Chapter Twelve

The walk to the car from the restaurant was quiet. The buzz from the cocktail was all but gone, and that was okay. Taryn was in a good mood and knew this was a night she'd always look back on in wonder, making her excited for whatever might be ahead for them. Life had a way of truly delivering on surprises. She squeezed her shoulders together against the cold. The sky was clear, showing off how many stars it claimed, making it easy for her to see her own breath as they moved, hands shoved into pockets. She'd scarcely thought of much else for days. It was true that listening to Charlie talk, laughing with her, exploring a new place like this was amazing, but the elevated tension that came with not knowing when they'd get to touch, kiss, and explore was never far away in her mind. There was this constant physical draw that Taryn was finding harder and harder to ignore.

As Charlie pressed the ignition, bringing the car's engine to life, her hand went still on the gearshift. She turned to Taryn, pressing her cheek to the seat. Taryn's stomach tightened because though they were still early, she was already learning Charlie's looks. This one, eyes laced with hints of desire, was her absolute favorite.

"What if we just stopped the world for a moment?"

Taryn nodded, unable to fully come up with interesting words to speak while also being lost in those eyes. Her heart rate increased, her stomach went tight, and an infusion of warmth rushed from her shoulders to her fingertips and downward. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

The seconds that ticked by as they watched each other only seemed to drizzle gasoline on the fire that licked and danced between them. Charlie made the move before she could, placing a hand on Taryn's cheek and pressing her mouth firmly to Taryn's. It felt like a claim, like a burst of action that could not be held back a moment longer, and God, did Taryn identify.

Lips began to move. Arms reached. There was a quiet desperation now that they took what they wanted. Charlie's skin was warm as Taryn slipped her hands beneath the back of her sweater, a startling contrast to the crisp air pressed to the car windows. A roaring sprang up in Taryn's ears as they kissed, signaling the overwhelming need she wrestled with. It rushed rapidly south, blazing a trail of heat. This was beyond good, and Taryn warred between wanting to savor every second and driving them forward, forward, forward. Slanting her mouth over Charlie's for better access, she took everything Charlie offered, desiring more still. She longed to know what it was like to have Charlie beneath her, whispering her name, parting her legs, skin on skin. What an addictive dance they were.

"Too much," Charlie whispered, going in for another kiss, her tongue exploring Taryn's mouth. Her voice was different, and there was something mind-bogglingly sexy about that, the knowledge that Taryn had turned her on and sent her to somewhere affected and new. It fueled her determination.

The hands that had been at the small of Charlie's back began to wander, ambitious and without Taryn's total intention. Somehow she'd gained the upper hand and found herself leaning over the center console. She placed her palms flat against Charlie's ribcage, sliding them up more and more until her thumbs ran into the underside of Charlie's breasts, which just about short-circuited the remaining portion of Taryn's brain, power. Charlie nodded, her hands in Taryn's hair holding her in place.

That's when the laughter floated in the air, which was puzzling. As much as Taryn tried to ignore the now loud combination of overlapping voices, it oriented her and she remembered their surroundings.

"Dammit, I think they're parked next to us," Charlie said with wide eyes.

Taryn mimicked her expression and they sat up, righting themselves and adjusting their clothing like two fourteen-year-olds caught behind the movie theater. Laughter came next because the situation was harmless enough that they could see the humor and make fun of themselves.

"I think they stole our moment," Taryn said, as the intruding group of diners drove away.

"Temporarily," Charlie said, but there was a shy undercurrent to the way she carried herself that meant the spell had been broken. That was okay. They were early in this thing and still maneuvering the important details. Sex was certainly one of them. "We should probably get back."

"Fiiiine," Taryn said, drawing out the word like a petulant teenager. "Let's return to our regular boring lives when this parking lot was actually the nicest place I've visited in years." She folded her arms to demonstrate her feigned dismay.

"Don't be cute when I'm trying to do the responsible thing."

