“I see.”

  “But I thought maybe you could see if she’s okay.”

  I blinked at my niece. Chewed my Twizzler. Sat there without saying anything.

  “Would you do that?”

  “Do what?” Yes. Play dumb, Morgan. That always works.

  Brittany tipped her head to the side and arched a brow at me. “See if she’s okay? She’s your friend, right?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. She was, wasn’t she? My friend still? Maybe she didn’t think so, but despite my all-over-the-damn-place emotions, I cared about Zoe very much. Loved her. And if something was bothering her enough that it was noticeable to acquaintances, maybe I should check on her.

  I promised Brittany I’d touch base with Zoe and waved as she headed off to meet some friends for an early happy hour. Then I spent the remaining two hours of my workday freaking out just a bit about the idea of seeing Zoe.

  Maybe I could just text her. Or call.

  Coward.

  I sighed at that inner voice accusing me of being less than brave.

  When Diane was getting ready to head out, she dropped a couple of files on my desk. “When do we get more drug samples?” she asked. “’Cause I’ve gone over a week with no surprise doughnuts or sandwiches, and frankly, I’m a little sick of it.” She grinned to make sure I understood she was teasing. “Can’t you call your pharma rep friend and tell her I need pastries, or I’ll become unbearable?”

  “Become?” I asked and Diane barked a laugh and pointed at me.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  Perry was taking care of his emails in his office, Joanne was gone, and with Diane taking her leave, there was only me left. I hadn’t gotten much done, but I reveled in the quiet of closing time. Brittany’s assessment of Zoe had stuck with me, made a little nest inside my heart and settled in, and the idea of her being not herself was more than I could bear.

  I took in a big lungful of air and held it for the count of seven, then let it out very, very slowly. I always felt better after I did that, like it centered me somehow.

  “Okay,” I said aloud in the empty office. “Decision made.”

  I would go see her. I wouldn’t stay. Just knock on her door, assess her myself, since I thought I knew her a little better than Brittany did, and see if I also thought she seemed off.

  What I would do after that, I had no idea. Zero.

  Nerves starting to uncurl and jangle against my bones, I locked up the office and headed out to my car where it sat in the parking lot next to Perry’s BMW. The sky had gotten darker and the thunder closer. I reached for my door handle, and when my car beeped the signal that it had unlocked, I glanced up.

  There was one other car sitting in the lot, way over in the corner, about ten spots from mine, the driver inside and looking my way. My heart began to pound.

  Zoe.

  It was like an invisible tether connected us, and neither of us looked away for what felt like a really long time. Probably only a few seconds, but it was intense. I felt like she was looking right into my soul. When her car door opened, I jolted into action. I threw my stuff into my own car, slammed the door, and took steps in her direction. Neither of us hurried. In fact, we each walked almost comically slowly, strolling, until we met in the middle, several spots away from each of our cars. Two women, standing in the middle of an almost empty parking lot, thunder rumbling. I felt a tiny splatter of wet on my face. The rain was coming.

  “Hi,” she said, and I was relieved she spoke first.

  “Hey.” There was a lump in my throat all of a sudden—nerves? concern? fear?—and I tried to swallow it down. “It’s good to see you,” I said softly, and it was. Good God, it so was. I knew I’d missed her. I knew I’d felt lost without her. But those things were amplified a hundred times by actually seeing her in the flesh. I wanted so badly to reach out and touch her, but I balled my hands into fists and kept them by my sides.

  “How are you?” she asked, those blue eyes dark, boring into me like she was trying to find the answer herself inside my head.

  Miserable. Awful. Crushed. Ate an entire bag of Cheetos for dinner last night and chased it with half a bottle of merlot. They all ran through my brain.

  “Hanging in there, I guess,” is what came out instead, and I added a shrug to make my point. But as I looked at Zoe, I realized that Brittany was right. She was not herself. There were dark circles under her beautiful eyes, and those cheekbones were nowhere to be found. Her shoulders slumped slightly, as if she was carrying some invisible heavy thing, and she just looked really tired overall. I was instantly worried about her. “How are you?”

