At Your Most Beautiful
Page 2
“About five years ago.” Quinn couldn’t detect any bitterness in Maya’s tone.
“Was it a mutual decision?”
“Sure.” Maya’s voice was flat as could be.
Quinn chuckled in response. “Okay. You don’t want to talk about it. That’s fine.”
“What are we doing talking about our exes on such a lovely summer day, anyway?” Maya took another sip. “Over such a delicious cocktail.”
“You’re right.” Quinn relaxed in her seat. “To hell with them.” She couldn’t help but wonder what Rachel was up to now. Before she had started rustling around in the bushes, hustling for a swim, she’d been scrolling through Rachel’s Facebook profile, an unfulfilling habit she’d developed since arriving home. Unperturbed by her age, Rachel would be out clubbing tonight. It was a given. Quinn made a mental note to avoid Rachel’s social media tomorrow—as if she’d even remember when the time came.
“What’s it like living in the city?” Maya asked.
“Expensive,” Quinn said, because, apart from Rachel, money had been preoccupying her the most.
“I bet.”
“But fun. I love the energy. The possibility. As if anything can happen with every corner you turn.”
“You’re not too bored spending time in good old Milbury?” Maya grabbed her cocktail and held it just above her chest. A drop of condensation fell onto the swell of her breast. This time, Quinn couldn’t look away.
“It’s good to take a breather once in a while.” Quinn took another sip to lubricate the dryness in her throat more than anything.
“Gosh, to be twenty-four again,” Maya mused, apparently impervious to Quinn’s locked gaze on her chest.
“Weren’t you a hot-shot dancer in your twenties?”
“Oh, yes. And I loved every second of it.” Maya’s voice grew more powerful, as though the memory stirred something in her. “Despite all the hours of training, all the sacrifice… to go out on the dance floor was always just pure ecstasy.”
“Do you still dance?” Because that had also been the thing about Rachel, and the thought of her out in the clubs tonight, being watched by a myriad of other women stirred jealousy within Quinn. Rachel always had the smoothest moves, the coolest sway to her hips. She might be the oldest, but that never stopped her from being the hippest person in any joint she entered—baby dyke parties included. Quinn had loved to watch Rachel dance.
“Of course. I will only stop when I lose the use of my legs.”
“Did you teach Tommy how to dance?” Quinn’s gaze had traveled back up to Maya’s face. The late afternoon light caught in her eyes, making them glitter.
“Of course. He might end up an accountant like his father, but at least he’ll be an accountant who knows how to waltz.”
“I’d love to see you dance,” Quinn blurted out. It was true. Even when she simply reached for her cocktail, there was such elegance to the stretch of Maya’s arm. But it might not be the best thing to say to her neighbor with whom she was having a chill and lovely time.
“Come to the studio some time. I’ll teach you some moves.”
Quinn hadn’t expected that. “All right. I’ll be there.”
Over the rim of her glass, Maya eyed her. “What did you put in this, anyway?”
“Grapefruit juice, soda water, and some syrup. And a healthy dose of tequila, of course.”
“It tastes deceptively light, but I can definitely feel it after only a few sips.” Maya put her cocktail down, as though to make a statement.
“It’s how we make them in New York City.” Quinn couldn’t stop a grin from spreading on her lips.
“So… why do you prefer being with older women? What’s wrong with girls your age? I know it’s none of my business, but blame this.” She pointed at the contents of her glass.
Quinn chuckled. “I don’t know. Maybe I have mommy issues, but I don’t have the money to pay for therapy to find out.”
Maya’s eyes widened a fraction. “Before Rach, did you also date older women?”
“Before Rach, I didn’t really have a clue about anything. I dated but… I don’t know. It was different. It all seems so meaningless now.”
“Are you okay, Quinn?” The sudden worry in Maya’s tone made Quinn feel even hotter. “Did she hurt you really badly?” Maya canted her body toward her.
Quinn huffed out some air. “The situation wasn’t ideal, but neither was breaking up. I guess these things always hurt. Although, according to Mom, it’s all for the best and, in the long run, I’ll be all the happier for it.”
