Still, Claire couldn’t help but want something more right now. Dinner. A movie. Maybe just splitting a bottle of wine out on her covered porch, listening to the rain and talking.
But that was ridiculous.
That was . . . impossible.
“Do I want to what?” Delilah asked, taking a step closer.
Claire shook her head. “Never mind. I just—”
But then Delilah closed her umbrella and set it outside on the stoop and stepped inside. She pushed Claire’s front door closed before crowding into her space, hands on Claire’s hips and her mouth bumping up against Claire’s bottom lip as she spoke.
“I missed you,” she said.
Claire couldn’t breathe. Didn’t dare. “You did?”
Delilah nodded and then she kissed her—once, twice, soft and sweet that in no way indicated she was expecting to fall into bed immediately. In fact, this kiss, well, it felt like Delilah expected . . . something more.
Chapter Twenty-Six
DELILAH KISSED CLAIRE, then buried her face in the other woman’s neck while wrapping her arms around her waist. She inhaled her meadowy scent, the slightest tang of sweat just underneath, and felt her own heart slow down for the first time in two days.
She’d tried.
She’d tried really hard to stay away from Claire ever since Iris dropped her off at the Kaleidoscope Inn on Saturday afternoon. No texts. No calls. And definitely no goddamn impromptu stops by her house. She knew she needed a break from all the feelings this woman stirred up inside her. She’d spent the time taking photographs around town, going through her online portfolio for the Whitney show, hanging out at Stella’s last night until close to midnight, but Bright Falls wasn’t the easiest town for her to be alone in. It was quiet and still, and while there was a certain charm in the introspection it inspired, Delilah had never been very good at soul-searching.
In fact, she’d staunchly avoided it for the past twelve years.
So it was no surprise that by this morning, she was going out of her mind. She couldn’t stop thinking about Astrid and their conversation by the fire. Her entire childhood kept rolling out from where she’d kept it hidden for so long, the ways she’d neatly wrapped up Astrid’s coldness and disinterest unraveling.
But maybe even worse than all this incessant thinking was this want. This pull toward Claire was getting absurd. And it wasn’t only about sleeping with her again. Delilah simply wanted to see her, talk to her. Kiss her gorgeous mouth, sure, but even just standing right here in her foyer felt like diving into a cool lake after a walk through the desert.
“Are you okay?” Claire asked, settling her arms around Delilah’s shoulders, hands drifting into her hair.
Delilah nodded, face still pressed to her neck. But the truth was, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t feel okay. She felt small and desperate, a little kid in need of a hug.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Claire said.
Delilah finally lifted her head. “I said I was fine.”
Claire tilted her head. “And I call bullshit.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Delilah felt a small smile work its way onto her mouth. That Claire Sutherland could tell when she was bullshitting her—and what’s more, seemed to actually care—suddenly felt like a small miracle.
“Let’s go do something,” Delilah said, pulling Claire closer, hands sliding down her backside. She kissed her, just once.
“Like . . . go out?”
“Yeah.” Kiss. “Like go out.” Kiss.
Claire laughed. “Where?”
Delilah grinned, an idea springing into her head. She knew Claire wanted to keep their relationship under wraps for now. If she let herself, Delilah could get very moody about the whole thing again, but she just wanted to have fun tonight.
She wanted to take the woman she liked out on a date, plain and simple.
“A place,” she said, kissing Claire one more time, “where I can hold your hand.”
* * *
“ROLLER SKATING?”
Claire laughed, her hands flying to her mouth as Delilah pulled Claire’s Prius into the Sparkles parking lot. The roller rink was in Graydon, a town about twenty-five minutes east of Bright Falls, so there was very little chance of anyone they knew seeing them. Delilah remembered a couple of birthday parties here when she was in elementary school, before her father died and birthday parties were a thing she did like a normal kid.
“Roller skating,” she said, getting out of the car and flipping up her ruffled umbrella, then jogging around to the passenger side to open Claire’s door for her.
Claire raised her eyebrows at her as she stepped out, the rain and the neon lights from the rink’s signage reflected in her glasses. After Delilah had suggested going out, she’d changed into a pair of jeans and a slouchy off-the-shoulder T-shirt, and brushed out her messy hair, which now flowed around her shoulders in soft waves.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Let the record state that I’m gallant as shit,” Delilah said.
Claire laughed. “I feel very wooed.”
Then Delilah slipped her fingers between Claire’s and they ran inside while the rain continued to pour down, like two teenagers on a first date. That’s a little how Delilah felt as well—giddy and just . . . happy. It was a strange thing, to feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time. It made her realize how much she’d missed it, how important the sensation was. For years, she’d been getting by, mistaking physical closeness with someone for a night as actual happiness. But holding Claire’s hand right now, sneaking glances at her and watching Claire light up in response, this was something altogether different.
Delilah paid and they got their skates, storing their shoes in little cubbies along the carpeted floor. The shiny wooden rink glimmered under a disco ball, colored lights flashed, and eighties music moved all the skaters along as though on a river.
“I haven’t done this in forever,” Claire said, laughing as she stepped onto the rink.
“Me either,” Delilah said, still holding on to Claire’s hand, which turned out to be a mistake. Because when Claire wobbled, so did Delilah. And when the wobbling turned into full-on flailing, both women went down in a flourish of swear words and a tangle of limbs.
“Ow,” Claire said, rubbing her ass as tweens and teenagers flew past them and laughed.
“God, it’s high school all over again,” Delilah said, but she was smiling. She managed to get to her knees, then her feet, pulling Claire up with her. “Okay, let’s take this slowly.”