd never looked more beautiful in her life. Gently, Taryn eased a strand of that blond hair behind Charlie's ear. She slowly lowered her lips to Charlie's, aware of the soft sound of her breathing, reveling in the warm tickle of her breath on Taryn's mouth. When their lips pressed, Taryn's knees almost buckled, her breasts most certainly tingled, and her body went hot with desire now unleashed—held back for longer than Taryn had even realized. She'd wanted this woman with a passion she hadn't even fully admitted to herself, and here she was, beneath Taryn's touch. As Charlie's lips began to move with hers in a perfect rhythm all their own, her body hummed and ached, finally where it wanted to be for so damn long. The heat, the sizzle, the unmistakable chemistry leapt every expectation Taryn carried with her. They kissed slow and deep, and it was Charlie who first angled for better access and slipped her tongue into Taryn's mouth, an act that exponentially challenged her legs' ability to hold her up. She was certainly unprepared for how Charlie's kiss would affect her. She would plan better next time. She hoped there'd be more.

"God, I love kissing you," Taryn said quietly, refusing to move from this very spot and her close proximity to Charlie.

Charlie nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Me, too." A pause and she dropped her head back. "I can't believe we just did that. Did the last few moments really just happen?"

"I think so," Taryn said. "Are you…okay with all of this?"

"I'm trying to be. I have these feelings for you that are new and awesome and alarming and not at all in any semblance of order."

Taryn could sense a but on its way. She braced herself.

"But we're a little out of order here."

The world came crashing in. "You have a boyfriend."

"Right. And we probably shouldn't have kissed."

Taryn absorbed the words she knew were true but didn't want to face. She wasn't someone who went around knowingly breaking up relationships, or kissing people who were already attached to others, but something felt…meant-to-be in this scenario, and she'd leapt with her eyes closed. "Do you mean ever or…?"

Charlie looked thoughtful. It was clear all of this was weighing on her, and Taryn hated to be any kind of stress in Charlie's world. "I need to talk to Danny. I need to think some things through. I'm a fish out of water right now and want to make sure I don't act impulsively."

She hadn't said she was ending things with him. If anything, she seemed confused, which was perfectly okay, but also somewhat devastating if you were in Taryn's shoes. "I can give whatever time you need, but know that I'm steady. I'm here and not going anywhere."

"But do we make sense, Taryn? I'm about to graduate."

"And in a year and half, I will, too, and then we'll both be out of school for the rest of our lives. This is just a blip of time. Not that I'm proposing, or getting ahead of myself." She held up her hands. "I don't want to do that."

"I'm five years older than you."

"You told me I'm wise beyond my years."

Charlie smiled and her cheeks dusted with pink. "Do you have an answer for everything?"

"Yes," Taryn said automatically, fully believing that she did. If nothing else, she was excellent at debate points.

Charlie laughed. "Why are you so cute?"

"I'd love to hear your theory on that."

"What about Ashley?"

"Who?" Taryn tilted her head.

"Good answer." Charlie reached for Taryn's hand and threaded their fingers.

She looked down at them, liking the look, feel, and reality of the physical contact. She would never get used to this. The perfect fit. "Is this a violation?"

"Hard to say, but I just wanted a moment of connection to you before—"

"You kick me out? You're about to do that, aren't you?"

Charlie met her gaze. "I don't trust myself not to kiss you again."

"You probably shouldn't trust me either. I'll go." She hesitated. "When will I see you again? I don't want to walk out of here, and we pretend like none of this happened. I don't think I could take that, Charlie."

"That won't happen."

"Then when?"

"Maybe we can have dinner soon. But I want time to think. To talk to Danny. To work things through." Her gaze brushed the ceiling. "Taryn, this is all so unexpected, and it's happening in the midst of my last year when there is already so much on my plate."

"That sounds ominous."

"Don't. I'm just being as honest I can be."

"I know you are." She offered a small smile. "And I don't want to make your life harder than it has to be."

"You make my life better," Charlie said without delay. "I'm more than clear on that portion." The comment hit Taryn in the chest and spread out, leaving her warm and happy.

