Page 44 of Swiping Right (and other disasters)

There was a pause. Kiera found herself stuck, not knowing what to say. She tried to formulate an articulate response, but her brain didn’t seem able to come up with one. What she did know for certain was that Seymour had told her she wanted to kiss her. She really did. And all Kiera could think about now was how long the pause was that had opened up between them, and how awkward this was all becoming. Her hand was still, after all, on Seymour’s thigh. Seymour started to look away.

“No, you haven’t misjudged, honestly. I’m just surprised or shocked or not sure what to do. And now I’m waffling.” Kiera tore her now very sticky hand from Seymour’s thigh and reached for her co-pilot’s hand to reassure her. She felt Seymour squeeze her hand back.

Seymour looked back at her, her face redder than even Kiera’s was.

“What I mean,” continued Kiera, “is if you want to kiss me, I think we should…” she trailed off, and gently, her lips met Seymour’s.

Kiera moved her thigh so it was touching Seymour’s and brought her non-sticky hand to Seymour’s face. Swan boat and ice-cream notwithstanding, it was the best kiss Kiera had had in a very long time. Seymour tasted of chocolate and vanilla and smelled of a subtle floral scent mixed with fabric softener. Kiera pulled away and breathed her in.

“Wow,” said Seymour. “You’re good at that.” She leaned in again, and this time they were both a bit more confident, and Kiera could feel a buzz of desire beginning to collect in her stomach.

Their kiss deepened just as a small voice shouted, “Daddy, look, those two girls in the boat we hit are kissing each other!”

Kiera and Seymour pulled apart and laughed.

“Well, this isn’t quite what I had planned,” said Seymour, with a smile. “I think we need to paddle to the shore before we get into any more trouble.” Kiera laughed, in spite of the ice cream that was now soaking through her trousers.

“Agreed.”

They traded in their boat and embarked on a walk through the wooded area at the side of the park. It was quieter here, and they naturally fell into silence, side by side. Their shoulders brushed a few times before Kiera tentatively reached out for Seymour’s hand. It felt strangely intimate to be strolling hand in hand in this way. They found themselves walking along the River Rea, butterflies dancing in and out of the wild areas on the banks of the river.

“It’s always good to be reminded that however urban Birmingham is, you don’t have to go very far to get away from the concrete and the noise,” said Kiera. “Look, there’s a damsel fly.”

“Oh yes. So, what’s the difference between a dragon fly and a damsel fly?”

“Well,” said Kiera, “they’re very similar, obviously, and part of the same general group of insects. But damsel flies tend to be smaller and slimmer.”

“Well, there you go. I didn’t realise you were such a naturalist.” Seymour squeezed Kiera’s hand.

“I’d love to tell you that I am a deeply-researched biologist, but really I’ve just watched a lot of Attenborough programmes.” Kiera kicked at a stone on the rough path. “They’re so soothing.”

They made their way slowly back towards Kings Heath and their respective homes, without consultation. They reached Seymour’s flat first and paused outside the café below. “For the record,” said Kiera, “you haven’t misjudged anything. I wanted to kiss you too, but I didn’t think you wanted to. I just assumed you’d have far better offers.”

“Nonsense,” said Seymour. “You deserve so much more than you think you do. And I’d like to confirm to you that you are by far the best ‘offer’,” she used her fingers as quotation marks, “I’ve had in quite some time.”

Kiera grinned. “But you kept helping me with my dates.”

“Well, what else could I do? I didn’t want you meeting some wrongun’ without backup. I just felt like you might appreciate it.”

“I did. I do.” Kiera angled her face upwards towards Seymour’s and they kissed again. It was warm. It was happy.

“Do you want to come in for a cup of tea? I mean to the flat, not the café.”

Once settled in Seymour’s living room, they sat at either end of a cosy grey sofa. “Anyway,” said Seymour, “you’d gone all ‘I don’t need anyone’.”

“Yeah,” said Kiera, “as a wise person said to me recently, that doesn’t mean I don’t want someone, though. I just realised that the searching was exhausting and fruitless and making me feel bad. And, well. There you were.”

“All along,” said Seymour.

“Really?”

“Really. You don’t think I hadn’t clocked your gorgeous face and beautiful arms and hands the first time you walked in? I made a special effort to learn your coffee order and always be extra friendly.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Kiera, casting her mind back to the months and months where she would just stroll into the café, nod quietly at Seymour, make her order and then sit down with a book or the newspaper.

“Well, it’s true, Kiera. I hoped that if I was patient enough, you might see me. Like, really see me.”

Kiera laughed, mostly at herself. “And all that time I was bringing a trail of unsuitable women through the doors. You should have said.”

---