by KL Hughes
“Proper hygiene is a must.” Elena shook her head. “And certainly no talk of restroom activities.”
Alexis’s lips parted as she stared at her. “I’m sorry. What?”
“My previous date,” Elena said, and Alexis frowned.
“That is unfortunate.”
“Yes.” Elena nodded. “He carried on a full conversation about his IBS with the waitress. The poor girl was obviously uncomfortable.”
“I hope you didn’t plan a second date.”
“Of course not.” Elena chuckled. “The first made for quite the hysterical rant from Allison, though, so the night at least ended in a laugh.”
“Allison?”
Elena blinked. She had not meant to bring up Allison, but she had slipped into the conversation regardless. Elena licked her lips and cleared her throat. “Allison is the babysitter I mentioned.”
She was surprised when Alexis let out a sigh that bordered on a laugh. It sounded hard for a laugh, bordering on angry, and Elena stiffened in her chair.
“Is something funny?”
Alexis shook her head. “I’m sorry, Elena,” she said. “It just seems like you are more interested in your babysitter tonight than you are in me.”
The words hit Elena like a hard punch to the gut. Her heart began to pound against her ribcage, and a lump formed in her throat. Her head swam with thoughts of Allison, with looks and laughter and little touches, and, suddenly, it was as if something clicked firmly into place and Elena couldn’t breathe.
“I…” She pushed up out of her chair, her hand clamping around her phone and clutch.
“Elena?” Alexis looked up at her, brows knitting together.
Elena’s throat felt tight and dry and her eyes stung horribly. She could feel the heat in her face and knew it must be visible. “I need to go,” she said. “I, I’m sorry. I should go.”
Alexis gaped at her and Elena made quick work of pulling several large bills from her clutch and placing them on the table. “I will hail a cab. Dinner is on me. Thank you for a lovely evening, Alexis, and, again, I am terribly sorry about this.”
She couldn’t bring herself to wait for a response before speeding away, heels clicking loudly with every frantic step.
Chapter Thirteen
The slim stick heels of Elena’s black pumps bounced rapidly against the taxi floor as she pressed the first number on her speed dial. Her heart was a flapping, fluttering mess, thudding into her ribcage in painful tremors as she waited through three agonizingly long rings before her best friend’s voice finally drifted through the line.
“Elena?” Vivian said. “I thought you were supposed to be on a da—”
“It’s Allison,” Elena blurted.
Vivian snorted into the phone. “Really Elena? I’ve known you basically my entire life, okay? I know your voice almost better than my own. Plus, I’ve only had one glass of wine tonight. I know it’s you.”
“Of course it’s me! That’s not what I meant. I meant that it’s Allison.”
“That is literally exactly what you said the first time. So, you’re telling me that you meant to say what you actually said? Because if so, then you have completely lost me.”
Elena let out a trembling, frustrated sigh. “Will you shut up and listen, please?”
“Well, stop repeating yourself.”
The ring of a doorbell echoed through Elena’s phone, followed quickly by Vivian saying, “Oh, hold on, babe. There’s someone at my door.”
“I know.”
“What do you mean?”
Vivian opened her front door to reveal a frazzled Elena, her phone still pressed to her ear and a taxi pulling away from the curb. She started to laugh, but the look in her friend’s eyes caused the sound to die in her throat. Vivian nearly dropped her phone as she immediately reached out for her best friend and tugged her into the house.
* * *
“All right, big guy,” Allison whispered. Lucas’s head lay lazily atop her shoulder, his face buried into the crook of her neck as she carried him down the hallway. One of his fists curled into the neckline of her shirt and the other dangled limply behind them. He had fallen asleep in Allison’s lap about fifteen minutes into a movie.
“Time for little boys with sneakily gay mommies to go to bed.” She rolled her eyes. “Sneakily gay mommies who don’t tell equally gay babysitters that they are ga-ay.”
