“Anyone can see that.” And Caroline’s voice was suddenly thick. As if she wanted to say something else.
But didn’t.
Suddenly, Sydney realized that she had choices.
It seemed as if this moment was the one Sydney had been waiting for her whole life. There, before her, sat a woman who made her heart ache and her body burn, a woman she had feelings for, a woman she thought was so beautiful, inside and out.
A woman who called to her.
A woman who drew her in.
A woman she longed for—body and soul.
Caroline still held her hands, still sat close to her; she hadn’t moved. So it was easy, so easy, to lean forward just a little.
Sydney did it carefully, with an agonizing slowness.
She lifted her chin.
She met Caroline's eyes.
And their mouths touched.
And Sydney kissed Caroline.
Warmth.
Softness.
A halo of perfume that enveloped her, embracing her.
Caroline…responding.
Caroline's mouth melted softly against Sydney’s. The sensation was vague, barely perceptible, but that didn't matter. Because though Sydney had leaned forward, had started this…Caroline finished it.
The kiss lasted a heartbeat. Perhaps two. Hardly any amount of time at all. For as Sydney kissed her harder, deeper, as Caroline opened her mouth to her, the heat rising between them…
The lights in Sydney’s apartment came back on.
They were drowned in light, as if a star had exploded indoors.
Instantly, Caroline pulled back.
Her eyes were wide. Her mouth open. Her lips wet.
She stood up, drew a hand up to her ponytail, ran her fingers through her hair.
“Keep…keep the food,” she said, taking a step backward.
“Wait—” Sydney whispered.
But Caroline had already crossed the room to the door, opened it, and left.
Chapter 11
“You did what?”
Stricken, Sydney glanced around the store and waved her hands. “Shh,” she whispered, but Thom was characteristically relentless.
“No, you cannot tell me a story like that and leave me hanging! Why the hell didn’t you go after her?” His voice was loud, his inflection dramatic; several ladies paused in their shopping to stare, but Thom saluted them with a false, cheeky grin before turning back to glare at Sydney.
Sydney massaged her temples. “I don’t know. I guess I just... I don’t know, Thom. Maybe I was in shock about what I’d done. I mean, I kissed her. I did the thing I’ve been wanting to do since I first heard her sing…” She trailed off. Sydney had spent a lull in activity at Martin's updating Thom on everything that had happened with Caroline. She needed to talk about it with someone, and Thom was a great—if overly enthusiastic—listener.
“I know she kissed me back,” Sydney said, narrowing her eyes. “I felt it.”
Thom raised a brow. “Even more reason for you to have gone after her.”
Sydney considered this, then sighed. “Maybe I should have. I just...didn’t know what to do. I mean, it’s easier for you. You weren’t—” Sydney caught herself, and her mouth went dry.
She’d almost said, “You weren’t brainwashed.”
Thom watched her, impatient. “Well? I wasn't what?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
He was clearly suspicious, but he didn’t press the matter. “I’m just saying, this is the woman of your dreams or some shit like that, right?”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“And you didn’t go after her.” He gestured wildly, asked, “Don’t you have a single romantic bone in your body?”
“I’m fairly certain they’re all romantic. That's the problem.” Sydney groaned and covered her face with her hands. She was exhausted. She hadn’t gotten any sleep last night because she kept wondering if she should have gone after Caroline, wondering if she should get out of bed, march up the stairs, knock on Caroline's door, and declare her feelings.
But in the end, she didn't do anything. She tossed and turned, feeling confused and miserable, until she rose for the day at five o’clock in the morning. She watched the sun rise during a long walk with Max. She had hoped the walk might clear her head, but she had no such luck.
In an effort to sort out her feelings, she’d turned to Thom.
But he was only making her feel as if she had, indeed, messed up by not following Caroline last night.
Thom started to straighten up a clothing rack, sorting the shirts by size. “So, what are you going to do now?”
Sydney stared, at a loss for words.