  That’s when her eyes welled up, and she looked away, and all I wanted to do was take her in my arms. Her throat moved as she swallowed, and I lifted my arms a bit, as if my body wanted to wrap her up regardless of my brain telling me to stand down and assess the situation. When she looked back at me, there was such anguish on her face that I felt my eyes widen in surprise. “I miss you so much,” she whispered, and I was done.

  Fuck this.

  I stepped forward and pulled her into a hug as my eyes filled with tears. “I miss you, too,” I said in her ear as a gentle rain started to fall. I felt her arms around me, her hands on my back, grasping my shirt, and one tiny hiccup of a sob escaped.

  “I’m sorry,” she said a minute or two later when she’d lifted her head from my shoulder to look in my eyes.

  I held her face, wiped her tears with my thumbs. “For what? I’m the one who’s sorry. I should’ve told you right away about the poems. I was an idiot.” The rain fell a little harder, but it was warm, and I had no intention of letting Zoe out of my personal space just yet.

  “I’m sorry I was so hard on you.” Again, she looked away as if trying to find her words in the falling rain. “I talked to Perry a couple days ago.”

  Okay, that was a surprise. “You did?”

  “He called me.”

  “He did.” After I’d specifically asked him to leave it alone.

  “Don’t be mad at him,” Zoe said, as if reading my mind. “He was worried about you, and he felt bad. He explained that he was terrible with words—which is very true, I can attest to that—and he’d always bugged you until you gave in and helped him. He said he realized pretty early on that you…I think he said had a thing for me.” She made air quotes and I rolled my eyes.

  “Eloquent as ever.” But I felt the smallest bit lighter and motioned for her to go on.

  “He said he should’ve stepped aside, but he didn’t, and then after his ego took a beating, his pride got in the way.”

  “He told you all of this? I mean, my brother’s a decent guy, but this is shockingly self-aware for him.”

  “He did. He felt terrible, said you were miserable, and he felt responsible.”

  “Wow.”

  “So, we talked a lot, and I came to some realizations with his help. After my mom and my ex and what I went through with each of them, I have…” She took a deep breath, toyed with my collar, and I wondered if this was hard for her to say out loud. “I have some problems with trust.”

  I thought for a moment about just how accurate Stefan had been before I said, “That makes total sense. I would, too.”

  “When I realized that morning what had happened with the poetry and that I’d been left in the dark about it, I acted instinctually. Walls flew up before I even realized they were about to. Putting an end to us seemed to be the best course of action for the safety of my heart, but I was already…” She looked down at her sandaled feet, the wet of the asphalt.

  I wondered if she could hear my heart hammering in my chest, because to me, it seemed louder than the rain. “You were already what?”

  Zoe avoided meeting my eyes for several beats, both of us pretty wet by then, and I wondered how it was possible that she could be even more beautiful while standing in the pouring rain in soggy clothes and flattened hair. When she finally looked up at me, the open, naked vulnerability on her face took my breath away. Literally stopped my lungs from functioning for a moment.

  “I was already so in love with you.” She whispered it, and I read her lips more than I heard her voice, the pattering of the rain on the pavement almost drowning her out. But those words. Her words. They shot straight into me, directly into my heart, evicting even the tiniest element of doubt, and they grew. Her words grew until they filled me completely. I felt myself stand up a little straighter, lift my chin, as if I was actually growing with the knowledge of how Zoe felt about me.

  The pavement, the rain, the fact that we were standing in a parking lot. None of it mattered. “Oh, Zoe.” I smoothed her wet hair off her face. “I love you, too. So much.”

  Kissing in the rain is the most sensual of experiences, let me just tell you. We were drenched, our hair and faces soaked, our clothes wet through. But I kissed Zoe Blake with everything I had in me, and if I could’ve stood in that parking lot in the pouring rain with her mouth on mine for the rest of time, I would’ve done it without question. I poured every emotion I had into that kiss. My hope, my fear, my worry, and my love. So much love. More than I’d even realized before my lips met hers. It was like our entire future together was solidified in that one rain-soaked kiss. Zoe deepened it, pressed her tongue into my mouth as she grabbed at my body in what felt like desperation, trying to pull me closer even though our bodies were nearly fused together from knees to mouths.