“Or bisexual.” She lay Lucas in his bed. His fist clung to her shirt and she had to pry his fingers from the neckline before she could stand up again. “Or pansexual.” She tucked him in tightly. “Hot-sexual. Dates hot people. Whatever.”
Allison realized she was ranting. “Wow,” she said as she leaned down and pressed two tender kisses to Lucas’s forehead. “I’m so glad you’re asleep right now, kid.”
She then slipped from his room, closing the door behind her.
* * *
“You ran out on your date?” Vivian handed Elena a glass of wine, dropped onto the couch beside her, and patted her knee.
“Yes, I ran out on my date.” Elena huffed. “Politely. I politely ran out on my date.”
“How do you politely run out on a date?” Vivian chuckled. “And I still don’t understand why.”
“Because!” Elena nearly shouted at her. “Because I couldn’t stay there, Viv! I panicked, and I couldn’t stay there, because I realized…”
Elena trailed off, visibly swallowing. Vivian wanted to encourage her, but instead she kept quiet, waiting for Elena to say whatever it was she needed to say in her own time. She could only recall a few times in their lives in which she had seen Elena this genuinely disturbed. The first was in junior high school when Elena got her first ever period and bled right through her skirt and onto her chair in Keyboarding class. Vivian had chased after her after threatening to beat the shit out of Matthew Douglas, a snotty rich boy with an ugly bowl cut and a penchant for teasing all the girls. She bought a tampon from the coin machine in the girls’ bathroom and helped Elena figure out how to insert it, and they hid out in there until Nora was called to collect them. The second time was when Elena lost her virginity to Preston McBride, a snobby heir to a multi-million dollar corporation, the summer before their senior year. Vivian had had to endure eight days of Elena crying over the possibility of being pregnant and cursing herself over the one time she actually allowed herself to be impulsive. The day her period came had been a relief to them both.
“Because I realized that it’s Allison.”
Vivian leaned a little toward her friend, locking gazes with her. She sincerely hoped that what she assumed was happening in this moment was actually happening, and her heart pounded in her chest.
“Honey,” Vivian cooed, reaching out to lace her fingers through Elena’s, “you keep saying that, but you are going to have to clarify what you mean, because I can’t read your mind.”
Like hell I can’t read your mind, Vivian thought, her insides practically vibrating with the intensity of the moment. I just want to hear you say it!
Elena’s lips parted as if she were about to answer, but then she merely reached for her wine and tipped it back. Vivian’s eyes widened as Elena drained the entire glass in one massive strained gulp.
Oh yeah, Vivian thought, this is totally happening.
As soon as Elena choked her way through the swallow, she said, “I think I may be falling for Allison.”
Vivian squealed like a giddy teenager on the inside but managed to keep her composure. She had to be the one to hold it together, because Elena certainly wouldn’t. This one small yet major confession tore down the floodgates, and Elena launched into a massive, rambling explanation.
“I was on the date,” Elena told her. “I was on the date with Alexis, and things were going well. Okay, actually, things weren’t going so well. She was gorgeous and funny and well-mannered, but I was admittedly not the best date. Allison got hurt earlier this evening, nothing terribly serious, but I was concerned all throughout dinner and ke
pt checking my phone.”
“You would have been annoyed if someone did that to you,” Vivian said.
“I know.” Elena groaned. “I was awful, but I couldn’t help myself. I kept thinking about her and worrying about her, and then Alexis suggested…”
“What?”
“She said I seemed more interested in the babysitter than in her.”
Vivian pressed her lips together to keep from smiling, because Elena already looked nervous and embarrassed, and she didn’t want to add to it, but it was a definite struggle.
“And then it just hit me,” Elena said, taking a shaky breath as her heels tapped against the floor. “I realized that she was right. I was interested in Allison. I am interested in Allison.”
Resisting the urge to clap was terribly difficult because Vivian was on cloud nine watching Elena’s eyes grow distant yet warmer.
