“And Elle?” Autumn asked.
“Held on until semis. She’ll earn some decent points off that showing. Hold on to number one easily.”
Hadley leaned in and whispered, “We still want you to take her down, right? Even though you’re surfing’s hottest new couple?”
“Definitely,” Gia whispered back.
Isabel tapped a finger on her lips. “How’s that going to work, exactly? You two are dating and also engaged in pretty heavy competition? Can both of those things exist?”
Gia squinted. “Haven’t figured that part out yet.”
“Sounds promising,” Isabel said. “Nothing can go wrong there.”
“Stop that!” Hadley told Isabel. “A minor detail. They’ll figure it out. Love finds a way.”
“Do not break into song,” Isabel deadpanned.
“No promises,” Hadley said, and reached for another croissant. She held it in the air. “I’m using these to cheer myself up. Work is not the picnic it once was.”
“What’s up?” Isabel asked.
“Trudy’s still not happy with the direction our current roster of designers is taking. We’ve pulled in some new ones to shake up the store’s image a bit. We’re shooting for contemporary, with an edge. But not too edgy. It’s a fine line, and apparently, I’m not delivering. Gotta drum up some new talent. Know anyone?”
Gia shrugged. “Fresh out of edgy-but-not-too-edgy designers.”
“Forget that woman. You’re awesome at your job,” Isabel said. “Every time I go in there it’s like I’m lost in a sea of amazing clothes I’m not good enough for.”
“Hardly,” Hadley said.
Autumn pointed at the plate in the center of the table. “And please eat all of those croissants or I’m going to blow up like a pregnant Macy’s Thanksgiving Day balloon. Eating for three is feeling more like feeding an army.” She placed a hand on her growing stomach.
Gia smiled. “Enjoy it. You should be pampering yourself. Eat all the baked goods.”
Autumn stared at her and helped herself to one more. “You’re a dangerous person.”
“Let’s hope I’m as effective on a surfboard.” She stood. “Off to train before I fall off the leaderboard entirely.” She pointed at Hadley. “Keep your chin up.” She pointed at Isabel. “Write the hell out of that ex-CIA woman.” She pointed at Autumn. “Keep making human beings.”
Three salutes came her way.
She spent the rest of the day taking her body to task. A run on the beach, an intense ab workout, weight training, and a marathon surf session in which she put herself through the wringer, working through every skill she knew. She wasn’t willing to let this opportunity slip through her fingers. Once the tournament concluded and the points were in, she’d held on to her number two ranking, but barely. She needed to buckle down and focus on not just defending her own position but moving up the board, which meant knocking Elle down. Refusing to let her personal life factor in would be key. When they were on tour, Elle had to remain just another competitor in her eyes. Away from the water was different. She could just be…Elle. Gia smiled at that version, picturing Elle, missing her. They hadn’t laid eyes on each other since Gia departed the tournament the morning after she’d lost. They’d texted, chatted on the phone into the night even, but it was the live and in person Elle that Gia craved.
She attached her board to the top of her car, gave herself a quick dust off, and hopped inside. As she started her engine, she glanced at her phone.
I’m outside your apartment, and you’re MIA.
She froze. The text was from Elle, but she wasn’t supposed to be back until that night. Energized once she realized the text came in only minutes before, she put the car in drive and quickly drove the short two blocks to Seven Shores. If she was fast enough, maybe she could…
“You’re here,” Elle said, beaming at her from one of the outdoor couches. Gia didn’t hesitate. She pulled Elle into an embrace and held on, burying her nose in Elle’s hair, taking her in.
“Why are you early?” she murmured, still not letting go.
Elle laughed. “I canceled the last round of interviews. They only wanted to talk about one thing. Can you guess which?”
Gia released her, and searched her eyes. “Did you tell them to go to hell?” she asked, feeling extra protective.
“Not exactly my style. I told them when I was ready to talk about it, they would hear from me.” She squinted. “I tend to think the kiss stands on its own, though.”