Taryn unfolded her arms automatically. "But only because you called me cute."

Charlie reached over and touched her chin affectionately before firing up the ignition and whisking them back to the Hillspoint bubble. They lingered and chatted and shared a brief kiss in front of Alexander, their first public show of affection that left Taryn feeling like the luckiest girl ever. True, the area had been mostly deserted, but she wasn't going to be choosy. She spent the rest of the night studying for the final she had in two days, in between drifting back to the memory of their evening together. When she finally closed her textbook, just shy of two a.m., she found a message waiting for her on her phone.

Off to bed. I will think about our night till sleep comes. And those thumbs. Night, Taryn.

Like a princess in a cartoon, Taryn's jaw dropped, she crushed the phone to her chest, and she fell back onto her bed, starry-eyed and smiley. When she'd arrived at Hillspoint that first day, she'd never once imagined that she'd run into her childhood crush and then fall down the rabbit hole of an actual burgeoning romance with her. Yet, somehow, here she sat. What was this life and how did she make sure she lived in it forever?

* * *

"'Tis the season to be flunked out, fa-la-la-la, la-la-la. Send us straight to a nice pour house, fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la."

Charlie smiled at the band of fraternity brothers standing in a line, wearing overly large mutton chops, known for their less-than-traditional caroling year after year. It was a Hillspoint tradition that she enjoyed—this year even more than others. Probably because everything just felt lighter. Charlie had a spring in her step, feeling more alive, hopeful, and like a truer version of herself than she had in years. And she knew why. She'd likely been doing it wrong all this time, forcing herself into relationships that looked good on paper rather than allowing herself to feel. Growing up with a man like her father taught her not to hope for too much and to shove down dreams and desires so there would be no chance for disappointment. If Taryn hadn't stepped back into her life, how would she ever have corrected her path? She imagined herself married to Danny and mildly content, wondering why nothing ever seemed to click into place for her the way it did other people.

"Do you think people can be completely oblivious to their own sexuality?" Charlie asked Anders, the librarian's assistant who never seemed to smile. He turned 180 degrees, now facing her, eyebrows low, mouth in a frown. He'd attempted one of those winter spray tans that hadn't gone in his favor.

He stared at her hard. "Who talked to you?"

She tilted her head. "What? No, I'm not talking about you, Anders. I've not heard any kind of scandal associated with your dating history."

"Oh." He visibly relaxed. "Well, then we're just speaking in the general sense?"

"We are. Very general."

"Well"—he turned to face her fully—"studies have shown that people discover their true sexualities at all sorts of different junctures in life, some being more fluid than others, of course. There are a lot of factors to take into consideration—exposure, life experience, religious expectations, personal bias."

"Right," she said, chewing on the information. "I imagine a certain person could trigger an awakening."

"They damn well can," he said softly, gazing past Charlie at the wall, lost in a sea of his own thoughts and what looked to be spicy memories.

She folded her arms and nodded. "We're really getting to know each other today, Anders."

"What?"

She grinned and gave his arm a rub. "Nothing. You stay right where you are because that looks really nice. I'll run the system update on this station for you." She slid between him and the computer. The least she could do for the guy.

"I appreciate that," he mumbled as the evening marched on, the library full of overcrowded tables, study groups exchanging notes and typing on shared Google Docs. There was a buzz in the air born of no sleep and overcrowded brains. Everyone was rushing to winter break and hurdling one exam at a time to get there. Luckily for Charlie, nearly all of her finals consisted of projects and papers she'd diligently prepared for in advance.

And as she left the library that evening, she paused on the steps because soft snowflakes had begun to fall. Backlit by the moon, they shimmered and swayed as they drifted to the ground with a grace that caught her right in the throat. Just then she heard the sound of a click, almost like a shutter, pulling her attention to life. There she saw Taryn seated on a bench, camera in her lap.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Taryn asked with a soft smile. "I have a feeling that's going to be a really breathtaking shot."

