Page 42 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?
Max easily did as she was shouted at, enjoying Ella’s newfound dance floor confidence. “Watch out,” she said, taking Ella’s hand and dragging her along three steps backward.
“How are you predicting all this?” Ella shrieked. “These people are so coordinated.” The group turned in unison, and Max did, too. Ella joined them two beats later, seeming pleased with herself.
“Probably because this is the fifth time we’ve repeated this section.”
Ella placed her hands on her hips and dipped them, this time perfectly. “Don’t be a know-it-all.”
They grapevined to the right. “But have you considered that I might actually know all of it?”
“No. There is no room for that in my brain.”
“Then I suppose I have to keep proving myself.”
“Oh, Counselor, you do.”
“Say it again,” she said with a wink because she liked the sound of the nickname on Ella’s lips. In fact, she liked her lips in general. She remembered how they tasted the night they’d kissed—sweet like wine and chocolate. Tonight, dancing with strangers in a darkened room, music too loud, touches more than a little free, Max couldn’t rationalize not kissing those lips again. How would they taste tonight?
“That was a much better dance,” Ella said, as they stepped off the dance floor. The part in her hair had flipped halfway through the song—correction, Ella had flipped it in a move that pulled Max’s entire focus, leaving it wild-looking and unkempt. “I’m getting good.”
“You only slammed into me seven times this go round. I didn’t even count the eighth and ninth because I’m benevolent and kind.”
Ella’s jaw dropped in offense. “Either way, that’s an improvement, Max. Give me my credit.”
“That’s what I was doing.” When she’d said it, she’d stepped into Ella’s space near the stretch of wall they’d claimed a safe distance from the rest of the world. It probably had looked like she’d moved closer to hear Ella better, but the truth was quite different. She craved proximity to the woman she felt drawn to like a magnet and took it. She must have been wearing that citrus and vanilla lotion combination that Max would always associate with this moment. The sweet scent made her want to bury her face against Ella’s neck.
Ella must have been able to tell because the amusement slid right off her face. They locked eyes and held, activating that superpower they had to erase the rest of the world. Max wasn’t even sure the music was playing anymore. Were the walls still standing around them? She didn’t care. Lost in the unravelling,she couldn’t stop if she wanted to. Her defenses had been hammered away, and she was no longer able to stop herself from leaning down and taking what she wanted, what she needed. When her lips pressed to Ella’s, the world, flat and lifeless, sparked into three-dimensional color. Ella went up on her toes, her hands moved to cradle Max’s face. It wasn’t a soft kiss in the slightest, but came with the brand of urgency that said they were making up for a lifetime of not doing exactly this. And, sweet fucking heaven, they really should have been. Max was gently pressed to the wall as she sank further into the kiss that deserved its own damn plaque. Caught between living in the moment and emblazoning every single detail of kissing Ella into her memory in case they didn’t have this opportunity again, Max went with the latter. First was the taste of vodka and something sweeter on Ella’s lips. The soft, uneven hitch in her breath when Max traced the shape of her mouth with her tongue. The way Ella's hands, tentative at first, slid to Max’s waist, fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt like she was afraid to let go. And the way Ella kissed her, like she was both terrified and desperate. She knew they were stealing something that wasn’t theirs to keep, but couldn’t help taking it anyway.
When Ella finally pulled back, the absence was immediate, sharp. Max kept her eyes closed a second longer, holding onto the ghost of Ella’s lips, the press of her body, the impossible heat between them. Because if this was the only time, she needed to remembereverything.
“Uh-oh,” Ella whispered, her eyes still on Max’s mouth.
“We weren’t supposed to do that,” Max said. “Now what?” She’d done this. She’d taken the liberty, initiated that kiss, and crossed them over the line of?—
Ella’s mouth caught hers again in a lip-lock that said none of this was in the past tense. If they’d crossed a line, they were apparently living on this side of it for now. As her mouth movedperfectly with Ella’s, the rest of her body lit up with the desire she’d shoved to the side for far too long, now demanding to be recognized.
“This is too good,” she murmured against Ella’s mouth, angling and going in for more. The problem was her hands. They wanted to slip under the hem of Ella’s blouse, touch her heated skin, run down her body, slide through her hair. Yet, they were in a public place, which meant combustion was not an option. And if left unchecked, that’s exactly what they would do.
“So much better than dancing,” Ella murmured back. She stole another kiss, the kind where their lips clung for an extra moment, reveling in connection. “And I tried so hard not to do this. But there’s only so much a person is capable of. Also, I’m largely innocent. This is your fault.” Another kiss. This one quick.
“All mine? How come?” Max asked, after pulling back and taking a breath.
“Looking like this. Talking like that. Quirking sideways smiles.”
Max arched a brow. “I wasn’t expecting a whole list.”
“There’s a dissertation.”
She blinked and let the meaning settle. Ella thought about her a lot. The deeply satisfying understanding settled and spread out. “What do we do now?” Max asked because the world felt different; they did.
“I have no idea.” They stared at each other with the firm understanding that this was going to be too hard to put back in the box. The box would surely catch on fire if they tried. “Can we just figure it out as we go?”
That wasn’t easy to answer for someone like Max, who dealt in logic, plans, and strategies on a daily basis. Shooting from the hip was not her strong suit. She had backup plans for her backupplans, and many of them were organized in spreadsheet form. “Figure it out,” she repeated. “Sure. We could try that.”
They eyed each other, and Max felt the intense pull. What she wanted more than anything was to step right back into Ella’s arms and pick up where they’d left off. She wanted to explore Ella’s body, trace her curves, and make her call out in pleasure beneath Max’s touch.
“Maybe we should find the others,” Ella said, the look on her face mirroring Max’s warring desires. At least now she knew unequivocally that they were on the same ridiculously turned-on page. Commiseration helped. “I’m still shaking,” she confessed.
And then Max saw the slight tremor, struck and more than a little honored to know that she’d been the cause. “I’m all over the place, too.”