“And according to yourself?”
“I’ll be fine. I just need some time.” Quinn had always much preferred some light flirting to baring her soul.
“What is it that you’d like to do with your life? What’s your passion?”
“Photography,” Quinn said on a sigh. “In between bartending at night and waitressing during the day, I took a photography course. Guess who my teacher was?”
Maya shot her a warm smile. “Does their name start with an R?”
Quinn nodded. “As a result, when I’m lining up a shot, I still hear Rachel’s voice in my head. I’m waiting for the day when I no longer associate taking pictures with being with her. That’s what makes it so damn annoying. It’s like the two are inextricably linked or something.”
“Look at it this way, though. It’s good that you have a passion. So many people never find the one thing they can’t live without. Like I will never be without dance. I hope you will never be without a camera.” Maya reached for her cocktail and took a sip. “In a few months, you’ll be back at it, and you won’t give Rachel a second thought.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you know how many dance partners I’ve had in my life?”
Quinn shook her head.
“Neither do I, that’s how many. I’ve lost count. Save a few, people will come and go in your life. But what’s in here.” She put a hand on her stomach. “The thing you love, that will stay with you forever and guide you through the ups and downs of your life.”
“Wow. I wasn’t expecting a swim and life lessons today.” Quinn’s gaze was drawn to where Maya’s hand rested on her stomach. She wore a see-through cotton dress over her swimsuit and seeing her hand pressed against her belly did something funny to Quinn’s own stomach.
“Well, there you go. Sometimes life hands you something utterly unexpected. All you have to do is enjoy it.”
“I will.” Quinn figured that Maya most likely had no idea what life was offering her right now. “I am enjoying it.” Quinn watched how Maya moved her hand from her belly to her hair, which she brushed away from her face with such gracefulness, it made Quinn a little more audacious. “I do have a more specific answer to your earlier question.”
Maya responded with a slight lift of her eyebrows.
“Women in their forties and fifties, to me, are at their most beautiful.” She tried to lock her gaze on Maya’s. It was only hard for a fraction of a second. She needed eye contact for what she was going to say next. “Like you are, tonight.”
The slightest puff of air emanated from Maya’s lips, as though she was a touch perplexed but didn’t want to show it. “I was going to ask you whether Rach had seduced you, but I think I know the answer to that question already.”
“She was my teacher. Making the first move wasn’t really an option for her, although she had little trouble with the second move.” Quinn knew she sounded a touch conceited, but it was all part of the game. And wasn’t that what this had turned into now? A flirting game with her neighbor? Quinn didn’t have anything to lose. Maya hadn’t chased her from her garden just yet.
Maya chuckled. “How did you go about it?” She reached for her cocktail again. Before knocking back the last of it, she peered deep into Quinn’s eyes.
“Lingering after class. Asking some photography questions, followed by some non-photography questions. Inviting her for a drink with the group, then without the group. Things like that.”
>
Maya nodded slowly, but didn’t say anything. With a soft thud, she deposited her empty glass on the table.
“Can I fix you another?” Quinn asked.
“I think I’ve had enough.” Maya looked as though she was thinking very deeply about what to say next. “But thank you.”
“My absolute pleasure.”
Maya blinked slowly, then gave the slightest shake of the head. “I’m going to get started on dinner. Feel free to have another swim before you go.”
Before you go? Ouch. But what had Quinn expected? A dinner invitation? “Thank you for having me over, Maya. It was really lovely to get to know you all over again.”
“It’s been enlightening to say the least.” Maya pushed her chair back. “See you around.”
“I sure hope so.”
Maya collected the glasses from the table and, without looking back, headed inside the house.
Quinn stared at the open door. There was always tomorrow. It was only Friday. Her parents wouldn’t be back until late on Sunday. Quinn had all weekend for another dip in Maya’s pool.
Chapter 3
Maya hadn’t slept well. But she had nothing to do today except hope for a call from Tommy. She’d be happy with a brief text, just so she knew he was doing okay and getting along with Heidi and her teenage daughter.
