The minute I heard the words Isabelle and labour, everything else made sense. The relief I feel is unimaginable. We've always been able to sense each other's pain and discomfort. Emotions, but with me and Isabelle it's always stronger.
Grace is driving us home while Sierra is in the back seat with me. I have long forgotten my jacket on the floor somewhere and I'm seconds away from taking the rest of my clothes off. My hair is completely down now because even it in its messy bun was irritating and that says a lot because my hair is always up and never down. I'm lying in the backseat with my head in Sierra's lap. Her hand is combing through my hair and I can feel her face close to the side of mine.
"We're almost there." Grace volunteers and those words hit me like rain to a dry desert.
I close my eyes and breathe for a minute before I lift my head, ending up face-to-face with Sierra. "How are you feeling?"
"Don't ask me that," I tell her in a whisper.
She caresses the side of my face, her face pressing up against mine. "You're in pain."
I scuff at the truth behind her words. It was very bearable. Very faint. But still there and I hate that.
She gives me an encouraging smile. "You're a Queen, this is nothing for you to get through."
"I'm not as strong as you, Sierra. I thought you knew this."
"You're stronger." She presses her lips to mine, kissing me gently. I can only enjoy it for a second before I feel the car jerk to a stop in our garage. "We're here," Grace announces, hopping out of the driver's seat.
She climbs into the back, wearing my jacket, and takes my hand. Almost everything I am feeling disappears. "Come here, baby." She coaxes, gently pulling me towards the door.
I allow her to lead me out, Sierra following close behind with a supporting hand on my back. As soon as I reach the porch, I see Sloane unmounting her car. We, mainly me, invited her over to ride out whatever this is. Particularly because she's feeling it too and I'm curious how she's feeling me just as strong as Grace and Sierra. I need to understand this bond. It doesn't make sense to me.
She climbs the steps towards us. "How are you feeling?"
"Why does everyone keep asking that?"
"Maybe because we care," she answers, annoyed.
I feel the corners of my lips tipped up into a smile. "I fee...I don't know. Just not well. It's hard to explain."
Sierra keeps an arm around me as we enter through the front door. I'm praying the pain medication I took will start working soon. Grace is holding my hand the whole time but releases it to enter the passcode for our security system. Without a passcode, it'll stealthily contact the FBI and they'll have this house surrounded within ten minutes. We don't want that right now.
"Wow," Sloane breathes as we walk into the living room. I look over at her, seeing her gazing around the place, taking in all the pictures, the portraits, the decors. The wonder in her eyes is almost childlike. I've only ever seen one other person with that much pure, innocent curiosity. Sierra.
"This place is beautiful," she concludes, finally. "Maybe I chose the wrong career."
I snicker at her statement, dropping myself down on the couch. Billie finds me and I pick him up, perching him in my lap. "Alexa, tell Irelee to come downstairs."
Okay.
A second later, I hear her tiny footsteps running down the hall upstairs. "Don't run down the stairs," Sierra tells her, but I swear she's just like me and she's already halfway down, too fast to stop.
She descends with a huge grin and runs straight up to Grace, jumping at her. "Mommy, you're back!"
"Oh, so Mommy is all you see now, huh?" I tease with a pout. "I'm invisible?"
As she slips out of Grace's hold, I hear her laugh. Grace offers Sloane a seat before she heads to the kitchen. Irelee's eyes find me, holding my gaze with a mischievous smile as she goes up to Sierra where she is sitting down on the far end of the couch. I narrow my eyes at her, daring her and she takes the dare, climbing onto Sierra's lap and wrapping her arms around her neck.
"Hi Princess," Sierra kisses her forehead. "Were you good to grandma?"
Lee nods. "Yes. I picked up my toys and I read a story for JJ."
"Yeah?" I asked with piqued interest. "Which one?"
"Peter Pan." She tells me coming over. She halts mid-journey when her eyes land on Sloane. For a long time, she just stares at her, then me, then back at Sloane.
Confusion flashes across her face as she quickly glances towards Grace, Sierra back at me, then settling on Sloane again. We all watch her, just as puzzled.
"What is she doing?" Sloane leans over and asks me in a low voice.
"Trying to figure this out."