Charlie turned, a grin already tugging because this was the most fantastic surprise. "What is going on here? Have you emerged from the doldrums of your cram session? I wasn't expecting to see you for a few days." Taryn had been drowning, having not prepared for exams in as timely a manner as Charlie had. One way they were different.

"I'm out of jail on account of good behavior. I worked through lunch and dinner so that I might get to come say hi."

Charlie squinted in protector mode. She'd put on her black peacoat, navy newsboy cap, blue and white scarf, and matching gloves to exit the library in the frigid temps. Taryn, conversely, wore a light jacket and nothing else. Her dark hair was swept to one side and rested on her shoulder. Her neck was visible, stunningly attractive, and likely very cold. Yet another way they were different. "Where are your scarf and gloves?"

Taryn shrugged. "I like the cold, and this jacket is enough. Wanna sit?"

Charlie nodded and descended the remaining steps until she slid onto the bench next to Taryn. "Hi."

"Hi," Taryn said with a soft smile, her eyes never leaving Charlie's. "My day just improved. Tell me about yours. It's been hours since I've heard a single detail."

"Hours? Wow." Charlie took Taryn's bare hands in her gloved ones, attempting to keep them warm. "I did have a rather exciting morning."

"Already better than my History of Eastern Europe reading. What happened?"

Charlie sat a little taller, excited to share. "Remember the contact Monica set me up with at Broadland Rhodes? June DiCarlo?"

"The executive from the really fancy publishing house. Yes."

"She called this morning and wants to set up a time for me to come to New York for a meeting, which I think is code for interview. I talked to Monica afterward, and according to her, if June likes me, I'm golden. She said to get my writing résumé together and include the couple of awards my short stories have pulled in."

"Stop it. You've won awards?"

"Come over someday and I'll show you. All three of them." She added a laugh because Danny and Lawson had so many more.

"You could literally offer me uncooked broccoli from the kitchen floor and I'd be there."

"You offend my culinary ability."

"I forgot! You're like Julia something, the one with the accent."

"Child. And thank you. That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Way hotter than her, though. By a mile. Do you ever cook in just an apron?"

"Not yet."

"Such a good answer."

"Oh!" Charlie sat forward and turned. "And June also wants me to submit something I'm proud of, and I was considering the short story about the little boy. What do you think? I wasn't sure I should fully lead with my manuscript. She probably wouldn't want something so long. Plus, it feels like we should work up to the book, ya know?" The thoughts poured out of her like a faucet, a testament to how Taryn was a safe place where she could just share without fear of judgment or comparison.

"I love that story and think that's exactly what you should submit. June is going to eat it up."

Charlie took a deep, nervous breath. The idea of an actual career in publishing with Broadland Rhodes while also writing with the intent to publish with them one day was the ultimate dream come true. "If I have the opportunity to work near June DeCarlo in any capacity…" She trailed off because the concept was too staggering for her brain. "The connections I'd make alone would be invaluable." Not to mention, all the knowledge she'd acquire about an industry she'd always dreamed to be a part of. Plus, June knew she had writing aspirations, and Monica was confident she'd shepherd them along, offer advice, maybe even a critique. Who knew?

"So in a few months you're going to be an aspiring novelist and a publishing industry rock star, living in New York City of all places." Taryn turned. "I'm not sure you should be hanging out on benches with people who wait until the last minute to study about Europe."

She nodded. "Guess I'll go." As she stood, Taryn grabbed her hand and pulled her back down, this time much closer, pressed up against Taryn. Their gazes locked. "On second thought, I'll stay. It's nice here." Snowflakes dotted Taryn's dark hair, and when one fell onto her nose, Charlie couldn't resist. She leaned in and kissed it softly away.

"You're amazing," Taryn said quietly.

"Well, I like you. A lot. And you came to the library to surprise me. Want to walk to the Bump and Grind and have a boring black coffee?"

"You are temping me right now, but I only carved out a few minutes to lay eyes on you when you got off work."