Because there were no students around to teach during the height of summer, her dance studio was closed until the middle of August. Thinking about dance made her muscles tense up. A restlessness had taken hold of her flesh. She wanted to move her body. She wanted a strong partner who knew what he was doing to take her for a satisfying spin around the floor.
As she took a cup of tea into the garden, Maya admitted to herself that the reason she hadn’t slept well was Quinn Hathaway. Her boldness had shaken her. She had flirted with Maya and there had been nothing covert about it. Unsure how to respond, Maya had left the scene of the flirting. She had fled inside her own house. Quinn hadn’t taken her up on her invitation to use the pool again but Maya hadn’t been able to draw a proper breath until she had heard Quinn rustle back through the bushes—apparently taking the driveway wasn’t an option—and leave her property.
Maya couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at her the way Quinn had done last night. So brazen. So self-assured. Where did a girl—a girl who had very recently had her heart trampled on, for that matter—get such confidence to unashamedly flirt with a woman twenty years her senior? It was uncanny. Almost arrogant and perhaps a touch sordid. Whatever Quinn was implying was unthinkable. And yet, Maya had thought about it. As she lay sweating under her bedroom ceiling fan, she had given in to the thought. Briefly, but not without consequence.
What if Maya let Quinn seduce her, as she had seduced her photography teacher? Part of the thought was thrilling enough to allow another to follow. A snapshot of Quinn kissing her. The image of Quinn eyeing her, her gaze so hot, Maya would open her lips to her instantly and automatically. That was as far as Maya had allowed her thoughts to drift. She had to shut them down, even though they were, in the end, only thoughts. But still. They were wicked thoughts.
Maya had never really imagined kissing or felt any kind of sexual attraction to a woman before. But somehow, the fact that Quinn was a woman was not fazing her in any way. She’d been mesmerized by Quinn’s forwardness. By what she’d said about Maya being at her most beautiful. That’s what had struck her most of all. Because Maya had believed for years now that her most beautiful years were long behind her. The years when she was the belle of the ball no matter where she danced. The years when she trained more hours than any other dancer she knew because of the rewards that lay on the other side of the pain and the sacrifice. The years before Drew and Tommy that, sometimes, felt like another life.
Maya stared at the pool. She didn’t have to close her eyes to imagine Quinn sitting on the edge again, fat drops of water rolling down her gleaming skin. Maybe she was drawn to her merely because she reminded Maya of a version of herself she hadn’t been in decades—although Maya’s life at twenty-four had been the opposite of Quinn’s. She’d traveled the country from competition to competition. She lived for what she did, for her passion. There was only ever dance and the occasional man to have some fun with, until Maya needed help with a complex tax issue and she’d met Drew, the most handsome accountant on the face of the planet.
But if it was Quinn’s youth she was drawn to, that made her thoughts even more impure and sinful. Or maybe it was just a matter of how she spun it to herself. Because if thinking of Quinn was just channeling memories of Maya’s own long-gone youth, there was nothing wrong with that. Reminiscing was harmless. It was fun, even, to consider the person she was then. So driven. So strong. So full of endless energy. These days, Maya only felt strong and energetic on the dance floor, and it only lasted for half an hour or so before she had to take a break, whereas before, she could have danced for hours on end.
She listened for sounds from the Hathaway garden. What was Quinn up to, all alone in her parents’ house? Was she thinking of Rachel? Or was she planning her next move on Maya?
Maya hoped for the latter. Yes, the consequences of it were unthinkable, but it sure was nice to be flirted with, to be wanted by someone so gorgeous and vital. Because Quinn was gorgeous. Maya bet that teacher hadn’t stood much of a chance once Quinn had set her sights on her.
She was only met with silence from the neighboring garden. Maya finished her tea, stripped off her sundress, and dove into the pool. She swam until her head was empty. Until she no longer associated the pool with Quinn’s almost-naked body. The girl would be leaving soon enough, anyway. The imminent return of Bill and Brooke would also help Maya get her mind off any impure thoughts she might have about their daughter.