  I couldn’t get enough.

  “I love you, Morgan,” she mumbled between kisses, and I couldn’t get enough of that either.

  I pulled back from her just enough to look into those blue eyes. “I don’t know where you came from, but I’m never letting you go. Just know that.”

  “Right back atcha,” she said, and I pulled her into a hug, wrapped my arms around her neck, and could have sworn I felt our hearts meld right there as we stood on the pavement pressed against each other.

  The rain fell.

  The thunder rumbled.

  We held on.

  “Do you think the rain knows?” she asked softly after a moment.

  I pulled back to see her face and squinted my confusion.

  “Like your poem. Do you think the rain knows how we feel?”

  My body filled with warmth at the realization that she remembered my poem. I nodded as I looked up, let the raindrops pelt my face. “I do. I think it knows everything.”

  “I reread the poems that you wrote for Perry. You really saw me like that? That early on?”

  “It was killing me to think of you and him,” I said honestly. Her face brightened, even in the gloom of the rain, and I stood up a little straighter, feeling that fleeting confidence come back to me like a power surge.

  She pulled me into her arms again. Over her shoulder, I caught a glimpse of the office building, of my brother standing in the window, watching, a huge smile on his face.

  He gave me a small wave, then spun the long stick that closed the miniblinds.

  Epilogue

  Snow didn’t really start that year until December. We got an inch or two here and there a couple times in late November, but it wasn’t until mid-December that we felt it. A storm hit and dropped nearly ten inches on us, and suddenly, just like that, it was winter.

  I hate winter. I’ll be completely upfront with that. I have always preferred to spend my winters inside. Give me a good book or movie, a warm fire and a blanket, a cappuccino or a glass of wine depending on the time of day, and I’m good until spring.

  But I was with Zoe now.

  And Zoe didn’t do winter inside. Oh no. She was a let’s-hit-the-slopes, let’s-get-snowshoes, let’s-go-sledding kind of girl, and I somehow did not see that coming.

  So the last Saturday before Christmas, I found myself at the top of an enormous hill, surrounded by Zoe, Brittany, Brittany’s new boyfriend Marcus, Perry, and Jennifer Zimmerman, who’d ended up being the perfect match for my brother after all. I was glad she’d stuck around. The six of us stood there watching people of various ages shrieking as they shot down the hill, which, after so much sled traffic, looked way more icy than snowy.

  “We’re gonna fly,” Perry said with barely contained glee.

  “Exactly what I’m afraid of,” I muttered. Only Zoe heard me, and she leaned close. Her knit hat was the color of oatmeal with a jolly red pom-pom on the top. Rosy cheeks and a red nose made her adorable. And then she smiled, and her eyes sparkled, and her cheekbones popped, and in an instant, she went from adorable to downright sexy. I still had no idea how she made that switch so fast, but she did it all the time, and I loved it.

  “I won’t let you die,” she said with a wink that made my toes tingle. I must have looked dubious because she bumped me with her shoulder and added, “Trust me.”

  Brittany and Marcus had zero fear. “Let’s do it. We can fit.” Brittany set a toboggan down. It was sleek and wooden and was just long enough for four people. She got on first, fit her legs up under the front part of the toboggan that curled up and back, and held the rope that was meant for steering, but I had my doubts about it helping with any accuracy if they careened toward a tree. Marcus got behind her, then Jennifer, then Perry until they made a human train. Zoe and I watched—her smiling, me wide-eyed—as Brittany shouted back to Perry, “Push, Uncle Perry!”

  Perry used his gloved hands and shoved the sled forward. It only took three pushes before they were off, shooting down the hill like a rocket, past people that had already gone and were climbing up for another trip. Before they reached the bottom, Zoe dropped our toboggan flat onto the snow.