“I suppose it has been developing since the beginning.” Elena twisted her fingers together in her lap. “Though I somehow never noticed it. We would spend time together after my dates, and she makes me laugh like I’ve never laughed. She is so wonderful with Lucas. He loves her, and she seems to genuinely enjoy spending time with him and with me, though I suppose I could be reading into that. I just feel so comfortable with her, Viv, which is shocking, I know, because she and I are so different. We come from completely different worlds, and there is nearly nothing that we have in common, but she somehow seems to understand me.”
Vivian bit the inside of her cheek to keep the massive smile she was withholding from spilling across her face. She was so happy for her friend and that her plan had actually worked that she was afraid if her lips even slightly parted, she would burst into song or something equally over the top.
“I know that none of this makes any sense,” Elena continued. “In reality, she and I hardly know one another, but when I’m with her, I feel like we’ve known one another forever. It feels easy with her when it shouldn’t. It feels comfortable even when I am actually uncomfortable.” She laughed, pressing a hand to her forehead. “And God, Vivian, the way she looks at me sometimes, and the way she holds Lucas, and th—”
“Oh my God, stop!” Vivian couldn’t hold it in any longer. She squeezed Elena’s hand as she groaned. “I am dying over here!”
Startled by her sudden outburst, Elena jolted from her reverie and stared at Vivian, completely bewildered. “I’m sorry?”
“This is just too good. You’re spewing sonnets about the way your babysitter holds your son and makes you laugh, and it’s like a freaking movie, and I’m dying from an overload of feelings.”
Elena’s face brightened with her smile, a disbelieving and breathless laugh escaping her. “Oh God, I know! I don’t even know what I’m doing right now.”
“Seriously! What are you doing? Why are you here?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, why the hell did you come here looking like you needed me to help you hide a body instead of rushing straight home to have hot lesbian sex with the babysitter?”
Blushing deeply, Elena smacked Vivian’s hand. “Must you be so crass?”
“Uh yes.” Vivian laughed. “Yes, I must be crass. This situation calls for it. Why aren’t you off scissoring or whatever it’s called? Do lesbians really do that?”
Elena’s blush somehow managed to deepen, creeping down her neck. She swallowed thickly. “I’m terrified to go home.”
“What do you mean?” Vivian asked. “I thought you were all fluttery and lovey and ‘oh the way she looks at me’?”
“I am! I am, yes, but Vivian, I’ve never actually dated a woman. I’ve never actually physically been with a woman either, at least, not fully. I don’t even know if Allison is gay!”
“I definitely wouldn’t rule it out.”
“She did seem awfully flustered when Alexis appeared on my doorstep,” Elena pondered, tilting her head to the side.
“Mmhm. I bet she did. Look, babe, there’s only one real way to find out, but that means you’re going to have to go home and face her.”
“I can’t just outright ask her, Viv!”
“Why not? You’ve never been one to shy away from being direct.”
“Yes, but truthfully, it’s none of my business. Would it not be inappropriate for me to ask?”
“Well, I think it would be far more out of line for you to just attack her with your mouth, Elena. Asking a question is much more appropriate, though admittedly less hot.”
Elena sighed heavily as she collapsed against the back of the couch and leaned over until her body collided with Vivian’s arm. When Vivian moved to wrap that arm around her, it drew out another, quieter sigh.
“What am I going to do?” Elena groaned.
“Oh honey. It’s just love. It’s going to be all right.”
* * *
Given the dull ache still throbbing in her purpled forehead, Allison thought she would be ready to crash after putting Lucas down, but she was wide awake. She didn’t want to make a guess as to why. In fact, she didn’t want to think on it at all, but her brain was determined. The issue kept shooting to the forefront of her mind.
Elena liked women. She like-liked women.
This one simple truth had seemingly devoured Allison’s entire soul, and she could not stop obsessing over it. Allison didn’t know why it bothered her so much that she hadn’t known about Elena’s sexuality, that she hadn’t even guessed, but it did. It bothered her beyond words, and the only possible explanation she could come up with was one she wasn’t willing to touch with a ten-foot pole.
