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be a match for the era of the couch if it had been made in the
seventies like some reproduction antiques were. It was a match
in length.
Why am I focusing on that?
She knew the answer. It was because it was easier to look at
the table than it was to look at Dani. To be dazzled by her
unique form of beauty. Emily was afraid that if she looked at
Dani, she’d do something she couldn’t control. She wasn’t
drunk, but her head was warm, and she felt nicely buzzed. Not
in a lose your inhibitions or become unrealistic kind of way.
“I should probably go to sleep,” Emily said. “I’m tired.”
“Yeah,” Dani agreed. “Me too.”
Neither of them moved. Emily looked at Dani again,
drinking in the features of her face, remarking to herself at
how strong and delicate they were in turns. Her lips were
remarkably full, and Emily no longer knew if the blood red
hue was due to the wine or the lipstick that should have worn
off long ago.
There was something about Dani that lured Emily in. Was
she just another hapless moth, a buzzing insect heading
towards doom? Dani had a fire in her, Emily could sense that,
but she wasn’t a fire. She wouldn’t incinerate Emily until she
was nothing more than ashes and a will that had been broken.
That wasn’t Dani. Emily instinctively sensed she could trust
Dani not to hurt her.
“Okay,” she breathed, and stretched out slowly, lifting her
arms above her head like a cat.
“Okay,” Dani agreed. And then she offered the softest of
smiles. On Dani, it was as beautiful as that sunset on the beach
had been. As wonderful as her kiss. Emily couldn’t stop