"Lee, sweetheart, it's not like that." Grace breaks the silence, coming back over with a couple of beers.
Her little frown deepens, and she continues over, hopping at me. Her head finds my chest as she cuddles me, but her guarded eyes are still on Sloane.
"Like mother like daughter." I hear Sierra say as she switches on the TV. Grace takes a seat next to her and they are immediately cuddling under the throw blanket.
I kiss the top of Lee's head. "Baby, why are you so quiet?"
She lifts her head to look at me. "Who's that?"
"That's one of Mommy's friends. Sloane,"
"Soone?"
"Slo-nuh."
"Or just call me Steph. I prefer that anyway." Sloane tells her with a friendly smile.
"Steph." She tries it out and when she's satisfied with it, she comes close to whisper in my ear. "Can I touch Steph's hair?"
"Uh, that you'll have to ask her, babe."
She hesitates, but soon she's next to Steph, whispering in her ears. Sloane actually lets her play with her hair and it isn't even long before Irelee has a whole brush and a set of hair ties and bows decorating it.
I FaceTime Isabelle and when she picks up, I see her laying in the bed beneath a blanket. She looks me over with a chuckle. "Why are you so fancy? This is the birth, not the baptism, you know."
"Oh shush. You interrupted my dinner. How are you feeling?"
"Fantastic."
"Huh?" I'm confused. "You took the epidural?"
"Nope. All natural." She beams. "Like I'm feeling nothing. Maybe a little pressure here and there with every contraction, but that's about it. Very bearable."
My face falls and I swear the blood leaves my body for a minute before it returns with a raging anger. "you're telling me that you are feeling nothing? Absolutely nothing while I am high on painkillers! I'm not even the one having a baby!"
She stares at me, taken aback, then burst out laughing. "Well, that sucks for you. Sorry sissy,"
I pout. "I hate this. This is unfair."
She continues to beam. "Well, at least this proves that you're our actual real sister and not an imposter."
I scuff. "Is Jordan there?" She nods and spins the camera around.
He is trying his best at a foot massage. "Sup' sister-in-law?"
"I'll tell you what's up. Get her pregnant again and I'm going to shoot you."
"No, she's not." She told him through a laugh. Her face comes back into view. "We're going to start trying again this time next year. Hopefully, going for a boy."
"Isabelle," I massage my temples. "I swear to God, you better find a way to break this twin telepathy bullshit because I refuse to feel like this again."
Her smile calms me. "Little sister, worry not. You'll be fine. How're my nephews?"
I check my watch, but the tickles of the piano keys pull my attention away from it. Sloane is on the stool, her hair still in raggedy sectioned ponytails secured by an assortment of hair bubbles and bows. Her fingers are poised and delicate as they tickled melodies from the keys. Lee is beside her, watching her keenly, the way her fingers move, the way her foot moves as she plays. For a second I get lost in the tunes until Isabelle calls my attention again. "They're fine. In bed." I tell her finally.
"And my niece?"
"Busy playing the piano."
"She plays?"
"Well, not really. She's learning." I'm shocked to see Lee join in, tickling the chords too. Sloane lets her and they're there playing together. Lee is playing in a lower key than the redhead but it sounds just as beautiful.
Then she starts to sing.
Cold bones, yeah, that's my love
She hides away, like a ghost
Does she know that we bleed the same?
Don't wanna cry, but I break that way
"She's actually playing." Grace voiced, surprised. I'm honestly just as stunned, but I'm more enthralled by the voice of an angel.
Cold sheets, but where's my love?
I am searching high
I'm searching low in the night
Does she know that we bleed the same?
Don't wanna cry, but I break that way
"I was just checking in though, Iz. Keep me posted?"
She nods. "I think you'll know when it happens. Bye, love you."
Did she run away?
Did she run away? I don't know
"Love you." I hang up and put the phone away, giving her my undivided attention.
If she ran away
If she ran away, come back home
Her eyes find me, holding my gaze very briefly before she looks back at the piano.
Just come home
Her voice fades into the keys of the piano again as she plays what feels like an outro.
"Didn't know you play... Or sing," I say.
She turns her grey eyes to me. "Yeah. There's a lot you won't know about me even after doing a background check. My dad made me..." She trails off with a frown, then her fingers leave the keys. I almost protest, but I control the urge.
