Olive smiled as she chewed the bite of perfectly seasoned breakfast. “Not surprised Hector’s a punny guy, and wow, these eggs are great.”
“Now, if you had had mushrooms in the fridge it would have been even better.”
“Mushrooms are disgusting.” Olive pulled a face.
“You didn’t list mushrooms on question thirty-two.”
“There wasn’t enough room on the paper to list all of the foods that are hard passes for me. I stuck to the most relevant ones.”
“Caviar and escargot were relevant? I feel like you’re going to be really disappointed with the food at the Pilots’ Gala.”
“They were just the grossest things I could think of at the time. Are you deducting points from my test score since I didn’t give comprehensive answers? I don’t want to get a B.” Olive affected a grimace. “In case you’re springing that pop quiz on me, I remember all of your answers on thirty-two. Hating pineapple on pizza though? Such a cliché.”
“Very good. You definitely get an A.” Stella’s smile was wicked again. “So… hot lady body, huh?”
“Like you don’t know.” Olive was much shorter than Stella. She smiled, raising her chin, and placed either hand on the counter, playfully trapping Stella between her arms. Stella kissed her once and twisted out of Olive’s arms. Olive sat on the counter with her eggs and mug beside her and enjoyed the view of Stella bending over to pick up a couple of stray pieces of green pepper.
Olive grinned. “You know I think you’re hot.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear you say it.”
The voice. That bedroom voice that turned Olive’s purple cotton underwear into a puddle. It was back again.
Olive grabbed Stella’s hands and pulled her closer. “You’re hot. And sexy. And gorgeous.”
Stella gave tiny flirtatious nods after each compliment.
“We never actually finished that conversation about whether friends can kiss.” Olive drew closer to Stella, letting her breath flutter against the delicate hairs escaping Stella’s ponytail.
“I think they can kiss.” Stella was breathless as she spoke. “If that’s okay with you. You were sick before, so it didn’t seem like the time…”
“I like kissing you.” Understatement. Olive leaned in but then pulled her lips away from Stella’s at the last moment in favor of trailing down her jawline to her neck.
“Same.”
“That last make-out session earned top grades.” She kissed the notch of Stella’s collarbone. Then her chin. “A plus for technique.”
Stella pulled Olive’s mouth to hers, practically knocking Olive over with the force of the kiss. Olive’s hands moved from the countertop, to grip Stella’s soft hips. One slid upward, teasing at the bottom of Stella’s sweatshirt until a tiny nod encouraged it to keep moving.
Olive traced the curve of Stella’s ribs as she pulled away from the kiss. Her finger followed along Stella’s ribs to the soft skin between sternum and navel. She closed her eyes, listening for the answer. “So… can friends do more than kiss?”
“Yes.”
Oh shit. Okay.
Olive’s finger hooked beneath the hem of Stella’s pants, pulling their bodies flush together once more. Her hand shifted around to cup Stella’s ass. A soft urgent sound left Stella and she braced a hand against the counter, causing her coffee mug to shudder and spill a splash over the granite.
Stella’s eyes darted as if she wanted to grab a rag.
Olive grabbed her hips. “Leave it, please.”
“But…”
“Please.” Olive’s words were soft. They hummed against Stella’s mouth. There was a question there. Stella gave a tiny nod.
Olive’s legs straddled Stella’s waist, her inner thighs feeling the curve of Stella’s hip bones. Stella reached for Olive’s pants, the tips of her fingers slipping beneath the waistband farther this time.
Their eyes met. The fire in Stella’s reflecting the heat that was certainly in Olive’s own.