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“Moms?”
Zann nodded. “Yeah. They met in a convent just outside Malaga, Spain, and—”
The melancholy in Lydia’s expression faded, replaced by surprised interest as she interrupted, “Hold up. Your moms are nuns?”
It was a reaction Zann was more than used to, and she laughed as she corrected her, “Sisters, my godmother would insist, because nuns are cloistered, and they weren’t.”
“How does that even work?” Lydia asked, looking adorable in her confusion.
Zann chuckled. “Well, you see, when two women meet and fall in love…”
Lydia smacked her lightly on the shoulder. “Not that, you smartass.”
“I mean, that is how it started, but…” Zann kissed the tip of her nose. “As they tell it, it was love at first sight. Mamá was working late on the thesis for her master’s when Amá walked into the abbey’s medieval library with, as she tells it, a smile brighter than all the brass lamps combined. They tried to fight it, to find a way to balance their feelings while upholding their vows, but their connection was just too big, too pure, too strong to ignore. So they went to the abbess, explained their situation, and, after a period of discernment, were granted dispensation to leave.”
“That’s… Shit. And the abbess was cool with them being gay?”
“She was very supportive. Still is, actually.” Zann smiled as she thought of her godmother, Suzanne, in her office at the abbey, surrounded by books older than the ancient city below, with a mug of steaming tea at her elbow and one of the many cats sleeping on the corner of her desk. “I guess it helped that they hadn’t taken final vows yet. She went above and beyond, though, wrote letters of recommendation when they applied for jobs and further studies, called friends at the university to clarify that they were still dear members of the congregation, that sort of thing. This was decades ago, remember, so leaving the way they did created a buzz. But Amá said it died down after they continued to attend Mass at the abbey and the abbess made sure to greet them warmly a few times. They still go when they can.”
“Wow.”
“Mm.” Zann nuzzled her cheek as she shared, “My moms named me after her, and she’s my godmother.”
“Your godmother is a nun?”
“Is there anyone better suited to the role than a woman of God?”
“Okay, that’s a fair point,” Lydia conceded. “But wow.” She took a deep breath and let it go slowly. “Where are they now? Your moms, I mean?”
“They have a little house outside Malaga on the beach. They both teach at a university in the city—my mamá heads the faculty of theology, and my amá teaches physics—”
“Physics?”
Zann sniggered at Lydia’s surprise. “Particle physics, to be exact. She used to do some occasional consulting at CERN.”
“Holy shit.” Lydia’s eyes widened. “I mean—”
Zann laughed. “No, that’s about right,” she assured her. “But yeah. Amá loves to walk on the beach at sunrise and sunset—she says it’s her way to ‘commune with the universe’—and whenever I go home, we spend hours just walking the coastline, catching up on everything.”
Lydia’s arms wrapped tighter around her neck as she whispered, “That’s nice.”
“Yeah.” Zann smoothed her hands over Lydia’s back. “It is.”
“I’d love to be able to walk on the beach like that every day.”
Zann’s heart squeezed at the wistfulness in Lydia’s tone. “I admire your commitment to your family’s company, but you deserve a life that fulfills you in the quiet moments, too.” She dragged her nose along the side of Lydia’s. “If it were up to me, you’d spend every single night unwinding just like this.” Her heart skipped a beat at the way Lydia’s breath caught and her eyes fluttered, and, for a moment, she was afraid she’d said too much. Confessed too much. Because this wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. Their situation didn’t allow it. No matter how much she was beginning to realize that she wanted it to. “I’m sorry, that was—”
“Everything,” Lydia exhaled.
Zann bit the inside of her lip as she watched Lydia’s face contort as if she was fighting tears, and she looked so beautifully fragile that Zann was overcome with an urge to storm TAG’s offices and shout down every single person who had ever made her feel like what she wanted didn’t matter. “Lydia…”
Lydia sniffed and lifted her chin beseechingly. “Please kiss me.”
Zann shivered at the feeling of Lydia’s fingers carding through her hair, gently urging her closer, and she gave up the battle against keeping her eyes open as Lydia’s lips brushed against her own. She wrapped her arms around Lydia’s waist and pulled her flush against her as their lips melted against each other’s. Her heart swooped and dipped when Lydia mewled and sucked against her lip, and she slid her right hand up along her spine to spread her fingers between her shoulder blades and crush their chests together as Lydia’s lips opened for her with a sigh of pure surrender.
She moaned at the first slow slide of Lydia’s tongue against hers, and slid her hand from Lydia’s upper back to cradle her jaw as she angled her head to invite her deeper. Heat pooled low in her belly as Lydia took all that she offered and gave just as much in return, and the world around them ceased to exist as that second kiss gave way to a third, fourth, fifth. Each kiss somehow managed to be more bewitchingly tender than the last, and by the time their kisses slowed to a string of lingering pecks, her eyes stung from the sheer perfection of it all.
She’d never expected to find this. To feel like this.