Because in Allison’s mind, there was no way, in the history of all worlds and possibilities, that Elena Vega would ever, ever, be interested in her.
Elena was rich, like really friggin’ rich, and Allison was basically the complete opposite. Elena had an entire family that she was really close to, and Allison only had a roommate. Elena had a son. Allison was just a babysitter. Elena had class. She was poised and graceful and spoke like a fucking textbook. Allison didn’t feel like she had any of that.
She was a smart person, and she knew how to speak well, but she rarely did. Sometimes she cussed like a sailor and she hardly ever took anything seriously, whereas Elena seemed to take everything seriously. Elena had a friggin’ mansion and Allison lived in a dorm room. Elena was everything that Allison knew she would never be, so yeah. There was absolutely no way that a woman like that would ever be interested in a woman like her, not that Allison would ever approach Elena on that level. She was her employer, for starters, and what if Elena thought Allison just wanted her for her money or something? The thought alone made Allison’s stomach turn.
“And why am I even thinking about this at all?” She spoke to the empty room. “It’s not like I like her. I don’t. I mean, I’m not into her or anything. Christ, I’m talking to myself again.”
Allison took off through the house, deciding to explore a bit to keep her mind off the whole thing. The less she thought about it, the better and, apparently, the saner. There were whole portions of Elena’s house that Allison had never ventured into. There was an entire second floor she had never even been on.
She wandered from room to room, taking in all the details. Elena’s taste was impeccable. Every inch of her house was beautifully designed and decorated. It screamed style, class, and money. It somehow, though, still managed to feel homey. There was a toy box in every room and pictures scattered about the house—pictures of Elena and Lucas; pictures of Elena and some people that Allison assumed were Elena’s parents, considering the physical likenesses; pictures of Elena and Vivian; and pictures of Lucas and Vivian. Elena even had framed colorings and drawings that Lucas had obviously done. Allison felt she was not just in a giant house. She was in a giant home, and that was a nice feeling.
Allison had not experienced that feeling too often in her life. She shuffled through too many homes as a kid and never quite felt like a real part of any of them. There had never been hallways littere
d with photographs or toy chests abundant with toys. She could only remember being in two houses that felt homier than usual, one because the mother liked to bake a lot and would frequently let Allison help. Something about the scent of baked goods filling the house made it feel more like a home. The other house was one she shared with two other foster kids, and the rooms were all decorated according to themes—an Americana living room, a kitchen adorned in ceramic roosters and rooster-covered wallpaper, and a bathroom made to look like a beach, with seashells and even a lifeguard ring hanging above the toilet.
Once she had wandered around for a while, Allison came across the only open room she hadn’t yet been in. It was located at the very end of the long hallway on the second floor and was tucked just around the final corner. It was a fairly large room with custom hardwood flooring and bright white walls, and Allison was surprised to find it featured several different instruments.
No way, she thought. Was Elena a musician?
Allison carefully ran her fingers along the keys of a baby grand piano, but she quickly skipped past it to get to the part of the room that made her mouth water—a wall featuring several different acoustic guitars and even a banjo.
Pulling one of the guitars off the wall, Allison carried it over to a sleek black couch on the opposite side of the room. She sat down and plucked at a few strings, only to realize that the instrument was severely out of tune. She tuned it quickly by ear, a skill she learned while in one of her foster homes.
Although the father in that family had been a complete drunk, he’d been a pretty skilled musician. He taught her how to play guitar and even a tiny bit of piano, and she had loved playing ever since. It offered her an escape from life when her head was a mess of shitty memories or shitty circumstances, and so an old acoustic guitar was the first purchase Allison made with her first paycheck after leaving the foster system. She bought it from a lady at a garage sale for only thirty bucks, and she played the thing practically into the ground. It was the only one she had, though, and she didn’t have a lot of money to spare for a new one.