"I didn't do a background check. I merely looked you up in my systems."
"Hmm. To see if I'm who I say I am? If I'm here to steal your woman? But what if I'm here to steal you?" Standing, she comes back over to the couch. Lee stays to play her newly learnt song. She sits between me and Grace, but her head finds my shoulder as she begins to take the bubbles out. A bold ass move. Very bold, but I can't even be upset, as surprised as I am. My body tenses at the close contact and all I'm inhaling is the scent of her Chanel perfume.
"Well, look at that," Sierra observes with a smug smile.
I roll my eyes, turning to address Sloane. "When I said not to pursue any of my women, that included me, you know."
"Hmmm." She hums, "But you're not my type, though."
"Oh? And what exactly is your type?"
"Shorter, kinder—"
"So, Grace."
"I didn't say it, you did–" My fingers slowly closing around her neck renders her silent. I lift her head so she could see this wasn't a joke. I would fuck her up if she tries anything. What I didn't anticipate was the look in her eyes when her gaze locked with mine. A sea of wonder, curiosity, and newfound joy. A certain kind of fire, rare and contradicting to her innocence. Complexity, a mystery waiting to be solved. I'm aware I'm staring too long and I need to break this contact, but I can't. I'm physically unable to. What is this?
We're bonding.
What! What!! No, no, no!
I'm so sorry, Emilie
Oriane, no! Wait! wait! Wait...
I can't. It's out of my control. I'm sorry.
Oh my God....
Don't panic. You're panicking.
I am panicking. At this moment, I realise I'm in deep shit. There this invisible string is again, and it's pulling me in. She's pulling me in and soon I'll drown in the depths of these stormy grey eyes.
Just as I think about it, it happens. Snatching me like claws sinking into my skin, then swallowing me whole. Faint, it presents itself at first. The growing intensity feels like it's taking a thousand years, but from having already been through this twice, I know it only takes the split of a millisecond. But everything seems longer when you're dreading it. When you're fearing it. When it's not in the prospect of how things are supposed to happen. The inevitability of it, when you want nothing more than to stop it, knowing that you can't. At that moment you think about all you regret. Like ever suggesting dinner or meeting her, to begin with. Like ever inviting her home, touching her. Why the fuck did I—
It finally erupts. A flash of bright green that disappears just as quickly as it appears. My heart stops. Breathing is now something I'm no longer able to do. The world around me fades. Every sound, everything. Everyone. Then it all comes back in a panic. My heart was racing, my breathing frantic. Borderline hyperventilation.
"Oh, shit! Uh, baby come here we got to go." I hear the faintness of Grace's statement and a muffle of her telling Sierra to let's go.
My hand slips from Sloane's neck. She's just as dazed as I am. Confused. She doesn't know what just happened but I do. I do and I wish it didn't happen. It's not supposed to happen. This shouldn't... It shouldn't have been this type of bond. Fuck!
FUCK!
My head snaps towards where Grace had been a few seconds ago but she's no longer there. Irelee is no longer by the piano. Sierra is no longer there. I feel my anger building and before I know it, I'm rising from the couch with my spear in my hand.
"Graciela!"
**
I teleport myself upstairs to Irelee's bedroom. Standing by the door, I wait. They're reading her the next chapter of Peter Pan and are almost through. Good, because I'm going to squeeze the life out of Grace as soon as she sets foot through this door. Every now and again she looks up at me and I can smell the fear on her. Her heart is going wild in her chest and she's dreading the end of the story. Drawing it out as long as possible with questions. But does she know everything ends eventually and tonight will most highly be the end of her?
"Heh hmm."
I look back to see Sloane. She's no longer wearing her jacket and I'm able to see the entirety of her bare shoulders. Beneath her dress, she's braless. The perkiness of her nipples suddenly attracted my attention. Why am I noticing this? No, Emilie stop.
I turn away, glaring at Grace, but she just glances at me quickly, tucks her hair away and continues reading. Steph's footsteps sound behind me, getting closer and closer. "What just happened?" She asks.
But I can't give her an answer. I can't tell her because if I do if I tell her, it all becomes too real. I spin to face her, and she's closer than I expect. I'm suddenly so very nervous and the more this sink in our situation, the more I want to kill Grace.