“I guess that’s true. How are you doing with it all? The attention?” She didn’t allow herself to examine what it might mean for her if Elle wasn’t doing okay. Underneath it all, she still hadn’t entirely convinced herself that Elle knew what she was getting into or felt confident in this new life decision. Maybe she’d change her mind and, after trying it on, would realize this wasn’t who she was after all. One of the reasons Gia had suggested moving slow. Self-preservation was important. Gia didn’t put herself out there easily, and she was starting to do just that.
But Elle didn’t look reluctant. In fact, she was luminous, glowing even. “I’m better now,” she said, touching Gia’s cheek softly. “I’ve just wanted to see you is all. Not saying it wasn’t a roller coaster of a week.”
“I can imagine.”
“Did you just come out of the water?” Elle asked, her eyes dipping to Gia’s bathing suit top.
Gia nodded. “Trying to keep up with you.” She glanced at the stairs to her apartment. “Coming in? I have to shower.”
The idea seemed to intrigue Elle. “Definitely. I need to see this place for myself at long last.”
Gia sighed. “Okay. Not as fluffy and put together as yours. Fair warning.”
“Bracing myself.”
Gia’s nerves hit as she led Elle to her second-floor apartment and let them inside. Her place would definitely not live up to Elle’s. She surveyed the space now, seeing it how Elle might. She quickly dashed about the living room, straightening odds and ends, grabbing the sweatshirt (damn it) she’d left on the couch and tossing it into her bedroom.
Elle smiled. “Green surfboard on the wall.”
Gia nodded. “One of my favorites from years ago. Couldn’t bear to toss it when it busted.” She was acutely aware that there was no other art, other than the surfing posters on her bedroom wall that now seemed juvenile and obnoxious. Elle didn’t seem to mind.
“It’s very you. Lots of bright colors.”
Gia glanced around. “That don’t exactly match.” Her blue couch and red-cushioned dining chairs now seemed cringe-worthy. She really should have let Hadley go to town when it came to decorating.
“They match you,” Elle said, meaning it as a compliment.
Gia nodded. “Can I get you a soda or something to eat?” She remembered that her fridge was mostly empty and hoped Elle would pass on that snack. Note to self: Buy groceries for guests. Always. Have. Groceries.
“I’m good. Go. Take your shower. I’ll wander around your bedroom and snoop.”
“Oh, that can’t yield much good, but knock yourself out. I’m boring as hell.” But she did a quick mental check anyway, realizing that there was nothing too incriminating lying around. She should be good.
She left Elle on her own and, moments later, stood under the hot water in utter surrender as the heat worked her aching muscles. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back, letting the pressure of the water massage her scalp, reaching blindly for the shampoo when Elle’s voice from her bedroom interrupted.
“Are you singing in there?”
She straightened, horrified. She had been singing, hadn’t she? It was her ritual, and so second nature, she hadn’t even realized she was doing it—with company present no less. Not even company, Elle. “Oh, sorry!” she called back.
A chuckle. “Don’t stop on my account.”
But of course she would, and how long had she been going before Elle said anything? Didn’t matter. Her singing was atroci
ous, which was why she only ever sang when alone in the shower, and now her singing was out there in the world, and someone she was interested in, and whose opinion mattered to her, had heard. She sighed, finished up, and stepped out of the shower, closing her eyes at a brand-new revelation. She’d left her clothes in her bedroom. That’s right. When you lived alone and rarely had company, there was no reason not to walk naked from the bathroom to the bedroom and dress there. It was official, she was a bonehead. A very naked bonehead, with a newly minted lesbian (perhaps not ready for naked parades) on the other side of the door from her. Only one choice. Gia wrapped herself in a towel and casually walked to the bedroom, where she would quickly find appropriate attire and return to the bathroom to dress. That could work. With a solid plan in mind, she went for it.