"You, too. I mean that." She gave Charlie's hand a squeeze before letting go. Not the good-bye she'd have chosen if she'd had her way, but it would have to do. "Don't think too hard, okay?"

"Tall order. And aren't you the resident overthinker?"

Taryn turned back. "And I speak from experience when I say it sucks. I much prefer to feel these days."

"I won't if you won't."

"Deal. Good night, Charlotte Adler."

"Good night, Taryn Ross."

Charlie closed the door, and Taryn walked to the parking lot of the apartment complex in shock and awe. Had that really just happened? Had she made out with Charlie in her living room, and had it been the most intoxicating, wonderful experience of her entire life? Why, yes. To all of that. A resounding yes! And though nothing was figured out, squared away, or decided upon, she allowed herself this tiny moment in time to live in the wonder of it all. She wasn't alone in her feelings, and that felt like a validation she'd very much needed.

Standing alone on the sidewalk, she pulled her camera from her bag, turned it around, and smiled as she clicked blindly on the shutter. It wouldn't be the cleanest selfie ever shot, but she wanted to remember this moment and the way she felt in it for all time. Because she was Taryn, but she wasn't. In her place was this new version who now understood what it felt like to be fully alive. She turned in a small clichéd circle, smiled at the twinkling stars above, and made a promise to herself that whatever happened, tonight was more than worth it.

* * *

There was no way around it, this was going to be hard. Charlie sat on the steps that led up to her door and checked her watch. How did you properly disappoint someone you deeply cared about? Charlie didn't know how she was going to do it. Her nerves were frayed, she was on very little sleep, and her stomach churned, but she had to be honest with Danny about what was happening within her. Was it a sexual awakening? A self-realization or discovery? Or was this just about the intense connection she had with Taryn in particular? She didn't have the answers, but she had to find them. Was she about to press pause on her assumed future on a whim?

No. That's not what this was. Her feelings were real. Time had proven them so. It didn't mean she was any clearer about how to handle all the intricacies of the situation. There were so many plans. Was she supposed to undo them all now? God, what would that even look like?

She placed her face in her hands and closed her eyes, waiting for the universe to shower her with the wisdom she needed to choose the proper path and answer all of these questions. But all she saw in her mind's eye was the moment she first kissed Taryn playing on a loop that made her so ridiculously happy. If that wasn't a sign, what was?

"Hey. You okay?"

She popped her head up and blinked. Danny stood in front of her wearing black basketball shorts and a baby-blue Nike Swoosh shirt, which meant he'd likely just come from a pickup game. He wasn't the most athletic of humans, but he had fun on the court and definitely looked the part.

"Sorry. Yes. I was lost in thought."

"Since when do you think with your head in your hands? You look like the picture of utter despair." Leave it to a writer to characterize her struggle. He slid onto the step next to her and didn't wait for an answer, which was honestly kind of standard. Danny often had a trajectory from which he didn't deviate. "Hey, Lawson has been getting close with that girl I told you about. Lindsey someone, and we were thinking that we could all get away for a weekend soon. Maybe one of those cabins along Lake Michigan. I've narrowed down a few options for you to peruse."

"I don't know."

He frowned. "Are you worried about your schedule at the library? I'm sure if you gave them notice, they'd accommodate."

"Maybe if it was you. Everyone accommodates you." He stared at her, and she regretted the statement, which had come with a bite in her tone. Why was she going there? There was no reason to lash out. Yes, Danny had things a little bit easier. He was talented and rich and well-connected. None of that was part of the reason she needed to step back. Focus. Breathe. And explain. She held up a hand. "I'm sorry. I've been on edge lately."

"I've noticed." He shrugged. "So let's break it down. We can get you back on track. Is it the workload, the writing, the stress of what's next?"

"All of those things. But Danny, there's more than that, and I need to be up front with you, hard as that may be."

"Okay. Then do that. I wouldn't want you to be anything else." He scratched a spot above his lip, a sign of his brain at work, which she used to find so endearing. She still did, but now it didn't feel like hers to appreciate. "I'm listening."