“Is it like heaven in there?” The voice coming from the other side of the pool made Maya nearly jump out of her skin, as she was climbing out of the water, even though the owner of the voice had been on her mind incessantly.
“Quinn.” Maya looked around for her towel. She suddenly felt so naked. Damn. She’d forgotten to bring one out.
“I called to you from behind the bushes, but you didn’t hear me.” Quinn’s crooked grin was all confidence again—but turned up a few notches since yesterday. “I heard you splashing about in the pool and the sound was irresistible.”
“Could you do me a favor and get me a towel? They’re in the first closet on your right when you go inside.”
“Of course.” As if in no hurry at all, Quinn sauntered inside the house. She hadn’t bothered to wear a tank top today. Only the same skimpy bikini as yesterday and an abundance of glistening, smooth skin.
“Here you go.” Instead of handing her the towel, Quinn draped it over Maya’s shoulders. As Quinn reached up her arms, Maya’s gaze was drawn to a tattoo on her lower belly that peeked out from underneath her bikini pants. When Quinn’s arms lowered, the tattoo was covered up again, leaving Maya to wonder what it depicted.
“Feel free to jump in,” Maya said, insinuating that a swim was all Quinn had come over for.
“Thanks. I will in a minute, but before I do”—she stood there with her hands on her hips, her blue eyes blazing in the sun—“I wanted to invite you to dinner tonight. To thank you for sharing your pool with me. And for your magnificent company, of course.”
“You’re inviting me to dinner?”
Lips pursed, Quinn nodded.
“That’s really not necessary, Quinn. I’m more than happy for you to use the pool. You don’t have to thank me.”
“How else do I get to spend the evening with you?” She tilted her head and shifted her weight. How had this happened so quickly again? Maya wanted to scream yes and no simultaneously. How could she feel so uncomfortable and so flattered at the same time?
“Can you even cook?” Maya asked, unsure if her question would increase or deflate the tension.
“Not to save my life,” Quinn admitted. “But we have a well-stocked fr
eezer.”
Maya burst out laughing. “So you were wanting to treat me to a meal your mother prepared.”
Quinn shook her head. “My dad does most of the cooking at our house.” She tutted. “Such gender-normative thinking.”
“Must be my age,” Maya quipped. “The times I grew up in.”
“Okay.” Quinn opened her palms to the sky. “I can’t promise you a home-cooked meal, but I can promise you another hearty cocktail and some pleasant company.”
Maya had to decide there and then if she was going to play along with this. Quinn might boldly claim her own company was pleasant—and it was, Maya had to give her that—but that didn’t mean Maya had to say yes to any of this. “Why don’t you just hang out here? I’ll whip us up some dinner. You mix the cocktails.” The thought of having dinner with Quinn at the Hathaways’ house was several bridges too far. Maya had gone to countless dinners next door since she’d moved in, but never when Bill and Brooke weren’t home.
“That’s unacceptable. How am I thanking you if you’re the one cooking?”
“Something tells me you’ll find a way, Quinn.” And there it was. The first drawbridge was lowered. Maya was flirting back—she had decided to play along.
“All right. I will.” Quinn gave her a frank once-over. “It’s a date.” With that, she stepped out of her flip-flops and jumped into the pool.
As Quinn swam a few laps, Maya settled in a chair and watched her. Maybe she should have made plans for this weekend—the weekend Tommy took his first decisive step away from home. But Maya had believed she’d wanted to be alone this weekend. That she would go through some rite of passage, a sudden change; that, somehow, she’d learn to accept the situation if she was receptive to it. But this, she had not expected. A young woman in her pool. The girl next door inviting her to dinner. All these feelings spiraling inside of her until it actually gave her pleasure to relent. To say yes to Quinn. To look forward to tonight because she was sure of one thing: it would be anything but dull. Spending time with Quinn was the opposite of boring. Maya had to be on her toes, ready to respond to a quip here and some flirty banter there.