As Gia entered the bedroom, Elle turned, mouth open, ready to speak. When she saw Gia clad in only a towel, however, the words died on her lips and she went still. “Oh,” she said instead. She looked away to be polite, but only briefly. When her gaze returned to Gia, it moved unabashedly across every inch of exposed skin, sending a powerful shiver right through Gia. She was being objectified, and in this case, she didn’t mind at all.
“Sorry. I just need clothes.”
“Don’t go out of your way on my account,” Elle said, with a small smile, half joking, half not.
“You can’t flirt with me right now.”
“Yes, I can,” Elle said boldly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She had always been a go-getter, and apparently, that trait transferred to her personal life. Gia liked that about her. No game playing. No reading between the lines. With Elle, what you saw was what you got. Still, Gia wasn’t ready to drop the towel just yet. Wasn’t how she imagined that particular moment, and she did imagine it. A lot.
“Be right back,” she said, dashing into the bathroom and throwing on her clothes.
Elle looked thoughtful when she returned. “That was Britney Spears, wasn’t it? You were singing Britney Spears in your shower for me.”
Gia held up a finger as she walked to the living room, Elle hot on her heels. “Technically, it wasn’t for you. Britney and I go back years. And I wouldn’t subject anyone to my singing.”
“It’s unique.”
“C’mon, it’s awful.”
“I wasn’t going to use that word. I prefer endearing with artistic license.”
Gia winced. “You’re kind.”
“All my mother’s work. You would like her.”
“Would she like me?” The question had more to do with Elle’s recent outing to her parents (and everyone else) than it did about Gia and her mother actually meeting.
“I think she would. She’s going to need time to adjust to the idea of…a woman. Don’t think she saw that one coming, but hey, neither did I. She’s an open-minded person, though, and she loves her kids a lot.”
“She sounds like good people.” She pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and tossed one to Elle. “Are you doing okay?”
Elle nodded. “Um, surprisingly, yes. Did I hyperventilate in my hotel room when I realized what I’d done without even realizing it? I did. That happened. Would I take it back?” A small pause. “Uh-uh.”
Gia exhaled in relief, doing her best to mask the reaction and play it casual. “I was worried…about you.” She put her hand on her hip and then dropped it, not sure how to stand. Why did she suck so hard at sentimentality?
“Then come sit by me.” The look in Elle’s eye sent a flutter traveling through Gia’s system. She really had missed her. She took a seat next to Elle and pulled Elle’s legs across her lap. They couldn’t seem to sit in close proximity without touching. It seemed to be an Elle and Gia rule.
“Hi,” Elle said quietly.
Gia smiled. “Hi.”
“There are no designers in LA,” Hadley announced, breezing into the apartment in her upscale work clothes. “You would think I’m exaggerating. I’m not, I just—hey, there,” she said, her eyes landing on Elle. A pause as a smile blossomed. “You’re here.”
“Hi,” Elle said, standing. She certainly did know how to turn on the high-wattage smile, which seemed to make Hadley happy. Had liked friendly. She embodied it. “I’m Elle Britton, we haven’t officially met.”
“Not officially,” Hadley said, beaming. “But I know all about you. I’m Hadley.”
“I’ve heard of you, too,” Elle said. “Want to sit?”
“Definitely,” Hadley said, planting herself on the chair across from them. “I hear you did well at the tournament.”
“Not the finals, but I’ll take it. What were you saying about the designers in LA?”
“Oh, that they’re ruining my life pretty much. I need new ones. Lesser-knowns to bring into the boutique I work at, and they’re just not out there. At least the caliber I need.”
“Hadley’s looking for high end but edgy.”
“Still classy,” Hadley filled in.
“I have a friend,” Elle offered, looking thoughtful. “She’s really quite good. I should have her look you up. She’s gone viral on social media and looks to be the next big thing.”
“Oh, my goodness, I would welcome that. I’m at Silhouette on Rodeo Drive. Tell her to ask for Hadley Cooper. I’d love to take a look.”
