Page 60 of Sparks Like Ours

Elle smiled. “Green surfboard on the wall.”

Gia nodded. “One of my favorites from years ago. Couldn’t bear totoss it when it busted.” She was acutely aware that there was no other art,other than the surfing posters on her bedroom wall that now seemed juvenile andobnoxious. Elle didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s very you. Lots of bright colors.”

Gia glanced around. “That don’t exactly match.” Her blue couch andred-cushioned dining chairs now seemed cringe-worthy. She really should havelet Hadley go to town when it came to decorating.

“They match you,” Elle said, meaning it as a compliment.

Gia nodded. “Can I get you a soda or something to eat?” Sheremembered that her fridge was mostly empty and hoped Elle would pass on thatsnack. Note to self: Buy groceries for guests. Always. Have. Groceries.

“I’m good. Go. Take your shower. I’ll wander around your bedroomand snoop.”

“Oh, that can’t yield much good, but knock yourself out. I’mboring as hell.” But she did a quick mental check anyway, realizing that therewas nothing too incriminating lying around. She should be good.

She left Elle on her own and, moments later, stood under the hotwater in utter surrender as the heat worked her aching muscles. She closed hereyes and dropped her head back, letting the pressure of the water massage herscalp, reaching blindly for the shampoo when Elle’s voice from her bedroominterrupted.

“Are you singing in there?”

She straightened, horrified. She had been singing, hadn’t she? Itwas her ritual, and so second nature, she hadn’t even realized she was doingit—with company present no less. Not even company,Elle. “Oh, sorry!” she called back.

A chuckle. “Don’t stop on my account.”

But of course she would, and how long had she been going beforeElle said anything? Didn’t matter. Her singing was atrocious, which was why sheonly ever sang when alone in the shower, and now her singing was out there inthe world, and someone she was interested in, and whose opinion mattered toher, hadheard.She sighed, finished up, and stepped out of the shower, closing her eyes at abrand-new revelation. She’d left her clothes in her bedroom. That’s right. Whenyou lived alone and rarely had company, there was no reason not to walk nakedfrom the bathroom to the bedroom and dress there. It was official, she was abonehead. A very naked bonehead, with a newly minted lesbian (perhaps not readyfor naked parades) on the other side of the door from her. Only one choice. Giawrapped herself in a towel and casually walked to the bedroom, where she wouldquickly find appropriate attire and return to the bathroom to dress. That couldwork. With a solid plan in mind, she went for it.

As Gia entered the bedroom, Elle turned, mouth open, ready tospeak. When she saw Gia clad in only a towel, however, the words died on herlips and she went still. “Oh,” she said instead. She looked away to be polite,but only briefly. When her gaze returned to Gia, it moved unabashedly acrossevery inch of exposed skin, sending a powerful shiver right through Gia. She wasbeing objectified, and in this case, she didn’t mind at all.

“Sorry. I just need clothes.”

“Don’t go out of your way on my account,” Elle said, with a smallsmile, half joking, half not.

“You can’t flirt with me right now.”

“Yes, I can,” Elle said boldly, tucking a strand of hair behindher ear. She had always been a go-getter, and apparently, that traittransferred to her personal life. Gia liked that about her. No game playing. Noreading between the lines. With Elle, what you saw was what you got. Still, Giawasn’t ready to drop the towel just yet. Wasn’t how she imagined thatparticular moment, and she did imagine it. A lot.

“Be right back,” she said, dashing into the bathroom and throwingon her clothes.

Elle looked thoughtful when she returned. “That was BritneySpears, wasn’t it? You were singing Britney Spears in your shower for me.”

Gia held up a finger as she walked to the living room, Elle hot onher heels. “Technically, it wasn’t for you. Britney and I go back years. And Iwouldn’t subject anyone to my singing.”

“It’s unique.”

“C’mon, it’s awful.”

“I wasn’t going to use that word. I prefer endearing with artisticlicense.”

Gia winced. “You’re kind.”

“All my mother’s work. You would like her.”

“Would she like me?” The question had more to do with Elle’srecent outing to her parents (and everyone else) than it did about Gia and hermother actually meeting.

“I think she would. She’s going to need time to adjust to the ideaof…a woman. Don’t think she saw that one coming, but hey, neither did I. She’san open-minded person, though, and she loves her kids a lot.”

“She sounds like good people.” She pulled a bottle of water fromthe fridge and tossed one to Elle. “Are you doing okay?”

Elle nodded. “Um, surprisingly, yes. Did I hyperventilate in myhotel room when I realized what I’d done without even realizing it? I did. Thathappened. Would I take it back?” A small pause. “Uh-uh.”

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