Page 63 of Written in the Stars
Elle’s fingers, the ones that had crept under the cashmere of Darcy’s sweater, her nails raking against the sensitive skin above the waistline of Darcy’s jeans, pressed, pushing Darcy away.
Darcy stumbled backward, heart pounding. “Sorry.”
“Shut up.” Elle panted. Her fingers, those fingers that had pulled Darcy closer then pushed her away, slipped around the belt loops of Darcy’s jeans, keeping her from fleeing farther. “You’re just...ugh.” Elle’s head dropped back on her neck as she groaned, thumbs stroking the thin, sensitive skin over Darcy’s hip bones. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
The laugh bubbled up inside Darcy’s throat unbidden. “Me?I’mthe impossible one?”
“I dream about impossible things, remember?” Elle grazed a nail against the skin beneath Darcy’s navel, making Darcy shiver. Elle’s smile was somehow both wicked and sweet. “Come home with me.”
Chapter Twelve
Please don’t let Margot be awake. Please don’t let Margot be awake.
It had occurred to Elle, as they pulled into the lot behind her building, that she should’ve suggested they go back to Darcy’s. Darcy had no roommates, but Elle had blurted out the invitation and could hardly walk it back without fear of it coming across like she was walking itallback.
Which was absolutely not the case. Nowhere close, not now, when this nebulous relationship between them had finally started to take shape and become something real.
Twisting the key, Elle pushed the front door open and peered into the dark living room. All the lights were off, save the pineapple-shaped light on the breakfast bar, the one they always kept on in the evenings, no matter what.
Breathing a sigh of relief at her luck, Elle stepped farther into the apartment, waving Darcy in after her.
Darcy had been here before, but only once, and she hadn’t stepped beyond the threshold. Now, her eyes made a curioussweep around Elle’s Cracker Jack box–size living room. Every now and then she’d pause, alighting on various knickknacks scattered on surfaces, precious memories and mementos Elle and Margot had collected. Turnabout was fair play and all; Elle had definitely taken her sweet time getting acquainted with Darcy’s spartan furnishings.
Elle’s apartment was decidedly more colorful. And cluttered. A sushi-shaped pushpin holder rested precariously near the edge of the breakfast bar. Photos inside bright, Pantone-colored frames hung crooked on the walls and a cloud-shaped storm glass sat on the windowsill, small dots in the liquid foretelling foggy weather. A floor-to-ceiling tapestry of the zodiac wheel took up most of the wall beside the couch. Shoes were piled beside the breakfast bar, mostly hers, save for a pair of boots that belonged to Margot. Smack-dab in the center of the floor sat one lone sock, and Elle couldn’t remember for the life of her how or why it had ended up there.
“I’m guessing you didn’t just move in,” Darcy said, smirking over shoulder.
“Ha ha.” Elle smiled. “No. I’ve lived here... four years? Five?”
“With Margot?” Darcy asked.
Elle nodded. “With Margot.”
Darcy’s eyes darted around the space. She flicked the bobblehead astronaut on the bookshelf and arched a brow. “WhereisMargot?”
Elle jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Her room, probably.”
Her stomach somersaulted when Darcy nodded and stepped toward her, thumbs tucked inside her front pockets. Casual,graceful, Darcy’s footsteps didn’t even wobble at she put one foot in front of the other, stopping about a foot away from Elle. “And your room is...?”
Elle tugged at the lobe of her ear. “Also, down the hall. Not to be confused with the bathroom. Not that my bedroom looks like a bathroom. Just that you’d be in for a rude awakening if you somehow managed to confuse the two. Basically, everything’s down the hall. It’s small. My apartment.”
“Can I see it?” Darcy asked, hand reaching up and tucking her hair behind her ear.
Elle toyed with the rings on her Neptune earrings. “My room?”
Taking one step closer, so close there was nowhere else for Elle to go, so close their toes bumped, Darcy set her hand on Elle’s hip and nodded.
“Sure,” Elle breathed. She covered Darcy’s hand with hers, slotting their fingers together, and tugged, leading Darcy down the hall to the last door on the right. Feeling along the wall for the switch, she flipped the lights. Not the regular ones that were too bright, gross fluorescents that turned everything in the room an unflattering shade of blue and made her hair look green, but the strands of twinkling fairy lights she’d tacked up along the walls. They bathed the room in a warm, champagne glow bright enough to see, but dim enough to set a certain ambiance. Flattering as candles, but less dangerous. Mood lighting at its safest, not to mention cheapest. That, and hopefully they’d keep Darcy from spotting the mountain of laundry between Elle’s desk and dresser that she had yet to fold.
Her concern was for nothing. Darcy didn’t look around, definitely didn’t judge. She was looking straight at Elle, lids low, her lower lip captured between her teeth.
Elle gripped her sleeve, rubbing the fabric between her fingers and her palm. “So. My room.”
Darcy reached out and ran her hands up Elle’s arms, over her shoulders, until her fingers rested on either side of Elle’s neck. Beneath Darcy’s fingertips, Elle’s pulse pounded in an unmistakable display of nerves.
Not just nerves. Elle wanted her so badly her fingertips pulsed with the need to touch Darcy, skin burning with the desire to be touched in turn, but she didn’t want to mess this up.This, whatever it was they were doing that Elle didn’t know for sure, didn’t want to risk asking because what if she didn’t like the answer and—
“Hey.” Darcy’s thumb brushed along the underside of Elle’s jaw, a gentle graze that made Elle shiver. “What are you thinking?”