“Didn’t you say you have a lesson with her this afternoon? Like, a piano lesson?”
“Voice lesson,” she said, and her heart skipped several beats. Nervously, she began to help Thom sort the rack. “But I’m not going to go.”
“Why wouldn’t you?” Thom met her eyes, an expression of bewilderment on his face. “It’s the perfect excuse for you to see her again, talk things out.”
“Thom, it's complicated. I can't just—”
“Really? Because I kind of think you can.” He crossed his arms and angled Sydney a no-nonsense frown. “Woman meets woman. Really likes woman. Kisses her. Other woman kisses back. They live happily ever after. Sweeping music, ‘the end,’ credits roll. It’s a classic love story, Sydney.”
“Not when it’s two women. And you know it.”
Thom shrugged. “Love is love. And you know that.”
Love?
That was...a heavy word.
Sydney had had little experience with love. She supposed she’d loved her parents—once. Though they had never been kind. They’d never treated her with patience or compassion. And any love Sydney had had for them evaporated soon after they dropped her off on a stranger’s doorstep. When they refused to pick her up following the police sting at the Redeemer House, that had permanently severed any ties she had to them.
Of course, she had loved Laurie, and a part of her still did, despite what Laurie had said, denying her involvement in the kiss.
And Sydney loved Max.
And…that was it.
She felt so sad and lonely suddenly; a well of emptiness opened up in her heart and began to drag her into its dark abyss.
Thom gripped Sydney gently—but firmly—by the shoulders, forcing her out of her reverie.
“Syd. Listen. You said you fell for a girl before. What was that like?” His voice was soft.
“It...” She took a deep breath, feeling anxious and a little dizzy. But she forced herself to answer Thom's question, nevertheless. “It was beautiful—for a couple of minutes. And then it turned into a nightmare that I can never forget.” Her legs wobbled, but she managed to remain standing. “And it led to the hardest days of my life.”
“That's the bad stuff you won’t tell me about.”
She nodded, lowering her eyes.
“Okay. I'm sorry about all of that. I'm so, so sorry. But this is different, yeah?”
“Yeah. Because Caroline’s a lot older than me—”
“And that matters why, exactly?”
“I just...don’t know if she’s thought about me like I’ve thought about her. She's called me a kid a few times. She might only see me that way, only see my age—”
“So, you show her you’re not a kid.”
“Pretty sure that kiss showed her.” Sydney grimaced and raked a hand through her hair. “I think...it might just be over. Caroline left. That means she doesn’t—”
“All it means is that she was surprised, Sydney. She's had some time to think now. Go to that lesson today and just...see what happens.”
“But what should I say?” Sydney's body tensed. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff, deciding whether or not to jump. “I’ve got to explain myself. I’ve got to—”
“Whoa, whoa. See what she says first. You can rehearse a million speeches in
your head, but you have no idea how she's feeling. Listen to her.” He shrugged, returning to the clothing rack. “And then respond accordingly.”
On the way home, Sydney leaned against the bus window and watched the buildings blur by. She was too tired to mull over her impending conversation with Caroline. Thom was right: she couldn't predict how Caroline would respond. She might open her apartment door and sweep Sydney into a tight embrace. Or she might refuse to open the door at all.
By the time she reached the Hamilton, a few minutes before six-thirty, she was so sick with worry that her hands were shaking. She walked Max quickly, unseeingly, and then, with a racing heart, she climbed the staircase to the seventh floor.
She was out of breath and already panicking. She stood before Caroline's door for a long, agonizing moment, her eyes shut, her hands curled into fists at her sides. An outside observer might have thought she was bracing herself for a terrible impact.
And, in a way, she was.
Sydney raised her hand and knocked.
Seconds passed, and there was no sound from the other side.
As she waited, Sydney's pulse accelerated; she felt a little faint.
But then came an echo of high heels—heels that seemed to pause just behind the door.