"Mama, I want my goodnight kiss."
"Yeah, baby I'm coming," I say, but I hesitate, giving Steph one last lingering stare. She nods at me and I dive into the room.
As I go over, Grace kisses her forehead and tucks her in. She steps back and Sierra gives her a goodnight kiss and heads for the door.
Grace turns to leave too, but as she passed, I catch her by the wrist, pulling her close to me. "A word please."
She gulps, but she nods so I release her hand. I smile at my daughter, brushing her hair away from her face. "Goodnight baby,"
"Goodnight, Mama"
I press our foreheads together and peers into her sleepy eyes. "I love you,"
"I love you most."
That always makes me smile. I scrunch my face and she giggles, knowing what's coming. I give her a soft growl and she returns it with one just as soft. I kiss her forehead before I turn to leave. "Go to sleep, tiger."
Sloane is still by the door watching me and it's nerve-wracking. I slip into the hall and close the door behind me. "Where'd she go?"
She points down the hall towards our bedroom and I nod. When I look back at her, our eyes met and I want to curse everything in the universe. Like why? What'd I ever do to be this unlucky? Or is this luck? Perhaps the type of luck that constantly throws me young lemons. Cause it would be on point. Another fucking lemon I don't know what to do with. Christ!
With a deep sigh, I offer my hand to her. A moment passes as she stares at it before she takes it. Hand in hand, I lead her towards our bedroom. None of them are visible until I'm standing inside the room. I can see Sierra from her closet and Grace is in the bathroom removing her makeup. She's already changed into shorts and a T-shirt which I know she's bound to lose before morning.
I offer Steph a seat on the loveseat or on the ottoman. She made a pick for the ottoman, choosing comfortability over luxury. That's my girl.
Wait no. That's not my girl. Not my girl.... I'm going to fucking kill Grace!
Sierra finally exits the closet and climbs into bed. She watches me from where I sit on the ottoman, peering my shoes off. "What are you going to do?" She frets.
"That depends on how well she explains herself."
"At least put the spear away. Please, you know she hates it."
I chew my lip in thought. "No."
Suddenly the spear isn't beside me anymore and I look up to see it lying across her lap. "Then I'll hold on to it."
Sloane's eyes follow the path of the spear from me to Sierra, wide-eyed with her shock. "We can all do different things? Cool!"
I ignore it, my eyes finding Grace as she enters the room. Sierra takes one look at me and as I teleport, she stands before me, blocking me from the brunette. "Get out of my way," I tell her.
"No."
Teleporting again, to evade her, but she's always a few steps ahead. Literally. Her speed is a perfect counter to my teleportation, and I hate it. I really don't understand how she gets two very overpowered abilities. It's ludicrous.
"I'm just going to talk to her."
"So, talk. She can hear you."
I huff, but eventually, it just turns into more anxiety at the fact that this scares me. How can this happen? What does she mean for us? "Gracie" I beg. "Tell me how to reverse it."
"You can't. You know this."
"But I must... I must." My head starts to hurt. "You said—"
"I know what I said. I didn't know it was."
"How do you not know?" I hold out my hand and the spear is in my grasp again. With my next breath, I am before her, the blade against her neck. "I am going to kill you."
"Baby," I hear Sierra behind me. "Don't."
I ignore her. The blade presses against Grace's skin making a light graze. She whimpers, breathing hard. I can hear her heart thumping, see her tears starting to break loose. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."
"You're not going to actually kill her!" Sloane steps in. I glare at her, making her stop in her tracks. She looks mad. "If you're going to kill anyone it should be me, not her."
"Or, I can kill you both." I suggest.
"I don't have a reason," Grace finally speaks. "but I'm really sorry about everything that's going on right now. I'm sorry that you're all in a situation where your choices have been taken away from you because of me."
"No, it's not because of you!" Sloane objects. "Your sister did this. Do not take the blame for her."
"Uhm, I have one reason," Sierra speaks again, theatrically raising a hand as if she's in the classroom. "But Emilie, can you please put the spear down? Please."
