Page 81 of The Forbidden Fling

“Of course I don’t mind.”

The answer was so quick and so sure, emotion swelled inside Faye again. To stop herself from opening her big mouth and declaring something too big for the shower cubicle, she slipped off her garment, moving it away with the flick of her toe.

She looked down at herself, completely bare, her skin-toned bag snug to her abdomen. She didn’t want to look at Diana. What if she saw something, a flicker of uncertainty—or worse, disgust—that burst this entire bubble?

She closed her eyes. The blackness soothed her, the hiss of water filling her ears. Another voice joined the cacophony in her head. Stop assuming.

Her overactive brain loved to fill in the blanks with worst-case scenarios, but those assumptions were draining, exhausting, and usually wrong. Even if Diana was repulsed by her, Faye deserved to know. She had nothing to apologise for. She wasn’t about to start hiding again. Not for anyone, even Diana.

She felt hands on her, guiding her into the stream of water. A snap of a bottle opening and a squirt, then the return of hands, firm and gentle as Diana lathered body wash over her, starting with her shoulders.

She opened her eyes to find Diana washing her with such fondness and care, it almost floored her.

“You’re beautiful,” Diana said, her gaze flicking to Faye’s as she caressed her bicep, drawing her fingers down her forearm.

“Thank you.” She swallowed, an unease creeping into her throat—because it was strange to actually feel beautiful for once. “You are too. I told you that when I first met you, and I think it every day. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, Diana.”

Diana’s fingers stilled on Faye’s wrist, just for a millisecond, but Faye caught it. The hesitation. Did Diana not believe it? Faye wanted to tell her every single day. To kiss her, to love her, and—God, she was going to say something really stupid if she didn’t change the subject.

“So is it just Backstreet Boys you like?” she blurted. “Or is it all boy bands?”

Amusement crinkled Diana’s eyes, and she burst into laughter. That pure, magical laughter that made Faye feel like she was standing on mountain tops.

Diana caught some water in her hand and began washing the soapy suds off Faye’s arms. “I might have a soft spot for some of the classics. Boyzone, NSYNC, Five, Backstreet Boys—”

“Sounds like you were a lot of a fan. A bit of a groupie.”

She gave a small shrug. “I might’ve queued outside HMV for twelve hours to get a signed copy of Millennium.”

“No way.” She pictured a teenage Diana fangirling, and the grin hurt her face. This new information flipped a switch.

She wanted this. Uncovering guilty pleasures, hearing Diana sing in the shower, spending mornings and evenings and any time in between with someone who made her feel the best version of herself.

She wanted Diana.

All fear of rejection drained away. Standing in front of Diana, laying herself bare, she’d never felt more sure of herself. The distance would be tricky, but Faye wasn’t rooted anywhere. She could compromise. It was worth it to take a chance on this.

Their gazes locked, and confirmation flared through her veins.

“Diana, I—”

A quick banging noise made them both swivel their heads. Was that Diana’s door?

“Hello?” a familiar high-pitched voice called out as the front door opened.

Faye stiffened. Shit. Molly.

A little detail she’d forgotten—along with locking the door.

“Oh, Christ.” Diana stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. “Just a minute!” she called, her voice squeakier than usual. She turned back to Faye. “Just…stay there.” She flipped the shower off, threw Faye a towel, then scampered out of the bathroom.

Holy fuck. Faye’s heart jumped into her throat. She wrapped the towel around herself and stepped onto the shower mat, glancing around. Of course there was nowhere to hide. Who designs hidden compartments in a bathroom? There was a window, but even if Faye could manoeuvre herself through the tiny hole without detaching her bag or flashing a bunch of strangers, the sound of her attempted escape would most definitely draw Molly’s attention. The best thing was to stay put.

Water dripped down her spine, and she pulled the towel tighter around herself. What is Molly doing here?

What if she came to use Diana’s shower because her bathroom had flooded? Maybe that could be Faye’s excuse for being over here so early in the morning? Or maybe she should stage a fall in case she came in? Or maybe she could drape Diana’s robe over herself and become the world’s best human statue in the corner?

Oh god. I don’t know!