Sydney lifted her eyes and stared at the peephole. She knew Caroline was looking through it, looking at her.
Sydney swallowed, lifted her chin, drew in a gulp of air. She didn’t know how she looked to the woman on the other side, but she hoped that—no matter what—Caroline would let her in. That Caroline would be open to talking to her.
The deadbolt was thrown; the lock turned, along with the doorknob.
And there was Caroline.
She stood, her jaw set, her feet clad in shiny heels beneath the full skirt of her navy blue dress. Her hair was drawn up into a bun, with loose blonde tendrils framing her face. A handful of pearls glittered at her throat.
Her face was cool, aloof.
And Sydney’s heart fell through the floor.
“Hello,” said Caroline, nodding to Sydney. “I…didn’t expect to see you today.”
“Oh.” Sydney tried to sound strong, but her voice cracked when she asked, “Are we still on? For the lesson?”
Caroline bit her lower lip, and then the mask she was wearing slipped just a little, revealing, for a heartbeat, something soft beneath. Sydney could only hope that softness meant that all hope was not yet lost.
“Caroline.” The word was like a jewel in Sydney's mouth. She put her hands in her pockets, dared to meet the woman's bright blue gaze. “Did I do something wrong?”
Sydney could see Caroline’s pulse fluttering beneath the soft skin of her throat, as if her heart were beating quickly, too quickly.
She didn't reply.
“Because if I did do something wrong, I’ll apologize. If I upset you, I want to apologize. Please. Just tell me what you're thinking.” Sydney's voice was thick with emotion.
Still, Caroline said nothing.
Sydney took a deep breath, let it out. “What do you want me to do?”
Caroline leaned out of the door frame then, her gaze traveling up and down the length of the hallway. There was no one else around.
“Come in,” she said, stepping aside to let Sydney past.
Sydney entered, her chest tight with fear and frustration, as Caroline shut and locked the door.
“Caroline—” Sydney began, but Caroline held up her hand, her eyes downcast.
So Sydney waited.
She waited for a long time.
It appeared as if Caroline were trying to figure out what to say, her jaw flexing, her eyes half-closed.
There was a pulsing between them, like something electric. Sydney felt it zinging through every atom of her body.
She wondered if Caroline felt it, too.
And when Caroline straightened and, finally, looked at her, she knew—knew—that Caroline did feel it, knew that Caroline was attracted to her, knew that Caroline had shared Sydney's feelings all this time. She knew, and the joy of that knowledge rendered Sydney speechless.
She took a step forward, prepared to reach for Caroline—but the other woman shook her head.
And the open, aching expression on her face changed.
“Sydney,” Caroline said, her voice smooth and cool, like a polished gem, “if Mrs. Williams got wind of what you did last night—”
“Wait.” Sydney stared as Caroline watched her with somber, hooded eyes. “You’re worried about Mrs. Williams—”
“I make my living teaching girls your age, sometimes younger, sometimes older,” she said softly. “Nearly all of my students are in their teens.” Her eyes flicked toward Sydney's. “You’re a teenager, right?”
“I’m...nineteen. But I’m legal—”
“Legality,” said Caroline brusquely, “means little to people like Mrs. Williams. She’s got her fingers in a lot of pies around here, and I have no doubt that that woman could and would attempt to destroy me again if she chose to do so—”
“Again?” Sydney held up her hands helplessly, brow furrowed. “What does that mean, ‘again'?”
Caroline glanced away abruptly, her posture formal, stiff. “That’s not your problem.” And when she looked at Sydney once more, her eyes were haunted, dark and wide, pain forcing the soft lines around her mouth—smile lines, Sydney had thought—into an unmistakable expression of sadness.
“I’m sorry, Sydney,” said Caroline, and though her voice was controlled, careful, it broke on the last syllable of Sydney's name. “I think you should go.”
A sob caught in Sydney's throat. She stood motionless, in shock, curling her fingernails into her palms until the sting brought her back to earth, to Pittsburgh, to the Hamilton. To this room.
