Page 92 of Fly with Me

“I’m pathetic? Do you remember how you said ‘I love you’ on like the third date but then were too scared to move in together even though we’d been dating for years?” Lindsay chuckled. “It’s a good thing I didn’t scare easily, but that woman with her sexy little bun and uniform… she’s not going to want to be tied down with you after this little excitement over the video is over. Maybe this is a good fit after all since you don’t ever know what you want in a relationship.” The problem with Lindsay was that she generally used her incredible intuitive powers for evil, but what if she was right? She was certainly right that they weren’t sleeping together.

“This is none of your business.”

“After all we’ve been through together, how can you say that?” A hurt that almost looked genuine passed across Lindsay’s face. “I put up with your moods. Those phone calls. And now you’re acting like I’m evil because I wasn’t willing to be your emotional support girlfriend every minute of the day? Is this still about you missing the half-marathon last year? Because that was your choice.”

“I know it was my choice.” Olive’s heel hit the bar behind her. “But then my brother got hurt. I was barely holding it together, and you always made me feel like garbage. Now I’m finally doing better, and you want me back?”

Lindsay halved the distance between them. Her voice went low and breathy. “I never said I was the type of person who can handle that messy stuff. It’s not what I’m good at.” She raised an eyebrow suggestively. “You know what I’m good at, Olive, and it has nothing to do with dressing up for boring-ass business events…”

Tightening her hold on her elbows, Olive turned to face the bar. She felt a soft pressure on her ass. Fury churned in her chest at the possessive nerve of that touch. Would she be kicked out of the bar if she shoved Lindsay off her and screamed everything she wanted to say to her? “Move your hand. Right now.” Olive spoke through a clenched jaw, turning to move her ass out of reach.

“Why?” Lindsay’s voice was coy and inviting, and she puffed her breasts slightly outward as she leaned back on the bar. Her eyes flickered over Olive’s shoulder before they settled on Olive again. “I’d be willing to fuck you in the bathroom. If you need a reminder of what it’s like to be in a real relationship. Wouldn’t be the first time for us in public. Do you remember at that bar in Adams Morgan—”

“Jesus Christ, what is your prob—”

Then Lindsay’s mouth was on hers. Tongue pushing against Olive’s tight mouth. Every muscle in Olive’s body went rigid. As Olive pulled away, Lindsay abruptly ended the kiss herself.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Lindsay’s voice was as poisonous as Olive had ever heard it. She wasn’t apologizing to Olive.

Olive’s head whipped around. Stella stood behind her. Derek was a few steps back, his face screwed up with anger and frustration.

So many emotions. Shock. Fear. Anger. Olive could barely keep track. Her chest heaved with stuttering breaths. “I—I—I…”

Stella, however, didn’t appear angry at all. If anything, she was amused. She offered Lindsay a glance that so plainly said Is that the best you can do? and then faced Olive.

“Hey. Sorry we couldn’t look at the dress today.” She rested a firm, comforting hand on Olive’s shoulder. “The flight still managed to get out, though. The weather wasn’t as bad as we thought it would be.”

Olive tried to speak, all of the syllables turning into incomprehensible stammering. “It wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t—”

Stella smiled at her, not even giving Lindsay a moment of attention. Those dimples were just for Olive right now. “I think I know what it looks like when my girlfriend is being kissed by someone she wants to kiss.”

Stella touched Olive’s chin lightly. She gave Olive a small questioning look. Olive answered with a tiny nod. And Stella kissed her.

All of the stress and worry melted away as the soft lips coaxed at her own. Olive’s body relaxed into Stella’s long, soft arms. Stella’s lips seemed desperate for more, opening and deepening the kiss. Her gentle hand found the place where Lindsay had touched Olive minutes before as if she were reclaiming it. God, if only she was. She pulled Olive closer so their bodies pressed against each other.

Something about knowing they had an audience was weirdly hot. Maybe it was the beer, or the taste of Stella’s tongue on her own, but she kept the kiss going.

Derek cleared his throat.

Stella kissed her cheek, before pulling away. “Hi, Derek. Nice to see you again.”

“Hello, Stella.” Derek’s eyes were wide but not unfriendly, more incredulous.

“Are you okay?” Stella said in a low voice only Olive could hear. They were still close enough for Olive to feel Stella’s hot breath on her lips as she spoke.

“I am now.” Was this real between them? It felt so goddamn real at times, it hurt.

“Buy me a beer?” Stella asked with a flirtatious wink.

Fake girlfriend. Fake girlfriend. Fake girlfriend.

“Of course.” Olive pulled Stella away toward the opposite side of the bar. As if watching a train wreck, Olive couldn’t stop herself from glancing back at Lindsay. Cold fury was etched in every line on her face, every bit of it focused on Stella. If it weren’t for the comforting touch of the woman beside her, Olive might feel worried about it.

Chapter 32

Olive was walking Stella out to wait with her for her cab at least an hour beyond the time a person in their thirties should leave bars to avoid feeling like a zombie the next morning. As they walked out, hand in hand, a high-pitched shriek shattered the cold late-night silence.

Olive twisted around searching for the emergency that necessitated the scream, and found three people jogging up from the parking lot.

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