Page 53 of The Unfinished Line

Dillon didn’t say anything. Her thoughts were split in two directions—one route hanging on the way Kam chewed her lower lip when she got nervous—the second path drifting over her shoulder to the black expanse of nothingness between where they stood and Alcatraz Island.

Three races in one month.

No problem.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“Because I’m onto you, Kam-Kameryn,” Dillon teased, pushing aside thoughts of June for the moment. “I see what you’re about. You think flattery is going to talk me out of Isle of Mull cheddar in the morning.” She reached up, tugging down thezipper below Kam’s chin. “I’m sorry, but it’s not going to work. You’re not getting out of Christmas brunch.”

Laughing at the turn in conversation, Kameryn slid her hands deeper into Dillon’s pockets, drawing herself closer, until there was no space between them. “Then I’ll take that as a challenge,” she said, the warmth of her lips falling just shy of Dillon’s. “I think it’s time to convince you there are far better ways we could spend our Christmas morning.”

Scene 19

I fumbled with the door handle, the locking mechanism flashing red. No matter how many times I crammed the keycard into the slot, my brain turned the task of opening the hotel door into the Pythagorean Equation.

“It’s not working!”

Dillon reached around me, easing the card from my shaking hand, and calmly turned it over, slipping it back into the keycard reader where the light immediately turned green.

Smooth, Kam. Note to self: things work better when you line up the arrows.

We’d booked a room at the first hotel we came to off the Embarcadero. Dillon had suggested going back for the car, uncertain if the structure permitted overnight parking, but I’d pulled her off the sidewalk, straight into the lobby.

I’d worry about the car in the morning.

The hotel was above my pay grade. A boy with metallic blue hair combed into a fauxhawk had lazily sprawled behind the front desk, listing off amenities: Top floor. Waterfront view. Balcony. Breakfast included. Complimentary high-speed wifi.

Yeah, fine, whatever. Get on with it.

One bed or two?

One.

I hadn’t even had the presence of mind to be embarrassed.The limited space in my brain had been reserved for the taste of Dillon’s mouth, the way she’d just kissed me down at the docks, and the knowledge that we were really doing this. Without looking at the room rate, I slid my credit card across the desk—thank you,Amex, for your liberal definition of my credit limit—and proceeded to trip over thewelcomemat in my rush to the elevator.

But now that we were here, behind closed doors, my precipitancy had abruptly ended.

I wasn’t sure what to do.

I don’t know why I felt there should have been a manual.How To Sleep With A Woman When You’re A Woman—a First Timer’s Guide To Success. Had Ellen penned a handbook? Chappell Roan a song? Maybe Megan Rapinoe had posted a podcast?

I felt like such an idiot. Sex was sex, right? I hadn’t needed instructions for Carter. Ryan. Diego. Matt. That one guy from Theatre 101B—whatever his name had been. And whoever the last one was I couldn’t place at the moment. I don’t know why I allowed myself to feel like this was different. Was it just the mental barrier—the drummed-in propensity to regard it as taboo?

I crammed the thought away. That was bullshit. The only thing that should have been tabooed were the obnoxious blue and pink robes hanging on the closet door, labeledCaptainandThe Missus.

Still, I stood there, frozen to the floorboards of the entryway as she relieved me of her jacket, flipped on the bathroom light, and drew the sheer curtain across the waterfront balcony window. When she returned, I tried to convince my arms to do anything other than hang useless at my sides, but they didn’t get the memo.

“I, uh—I don’t know what to do.”

Her smile turned amused and I wanted to cover my head with the empty ice bucket from the counter.

Well done, Kam:Master of the obvious.

“It’s alright. I happen to be something of an expert.”

I laughed, swung back to some sense of composure by her unfailing bold-faced certainty, and applauded myself for not flinching when she reached to unclasp my opal earrings.

“Of course you are.”

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