But I do not at all want to put this spear down. I do not at all want to accept this. That I'm now destined to love someone that I didn't even choose or knew twelve hours ago. Whether its Grace's fault or Cyril's, I do not want to be bonded to a stranger.
My lips tremble and I feel the panic starts to set in stronger. "This is not supposed to happen, Grace." My voice breaks. "This wasn't a part of the plan."
"Is it so bad, though?" Sierra reasons. "Would it be the worst thing in the world?"
My gaze snaps to her and I shake my head, shaking a tear loose. "Sierra, you don't understand how incredibly terrifying this is. I do not know her. No offence Sloane, but I feel like I somehow walked right into a trap. We're getting married in eight weeks." My eyes bore Grace again. "Are you 100% sure this is Cyril?"
"Yes,"
"Would things be different if it wasn't for her?"
She takes a minute to answer. "I still wouldn't have let her die, but yes, I would have walked away that morning in the locker room if anything happened."
"Nothing would've have happened," Sloane assures.
"So, you still would've turned her," I asked Grace again because it surely sounded that way.
"I would've tried preventing her from ODing in the first place."
I lower my spear, sensing no lies in her answers, and release my hold on her. She takes the opportunity to get as far away as she could, taking refuge in Sierra's arms.
"Can someone please just tell me what the hell is going on here?"
The room falls silent. Grace looks at me before looking at Sierra. There is nothing I can do. Destiny has spoken. The bond is sealed. There's nothing I can do. My shoulders sag in defeat as I fall back onto the bed and stare at the ceiling.
"We bonded."
If a pin drops, you can hear it. The silence is deafening, and it drags on forever. I watch the ceiling, my eyes following the design of the vaulted structure, refusing to look at any of them. My vision blurs and clears again. Streaks of tears run down the side of my face. I'm disappointed, to say the least, but I don't even know what I'm disappointed in. I can't completely blame Grace... Oh, wait, yes, I can. If she didn't turn this woman, if her blood weren't running through her veins, this wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't connect with her like she's an extension of my wife. Now, it's just a matter of time before Sierra bonds with her, too. This is just one enormous pile of...
"What does that mean?" She finally asks.
"I already told you what it means when the bond is established."
"But clearly it can't mean that." She reasons. "This is illogical. It doesn't make sense. Suddenly, I'm supposed to be married to you, of all people?" I frown, feeling a jab of something in my chest. "No offence." She adds in consolation but it was too late. I'm already offended. "It's just that you are not my type and— Oh my gosh... I didn't consent to this!"
"Well, me neither. Get over it." I point to Grace. "Your best friend over there already did that for you eight years ago. She screwed us both, so if you want somebody to be mad at, she's right there. Knock yourself out."
"I don't understand."
I hear Grace sigh as she climbs into the bed. "To break it down, Emilie is my mate. Oriane is my mate rather. They are two separate people fused together." I push myself up on my elbow to look at her. She's just so very confused. "It's a lot, I know, but bear with me. It'll make sense soon. Probably." She takes another deep breath and uses her hands to demonstrate. "So, there's Emilie who is this super smart, inquisitive, observant scientist. She's very sensitive and anxious and she's reserved with her feelings. Then there's Oriane, which is kind of the same in a lot of ways except Oriane is an overconfident, self-righteous prick. She's reckless, extremely cocky, and she isn't afraid of anything. Oriane is my wife. Long story short she died and her spirit fused with Emilie to form.... well, this."
I glare at her but she just shrugs.
"All this just sounds like a very bad case of multiple personality disorder."
I never thought I could laugh again, but that statement pulled one from the deepest parts of me. Oh, Sloane.
"Yeah, well. Not everything is governed by science as you know it. Because Oriane is my wife whom I have a mate bond with, by default I have a mate bond with her," she points to me. "Since they're now the same person. Bring Sierra into the equation and it gets a bit more complicated. She's Emilie's soulmate as you call it on earth and when she and I met we fell in love the old-fashioned human way. Long story short, things happened, Sierra died and I turned her to save her life. So now, much like you, she has my blood running through her veins... and Emilie's blood." She remembers with a frown. "Anyways, because I'm bonded to Emilie which is the collective of Oriane and everything else inside that gorgeous body, and her blood is running through that one's veins, my mate bond is going to also recognize Sierra as my mate. And vice versa."