Though she wanted to respond, to argue, to say the perfect words that would make Caroline soft again, warm again, Sydney only nodded.
She couldn’t see through her tears, but somehow she found her way to the door.
Chapter 12
U coming over?
Sydney stared at her phone’s screen, then let the phone drop down onto the couch. Thom had sent that text message about thirty minutes ago, and she still hadn’t replied.
Max thumped his tail hopefully, fixing her with a baleful stare. She’d missed his potty break; she just hadn’t been able to work up the energy to go outside yet. She hadn’t moved from this spot, embedded on the couch, for hours, and she couldn’t fathom getting up, or doing anything.
She was too sad, too hurting.
Her phone began to ring, and with a groan, she picked it up.
It was Thom.
Guilt got the better of her, and she answered, putting the call on speaker so that she could still loll on the couch and avoid using her neck muscles.
“Hi,” she muttered.
“Well, good afternoon to you, too, sunshine,” Thom drawled. “Hey—did you get my text?”
“Yeah, but, listen—”
“Hell, no, you’re not backing out, Syd. You’ve got to come over. I already ordered the pizza!”
As if to further persuade her, her stomach growled.
“It’s your day off. Come hang, and we’ll play video games and eat junk food, and it’ll be fun. You canceled on me two weeks ago. At least try to go a whole month without doing it again, okay?”
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Thom. I just…had a bad day yesterday.” She glanced at Max, who was sprawled over her feet and gave her another tail wag. “Just a minute, buddy,” she murmured, scratching him beneath his chin.
“Did you talk to the hot lady? Did you go to that lesson?”
Sydney stared down at the floor, trying to shake the memory of the cold expression on Caroline's face. “Yeah...”
“Well, spill the tea when you come over. I want to hear all about it. But get your ass moving—that pizza’s gonna get here soon, and you don’t want to eat it when it’s room temperature, do you?”
“No, I d
on't.” Sydney found herself smiling for the first time in almost twenty-four hours. “Okay, I’ll see you soon. I think I have time to walk Max and still catch the bus to your place.”
Thom clucked his tongue. “If you’re lucky. Get cracking!”
“I'm going, I'm going,” Sydney chuckled. She hung up and pocketed her phone in her back pocket as she stood. Max sprung to his feet, whining a little.
“I’m the worst doggie momma. I’m so sorry, buddy. Let’s go outside.” She grabbed his leash and clipped it onto his collar. Then, attaching her apartment keys to her belt loop, she let herself out into the hallway.
Afternoon sunshine filtered in from the front door, creating a path of light for Sydney and Max to follow.
Normally, Sydney took her dog into the courtyard, but not every day. There was a parking lot located behind the Hamilton for those tenants with cars, and behind that parking lot was a sidewalk that wound through some neighborhoods whose houses and trees Sydney admired.
Max usually nosed around in the courtyard for a long time, longer than she could afford today. So she led him out the front door and around the side of the building, aiming for the parking lot.
She was lost in thought, her hands deep in her pockets, the leash’s loop wrapped around her right wrist. Her eyes were aimed at her feet, and she was thinking about yesterday, of course—couldn't help but think about it—so she was in the parking lot itself before she got around to taking in her surroundings.
And then she stopped.
Blinked.
Stared.
There, on her hands and knees, her back facing Sydney…was Caroline.
Caroline's full skirt spread around her on the ground as she worked at something with her arms. She appeared to be scrubbing the pavement with…a sponge?
The image was a strange one, and it took Sydney a moment to make sense of what she was seeing. Besides, it was a shock to see Caroline at all, so soon after their last conversation.
Sydney felt wretched, but an impulse to make things right with Caroline—along with a healthy dose of curiosity—compelled her to move forward, guiding Max along beside her.
Caroline sat back on her heels then, glancing over her shoulder. When she saw Sydney, her expression didn’t change, but she already looked upset.
The Longing Page 12
