Page 76 of Every Step She Takes
We’re completely sober, and it is broad daylight, and Sadie isn’t Play-Doh at all. She’s the one sculpting me with her hands, moving me where she wants me, touching me and turning me into goo.
She bites my lip, so I bite her back, pushing her against the wall until she lets out a little yelp of pain, then laughs into my mouth. “Sorry.” She says the word against my lips, and I start laughing too. “Sharp stone.”
I maneuver her away from the wall, and the sober, broad daylight of it all comes crashing down on me. I clear my throat to ensure my next words don’t come out in that same horny growl. “You… um, you’re getting good at that. Very quick learner.”
She starts nodding, and then I’m nodding too. We keep nodding at each other and not touching, and I feel like I might combust. “Yes, well, I have a good teacher,” she stammers.
I’m shaking with desperation, with a feralneed.“You know what they say about scientific experiments…”
“Of course. You replicate the experiment to see if you get the same findings.”
And shit. We’re back to equivocating, back to pretending these are practice kisses, when the last thing Sadie needs ispractice. She already knows how to kiss me in a way that makes mewant all of her, in a way that makes me feel like no amount will ever be enough. And I want to tell her that.
Ineedto tell her that none of it has been practice. But what if they are only practice to Sadie?
“Mallory! Samantha!” a voice shouts, and I take another step away from Sadie before Stefano rounds the corner of our little alleyway. “There you are! They sent me to find you! What are you doing here?”
Stefano smiles at us in a way that makes it painfully obvious that he knowsexactlywhat we’re doing here. He glances down at our feet. “Oh no! You spilled your disgusting gelato!” Then, he goes so far as to wink at us. “We will tell the others you had a little mess to take care of.”
A little mess, indeed.
EIGHTEENA GUARDA, SPAINMonday, May 19, 2025
Mal
“Practice kisses?”
“I can explain.”
“I’d like to hear you try,” Michelle says dryly into the phone. I watch my clothes tumble round and round through the transparent dryer door.
“Well, you see, she’s insecure about coming out at thirty-five and feels like she’s behind because she missed out on—”
“Wait. Stop. I take it back. I don’t want to hear you try to explain why you couldn’t make it a week without kissing this woman.”
“The kisses are for science?” I try. “You love science.”
Michelle is not amused. In the background, I hear her fingers clacking against her keyboard with sharp jabs of annoyance. “What happened to focusing on yourself on this trip? Have you decided what to do about Quinta Costa yet? Have you spent any time at all reflecting on your future?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I haven’t.”
I flop back on one of the laundromat’s plastic chairs and sigh. The Lavanderia Momblanco is empty at eight in the morning, and the tumbling of clothes in the dryer isn’t enough to keep the silence at bay. Today is our longest day yet—19 miles to Baiona— and I should have slept in. Everyone else is back at thehostel enjoying a leisurely breakfast, but I woke up early feeling restless. I hiked up to the Castelo de Santa Cruz to watch the sunrise, but even the beautiful views of the ocean couldn’t get the strawberry-pistachio taste out of my mouth.
When I got back to our hotel room, Sadie was asleep on top of the covers, snoring into her pillow. It felt too dangerous to stay in that room with her. So, I gathered up my dirty clothes and waited outside the Lavanderia until it opened.
Then I called Michelle when I knew she’d be awake feeding Cedar or working on her research. From what I can tell, she’s currently doing both.
“I’m worried about you, Maëlys,” she says now, pulling out my full name to emphasize her motherly disappointment.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I insist for the dozenth time. But I’ve been up since four thirty and have consumed three espressos already, so I’m not sure this is true. “Sadie doesn’t have feelings for me at all. Whatever this is, I’m not at risk of Romeo antics, because it can’t go anywhere.”
“Uh-huh. So you’re telling me you haven’t done anything stupid for this woman?”
I can practically feel the tattoo healing through the fabric of my fleece. “Nope. Not a thing.”
“You’re not pretending to like things she likes, or putting her needs above your own?”
I clear my throat. “As we both know, I have alwayslovedwatchingProperty Brothers.”