Charlie looked behind them at the darkened lawn that was partially covered in snow now. "It's a fifteen-minute walk from Alexander over here."

"Worth the round trip for these five minutes. Best of my day."

She felt incredibly special. Taryn had done that. In many ways, it was difficult to let herself buy in after years of her father keeping her humble and under his thumb, and the last few trying to keep up with Danny's many accomplishments. But Taryn looked at her like she was the smartest, most important person in the world, and a little bit of that was starting to sink in.

"Will you kiss me before you have to go?" Charlie asked quietly.

"Always." Taryn nodded and brushed her lips over Charlie's, lingering as if she wanted the moment to extend into forever. Charlie went liquid beneath her touch, memorizing the smell of Taryn's shampoo and the faint press of her fingertips on Charlie's cheek. Everything.

"I was going to see if I could catch up and ask you what time grades are due, but you seem occupied."

Charlie turned to her right to see Emerson standing a few feet away, and her mood entirely shifted. Charlie straightened and her brain panicked. She stood and shoved her hands into her pockets feeling guilty, like she'd been seen stealing at the Walmart. Why? What was that about? She'd have to figure it out later.

"Emerson, hey. Why don't we walk together and talk about it?"

"Are you sure?" Emerson looked from Charlie to Taryn with a puzzled look. "I don't want to pull you away." She gave Charlie's arm a squeeze. "I had no idea you were seeing somebody."

"Oh. Um, this is Taryn. We're just getting to know each other." It sounded like a downplay, and the way the smile slid off Taryn's face sliced at Charlie. She hated herself for it, but she'd have to fix it later because she'd just gone into some sort of weird preservation mode. She wasn't homophobic. She wasn't ashamed of Taryn or herself. Yet there was something about this new area of her life that she was guarding like the keys to the kingdom.

"Yeah. We're super casual," Taryn said flatly. The light in her eyes that had been there just moments ago had fled. She rocked up on her toes, hands going into her pockets. "I better get back. You two have a good night."

"I'm Emerson, by the way," she called after Taryn.

"Really happy to meet you." However, her gaze was square on Charlie when she said it. Finally, she turned and, with a last dejected look, headed off across the lawn.

"Charlie," Emerson said quietly once they were alone. "I think it's a really good thing."

She pulled her focus from Taryn in the distance and back to Emerson. "You do?"

Emerson slid her arm through Charlie's. "And if you're worried what kind of gossip you might spark in the department because of your history with Danny, don't. People talk about new and interesting things for about five minutes before they move on. You hear me? Five minutes."

Suddenly, Charlie carried regret for all those times she'd written off Emerson as a surface-level friend who existed only in the cheerful column. How shortsighted of her. Because in this moment, she'd needed helpful words, and Emerson knew just the ones to say. Not only that, she seemed to mean them.

She turned and met Emerson's heartfelt green eyes. "You're a good person, Emerson. I mean that. I'm glad you're my friend."

"Really?" The comment seemed to resonate, and Emerson softened. "Thank you. I don't have a ton of friends, Charlie, but I've always considered you a good one. I hope you know that."

And before she knew what she was doing, Charlie pulled Emerson into a tight hug, aware of the tears that pooled in her eyes, aware of the snow falling more heavily all around them, and aware of the chiseling away of self-doubt that was happening in real time. There were people in the world who cheered for others, who lifted them up and made life a better place, and Charlie vowed silently to pay more attention to those people and mirror their light.

"Well, you're stuck with me," Charlie said, releasing her. "And I was going to swing by the Bump and Grind. Wanna come with me?" They'd been work friends and school friends but hadn't socialized a ton together outside of those umbrellas. Time to change all that.

"I'm in!" Emerson said. "I love that place. That have the hottest barista named Brian who wears these supremely tight T-shirts. You have to see." She paused. "But maybe you'd prefer his coworker Lara. I'm so sorry to presume."

"You know what? Let's head over there, and I'll tell you all about it."