He took her hand and she let him. "You know my friend, Taryn." She'd once introduced them in passing at the library. He'd been uninterested at the time, mainly because Taryn had been quiet and seemingly not as impressed as most other people who'd met Danny McHenry.

"The undergrad? Yeah. Cool enough girl." He squinted as if trying to assemble the pieces ahead of time.

A pause. She didn't have the perfect words and decided to lead with facts. "We kissed two nights ago."

"She kissed you?"

"And I kissed her."

He was still for a moment. "Forgive me if I'm caught off guard."

"No, I get it."

He stood and walked a few paces away, hands on his hips. He was processing. She knew him well enough to recognize his cues.

"I'm sorry." It was all she had.

"You're sorry and you want me to forgive you, or you're sorry and you want to kiss this Taryn girl some more?" His eyes held hurt, not anger.

"Please don't say it that way."

He whirled around. "Fuck me. You're serious?" He shook his head because she hadn't reassured him. "You want to pursue something with her?" He had clearly not been expecting it to go that way. No one turned Danny down for anything, a stranger to rejection in all its forms.

"Maybe. I have real feelings that I've tried to ignore, and that seems to have made them stronger."

Danny took a breath, softened, and came to sit next to her again. "I get it. I've had the same feelings here and there, but you know what? It's just the pressure of all that's ahead. We're about to start life with all of its huge, suffocating demands, and it's easier to just fixate on something else."

He was explaining things to her as if she wasn't someone who could navigate this situation on her own, and it was exactly the behavior that had made it hard for her to breathe the past few years.

"Please don't minimize the way I'm feeling."

He nodded. "I apologize. I just think if you take a step back, you'll see that this is a wild hair that you will likely regret in six months. We're good, Char. You and I make sense. We're writers who see the world through a similar lens." He exhaled. "And it's what your mother wanted for you."

Low blow. She closed her eyes, shocked that he'd gone there. The pain slashed through her, nevertheless. Her mother's memory was a soft spot for her, and living in a way that would make her mom proud was her most important goal. And he knew that.

"I'm just doing the best I can," she said, emotion grabbing her throat, making words difficult. "But I owe it to myself to find me. Find my happiness. She would want that, too."

He stood, nodding. "What if I'm not here when you come to your senses?"

"It's a risk I have to take."

His hands went into his pockets and his gaze locked on hers. "Perfect. I guess I'll see you in class."

"Danny."

Her turned around slow, hands still in pockets, chin tilted back. There were so many things she could say in this moment to smooth things over, to give him hope, or to explain herself further. "What about your mom?"

"Don't tell her. She had a busy month, and this would break her heart."

Charlie nodded. It was a request she could grant if it would make this any easier on him. "Understood. I'll follow your lead."

He hesitated. "You sure you want to do this?" His eyes were soft, and it broke her heart. They'd had some good times together, and this felt like the end of an important era. She wasn't good with endings. In fact, she hated them.

"I have to, Danny."

"Gotcha." He offered one affirmative nod and rounded the corner to the parking lot, not looking back.

Now alone, and reeling, Charlie didn't move. She let the sadness, the fear, and the guilt wash over her. In a few minutes, she'd wipe her tears and think about what was next. But first, she needed to let herself come to terms with good-bye, not just for her relationship with Danny but for the person she no longer was. As she sat on those steps hugging her knees to her chest, she watched the sun sink in the sky, bursting into vibrant pinks, purples, and oranges in one of the more gorgeous displays she could remember experiencing. It was a stunning transition that resonated with her on such a personal level that it sent an uncomfortable lump to her throat and brought happy tears to her eyes.

Because no. She shouldn't just be grieving. She should also be celebrating the excitement of what might lie ahead. This very easily could be the first step in the rest of her ridiculously happy life, and she should mark it appropriately.

If this was a new chapter for Charlie, she wanted to give it all the effort and attention it deserved. She was both terrified and excited, and that was okay. But one thing she wasn't going to be was closed off or untrue to herself. That stopped now.

She stood, wiped her tears, and gave herself a small squeeze as the sun continued to show off its sky-painting ability. "And here we go," she said quietly.