"Oh, so she's bonded to me because her mate bond thinks it's you?
"Bingo!"
"Wait!" Sierra interrupts. "Does that mean I'll bond with her too?"
"Yes," I tell her. "It's only a matter of time."
"Well, thank fucking God Grace tore off that other bitches head!" She spits and I have to agree. "You know what, I'm gonna go down to the basement and poke her eyes out right now."
Before I could even protest she'd sped out of the room, returned, sped into the bathroom and was back in bed with us. "You feel better now?" Grace asks with an amusing smile.
"One eye for each of my children. Yes, I do feel better!"
Sloane points to her after a minute, "Her, I can get with," Her eyes turn to me, glaring daggers. "But you... I don't like you."
"You're right. As of thirty minutes ago, you love me unconditionally. Be mad all you want, take all the time you need to wrap your head around it, you'll be weak to it sooner or later and for you, I think it'll be sooner rather than later."
Her glare challenges mines, only breaking when Sierra speaks.
"Well, fuck. What does this mean for the wedding now?"
I shrug. Grace follows. Sierra frowns. That's the last thing she wanted to hear.
"You go through with it," Sloane says and we all look at her. "This is something you all obviously want. Sierra is super excited–"
"That wouldn't be fair to you." I interrupt.
"Forget about me. I have no intention of marrying you or anyone else. It wouldn't be fair to her, any of you, to call it off because of a minor inconvenience."
She's right. This has been on and off for way too long. It's about time we get it over with. "But this isn't a minor inconvenience. This is major."
"It's okay, Love. We'll figure it out." Grace whispers against my neck as she massages my shoulders. "Come here, your anxiety is killing me."
I groan inwardly as I leaned into her but my eyes stray to the redhead. Sloane—Steph. Why are you suddenly so gorgeous? You have me wrapped around your fingers already. Less than an hour. This is insane! "She wants us to get married," I say with a chuckle. "She's adorable."
"She's my best friend. Lay off." Grace tells me, throwing my hair into my face.
Steph flushes. "I should probably go." I brush my hair back to stare at her, my racing heart suddenly falling at that statement. The room could feel my disappointment and as shocking as it was to me, i didn't care to conceal it. "This is a lot," she defends and I can feel the weight of her growing anxiety. Her uncertainty. Her inner turmoil. "...and I may or may not feel like I'm losing my mind. Plus, I don't want to be near you a second longer—"
Cracking already, Sloane? I smirk. She looks at me puzzled, nervous. She hesitates. Yup, cracking already.
"C'mere," I offer her my hand but she just stares at it as if I've used it to kill her mother. The minutes passed in painful silence, faltering breaths the only thing disturbing it. After a long moment, she slips her hand into mine, our fingers curling around each other as she allows me to pull her onto the bed. She falls onto her back next to me, her eyes locked on to me, drowning me in the same way I am her. Our close proximity makes her warm breath tickle my skin. She's aware of it and I am aware of it but I am also aware that space isn't something I want between us or have the strength bare right now. I want her. My hand inch towards her face, the need for contact overwhelming me but she recoils away before I could feel the softness of her skin. But just as quickly as she drew away, she was leaning in. Allowing me to touch her.
Her skin is as smooth as velvet, warm to the touch. "Stay. Please." I hear myself say, surprising me even more. It scares me whenever I lose control like this. Whenever the mate bond does whatever it wants. Whenever I have no say. I like having a say. I like having control and I hate rejection. My heart pounds as I wait for her answer. Grace and Sierra leave us be, whispering with each other about it but never intervening. Mostly just making silly jokes.
Sloane thinks and every second that goes by makes my anxiety worse. She's still not sold on the idea, hesitant. "Loves," I say. "I want Steph to spend the night. Can she?"
I keep her gaze as I asked and Sierra mutters a "Fine with me." And Grace excitedly tells us. "I've always wanted a slumber party."
I lift a brow at her, probing. "So?"
"Okay." She breathes.
The corners of my lips tipped up into a smile. I jump up and rush to my closet, pulling my shirt off and neatly resting it in the hamper before attacking my pants. I hear footsteps and look up to see Steph by the door. She has her arms wrapped around herself as she waits by the door. I can tell she has a question on her tongue, but the sight of me undressing proves too much for her. Still, I slip out of my pants, folded them too and stack it neatly on top of my sweater.