  “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  Zoe directed me to sit up front. I did, situated my booted feet up under the front curve, held the useless rope, and wished for it to be over quickly. I mean, it wasn’t like I’d never been sledding—I grew up in upstate New York, for Christ’s sake—but I’d never really enjoyed it. However, when Zoe sat behind me, moved her legs around me, and I felt her body push up against my back, I started to think maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. Even with all the layers we wore, I swore I could feel her body heat, and my own trying to match hers. Sitting there with Zoe all tight against me already made sledding infinitely better than I remembered.

  “I’ve got you,” she whispered in my ear, and then without warning, she shoved us off. I might have yelped like a surprised little girl.

  Within the first three seconds, I realized I was exactly right about the hill being icy, and I thought about people on the luge in the Olympics, flying down those twisty, turny runs, and I was certain we were going at least that fast. I was also right about the rope, which did nothing but give me something to clench with my gloved hands in a death grip.

  Colors flew by. I think they were people. People in coats and hats. But all I saw were colors. Pops here. Pops there. And then we were past them before I could register what or who they were. I didn’t realize how tightly I was holding on for dear life until my hand started to cramp around the stupid rope. But we were going to make it. We were almost there…

  And then the lump happened.

  I didn’t know where it came from or how it got where it was, but it was a good-sized lump of snow, and our toboggan hit it dead-on.

  Now, I’m sure we didn’t fly far. But we flew. Sideways. There was a little-girl scream that I’m embarrassed to say was probably mine. We landed, and snow flew, and then we stopped in a pile of arms and legs and white. Snow everywhere. In my boots, down the back of my coat, in my face. I lay on my back, breathing heavily, watching the vapor my breath created float away above me. My arms were splayed out to either side. Zoe was laying across me. She lifted her head, and the joy in her eyes was so apparent, I couldn’t help but smile, even though I tried to look annoyed as I recited an on-the-spot poem.

  “Roses are red. Winter is snowy. When she tells you she’s got you, don’t listen to Zoe.”

  She snorted a laugh as she pushed herself up on her hands and looked down at me. “You okay?”

  “You said you wouldn’t let me die. I trusted you.”

  “And I didn’t let you die.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Zoe dutifully began poking and prodding me, and when she pushed on my stomach, I groaned. “Yes, I’m a hundred percent sure you’re still alive.”

  “I hate winter,” I said, and yes, I admit I was a little bit whiny.

  And then Zoe’s face took up my entire view as she leaned over, looked down at me, and said, “But you love me.”

  There was no denying that, not even a little. “I do.”

  She pecked me on the lips before I could say any more, then stood up and held a gloved hand down to me. “Come on, we’ve got time for a couple more runs before we have to be at your mom’s. I bet she’s making something amazing for dinner.”

  I took her hand, let her pull me to my feet, and we trudged up the hill together. Did I want to do a couple more runs? No. No, I did not. Would I follow Zoe anytime, anywhere without question? Abso-fucking-lutely.

  At the top, we waited for a few sledders who’d set up ahead of us to go, my family included. Then Zoe flopped down our toboggan, held it in place with one boot, and looked at me with those gorgeous blue eyes. I could feel myself fall into the depths of them just like I did every single time she looked at me like that, like I was the only person in her world.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  To spend the rest of my life with her? I couldn’t wait. “Ready.” I sat down again, scrunched up my legs again, felt her body tight against me again. “You got me?” I asked.

  “Always,” came her reply, and she gave my hips a squeeze with her knees. “I love you.”

  And right then? With Zoe behind me, looking out for me? I felt like—no, I knew—I could do anything.

  “I love you, too. Let’s go.”

  Zoe pushed us off, and we headed downhill and into the rest of our lives.

  Together.

  Always together.

  About the Author

  Georgia Beers is an award-winning author of nearly thirty lesbian romance novels. She resides in upstate New York with her dog and cat, a wide array of plants, and at least the desire to learn how to cook. When not writing, she watches too much TV, explores the world of wine, and dutifully participates in spin class. She is currently hard at work on her next book. You can visit her and find out more at georgiabeers.com

 

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