Page 51 of High Note

“We do. And I don’t want to be too scared to try to go for it.” Skyla poked her gently.

“So, no more I just picked you up at a pizza place.”

“Fair enough.” Okay. Okay, fuck. Kirsten let those tingles zip through her body, little electric fairies that played her nerves. Then she leaned in to take a kiss.

Skyla tasted like home, like bravery.

“How about I seduced you with my version of ‘I Can’t Make You Love Me’?”

“Oh, baby.” Skyla pushed her over, straddling her, hands framing her face. “That melted my butter.”

Chapter Fifteen

Skyla was in a weird sort of heaven.

This little apartment was full of music and light, animals and color. Kirsten took a few days off at the restaurant so they could hang together. She didn’t have to put on makeup or a bra. There were hours of jamming, of writing, but then there were also hours and hours of watching true crime shows.

Doing the New York Times crossword puzzle on their phones.

She found out that Kirsten was a reader. Weird little stacks of books were stashed around the house—mostly suspense, but every so often she’d find a romance novel tucked in with the rest. God, didn’t that make her smile.

Hell, she even made chili.

They did laundry together.

They made love for hours, just luxuriating in each other. Kirsten could do things to her that helped her believe in god.

She hadn’t been answering her phone calls. She texted the band, of course. She told them she was fine, that she was taking a mental health week. That they’d get paid for it. Brenda was the one who replied with, “You go girl.”

Yeah, this was truly magical.

“You do realize I’m going to have to get up soon?” Kirsten stretched on the sofa, head on her lap. She wiggled her socked feet, which immediately found a cat attacking them and nibbling at her toes, holding on. “Ow! Kitty!”

Skyla did not laugh. Nope. “Where do we have to go?”

“I have a gig at the pizza parlor. Cherry can always get another waitress. To get another picker? Not so much.” Kirsten’s head tilted, and she fastened Skyla with a wicked grin. “Wanna come play with me?”

“You don’t think I’d steal your thunder.” She didn’t want to fuck this up.

Kirsten snorted, then she grinned. “I know you’re gonna steal my thunder. I mean, there is absolutely no question of that.” Then Skyla got this warm smile that went right to her cunt and made her toes curl. “I don’t mind. I’ll pick, we can sing. I’ll sing harmony. I don’t care at all. I just think it’s a wild idea—you and me together alone on a little stage. I mean there’s no bad there.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Skyla kind of loved it. She loved being on stage. She loved singing more than just about anything, and what could it hurt? It wasn’t as if Kirsten had a huge audience.

Hell, most of these women were Kirsten’s friends. She’d sung with a lot of them.

“Okay. That sounds like fun. I’m in. What are we gonna wear?”

“Well…” Kirsten rolled her eyes. So butch, her girl. “I’m going to be daring and wear jeans and a tank top with a flannel shirt over the top.”

“Ah, so your dress clothes,” she teased.

“Absolutely. In fact, if you’re really lucky, I’ll put the diamond stud in my nose.”

“So long as you keep the stud in your tongue, I don’t care.” She was sort of in love with that—like in a deep personal-personalway.

Kirsten laughed and stuck out her tongue, wiggled her piercing. “You like that, do you?”

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