I glance at her over my shoulder as I search through the drawers of my clothes. "Yes, ma'am?"
"Huh?" She blinks as if snapping out of a trance. "Uh, yeah. I just... Grace said you would give me something to sleep in?"
My favourite hoodie stares back at me and I finger the familiar fabric. It's an orange, grey and navy-blue colour-block pullover with a microfleece lining. Bluer than orange but its comfort and warmth is unmatched so far. I pull it from the drawer and offered it to her. She comes over to take it but before she gets a hold of it, I pull it back. "You can't keep it. This is my favourite hoodie."
She grins and snatched it from my hand. "I'm keeping it."
"And if you keep it, I'm keeping you. I think that's a fair trade." I grab a pair of shorts and hand it to her.
Instead of taking the shorts, her fingers poke the surface of my stomach. Instinctively, all my abdominal muscles flexed. I cock a quizzical brow at her, but she doesn't seem to notice much of anything else as she stares at me in awe. Her palm firmly presses against my skin now and after a second, it glides upwards towards my ribs.
I place a hand over it, halting its movements. Her eyes find mine then and her face reddens with embarrassment. "I'm sorry... I—"
Her dress falls away from her, pooling around her feet before she could even realise that I'd reached for her zipper. Her chest is the first place my eyes go, taking in every inch of her breast and stiffened nipples. So, this is what she looks like. My gaze is slowly travelling down her body, noting the sparkle of a belly button ring staring back at me and a very toned abdomen. That's when she seems to catch up, bringing her hands up to hide. Hide that which I've already seen. "Oh, my God! You– ugh!"
I smirk and offer the shorts again. She takes it with one hand, the other still attempting to hide her breast from me. Fine, so be it. My gaze rests on her thighs, her hips, her ass. She's wearing black lace underwear that I already love and can't wait to take off.
"Is that your real eye colour or is it contacts?"
Her question catches me off guard and I had to take a few minutes to gather a response. "Uh, it's real. It's Oriane's. The hair is also hers. I'm a brunette."
"I like you blonde."
"You've never seen me brunette."
"I'm pretty sure I have." She bites back a smile. "What's your favourite colour?"
I raise a brow at her. "Is this an interview, and are you a reporter?"
She laughs nervously. "I'm nervous. Just trying to break the ice and learn a little about the woman I'm suddenly in love with."
I nod and hand over the hoodie now that she's slipped into my shorts. It's a bit loose on her, but it's okay. "Orange," I tell her.
"Who's the older out of you three?"
"I am."
"How old are you?"
"29." I pull a shirt from the drawer and drag it on.
I catch a frown as she pulls the hoodie over her head. "So, I'm the oldest. When's your birthday?"
"May 1."
She grins. "A Taurus, no wonder."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." We leave my closet and find Grace and Sierra cuddling under the duvet. The dim light from the tv shines back at them. Sierra turns her head to look at us as we came, reaching out a hand to grab my wrist. I guide Steph into the bed before I got on. Sierra's hand finds its way around my neck, pulling me close. I lean over Steph to kiss her and that did the trick. She let me go. I relax against my pillow and pull the duvet up.
It's quiet for a while, still. The tv is the only sound in the background. One of my hands snakes all the way over to Grace's side of the bed and she finds it, resting her whole hand in the nuzzle of mine. Seconds later I feel the orbit of her finger circling my palm, soothing me to a sleep-like state. My other hand finds Steph's waist to drape over it. She and Sierra are face to face and I'm surprised to find their fingers interlocking already.
"Who's the youngest?" I hear out of nowhere.
"Sierra," Grace and I say in unison.
"How old is she?"
"I'm 26. 27 on January 4th."
"Now go to bed," Grace tells her in a tired voice.
"Yeah. Good night."
A series of good nights follows in reply.
I'm almost asleep when I hear. "Who's more likely to snore?"
"Oh my God, Steph, go to sleep!" This time Grace's irritation presence's itself in her voice. I squeeze her hand in comfort and press a kiss to Steph's back before allowing my eyes to close again. This time. I'm able to fall into the darkness.