Elle laughed at the sincerity of emotion. “Done. Her name is Spencer Adair, and I know she’s got a lot on her plate. But I’ll let her know you’re looking.”
“Spencer, okay. Great!” Hadley pointed at Elle. “I like her.”
“I like her, too,” Elle said, pointing back at Hadley. The two of them laughed and continued chatting away on a myriad of topics.
“I love your shoes.”
“Tell me the best part about surfing.”
“How many years have you and Gia been friends?”
It went on, and on.
There was never a lull, a gap, where one of them had to force conversation. Gia watched in awe. It was like two long-lost best friends sitting on her couch. They practically forgot she was in the room, and she wondered distantly if she should figure out something else to do.
“So, and stop me if I’m getting all up your business, but the kiss photo?” Hadley asked.
“Right. Not my most-thought-out moment, but sometimes you just have to follow your heart.” Elle’s cheeks colored and Gia felt warm all over hearing that it was Elle’s heart that had compelled her to kiss Gia that day.
Hadley clearly liked that answer as well. “Yes! You completely have to.” She furrowed her brow. “How are you handling it? Do you need anything? Baked goods?”
“You’re so awesome to offer, but I’m actually hanging in there.” She glanced over at Gia and smiled. “While it’s scary to announce something so publicly without even thinking, this has been a really happy time in my life, and that beats all the side effects.”
“So, no brownies, then?” Hadley asked.
“Unless you just want to be nice.”
“Brownies it is!” Hadley’s eyes lit up with a new project. She stood, energized now. “I’ll let you two get back to making out or whatever it was you were doing on that couch when I barged in.” She bowed. “As you were.”
“Wait. Had, you okay?” Gia asked, wanting to make sure her friend didn’t need her. “The work thing had you bothered when you walked in.”
“Much better now,” Hadley said, hand on her heart, and dashed out of the apartment.
Gia stared at Elle. “Did you just find a new best friend?”
She blinked back happily. “You know, I think I did. You come with a lot of perks. Britney Spears serenades and people like Hadley.”
“I’m pleased and afraid.”
“You should be both of those. What are our plans tonight?”
“Let’s go to dinner,” Gia said.
“Perfect. And then my place after?”
The implication was clear. Elle was inviting her to stay the night, and she wasn’t sure she had the fortitude to resist any lon
ger. “Are you sure about the after?”
“We could come back to yours. I’m open.”
Gia shook her head, wanting to make sure this was truly what Elle wanted. “You know what I mean.”
“Are you asking if I’m sure that I want you to take me home after dinner and have your way with me?” Elle nodded solemnly. “Very.”
Gia inhaled at the potency of that word. She wanted Elle so badly, but her desire had just tripled with its utterance. “Your place it is.”
* * *
Elle wasn’t generally a nervous person. In fact, she’d been told on multiple occasions that she had nerves of steel. She’d taken those words as a compliment and wore them like a badge of honor. Her courage had served her well in every aspect of her life, but as she got ready for dinner, she had a confession to make to the person looking back at her in the mirror. She was nervous for tonight. Deeply nervous.
She’d had sex for the first time at nineteen with a boy she’d gone to high school with, Grayson Trotter, who was dark haired, blue-eyed, and the captain of the tennis team. She’d thought he was the most good-looking boy she’d ever seen, and when his attention turned to her that summer after their senior year, she thought she was the luckiest girl ever. They had a good time together, went to movies, the beach. She’d even taught him to surf—with mediocre results. One night, when Grayson had his parents’ house to himself, she’d come over. Marathon kissing on the cramped couch had turned into sex. Very, very disappointing sex. She’d always romanticized making love, had looked forward to it, waited for the right moment to take that leap. Grayson had seemed like the one to take it with. The end result had been fast, uncomfortable, and without pleasure. Thinking it had been a symptom of it being her first time, she’d not rushed to any conclusions. But her continued sexual relationship with Grayson, and the handful of men who’d come after him, had resulted in one lackluster sexual experience after another. It hadn’t been a fluke.
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