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Was it any wonder that her first crush had been on this woman?
She couldn’t believe she was in Jos’ house, standing right across from her, drinking in the vision that she was, the smell of fresh toast and salty butter reaching her nose.
But it was really happening. Maybe after years and years, Eden hadn’t quite let go of all her idol worship. Maybe a seed of it stayed rooted inside her, because she was suddenly breathless.
Jos’ eyes settled on her, those sapphires cutting in, chipping away at Eden until she felt naked and exposed. She did nothing with that sharp gaze except keep it pinned on Eden while she slid a plate with perfectly golden toast along the island.
Of course she makes perfect toast. Everything she does has to be perfect.
Jos rolled her shoulders back and walked around the island. She got closer and closer, and Eden’s breath hitched. Her lungs felt like they were going to blow up, but still, she couldn’t breathe in or out. She was a statue, burning on the spot. When Jos reached out, Eden’s heart leapt into her throat. She braced for her touch. What would it be like if she touched her? Not a hand under the shoulder or around the waist, but really touched her?
Instead, Jos took the clothes from Eden’s grip. “I’ll wash these. Eat that toast, please. You have two more glasses of water to drink before you go to bed.”
Eden groaned.
“You’ll thank me in the morning.”
Jos took the clothes and stalked off, her hips swaying naturally, and Eden was transfixed. All the things she’d thought she knew about Jos Frank were stripped down in a single night. Or maybe she was just having trouble controlling her base emotions. Jos was still a sell out. She still had this big, fancy house. She still wasn’t a real journalist anymore. She’d lost her way. She’d lost touch.
Maybe Eden just didn’t care as much. Maybe it was hard to dig down and find your principles and dislikes and reasons against or for anything when a person’s head was a mess and whisky and water were still fighting for purchase.
That was it. That was all it was.
Eden sunk down hard onto one of the square, chrome and white barstools at the island. She took a bit of the toast and nearly groaned at how good it was. It somehow tasted better than anything she’d ever tasted in her life.
Chapter 6
Jos
What exactly am I supposed to do with her?
Jos knew what she should do. She should put Eden to bed in her guest room and forget about her until morning, when she would call a cab and send her on her way. She really should send her on her way now. She was in much better shape and no doubt could recall her address if Jos pressed. Oddly enough, she didn’t want to press or send Eden anywhere.
She threw Eden’s clothes in the washing machine, along with a few of her own items to make a full load, added soap, and twisted the dial to start everything. She walked away, taking slow, measured steps back to the kitchen.
She found Eden standing by the island, her empty plate behind her, the stool pushed back in.
“You look tired.” It wasn’t true. Eden didn’t look anything less than alive. Her dark eyes sparked like twin fires. It wasn’t just the whisky responsible for it. She had strange eyes. Eyes that were alive and saw too much. Soft eyes in a beautiful face.
There was an ache in Jos’ chest, an empty spot that she didn’t recognize. When she looked Eden right in the eye it was like she was seeing it and it was magnified a thousand times, so glaring that Jos couldn’t ignore it.
“I am. I guess.” Eden glanced around the kitchen, and Jos breathed a sigh of relief. She’d never had any trouble looking anyone in the eye. Not ever. “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave?” she asked, catching Jos’ gaze again.
It was back, those flames erupting over every inch of Jos’ skin, something like hunger tightening her belly. “No. That would be more trouble than it’s worth. I have three extra bedrooms. I won’t even notice you’re here.”
Eden’s lips curled up. She could read straight through that, and that terrified Jos. “Okay. Thank you. Can you show me where to go?”
Jos started walking. She thought putting more space between them and fleeing was the answer, but it felt like Eden’s eyes were chasing her through the house, burning through her back. She felt stripped naked, strangely vulnerable, and she did not like it. She couldn’t just run and hide. She hadn’t done that since she was a little girl, and she’d promised herself that she would never do it again.
She stopped in front of the guestroom after going up a set of stairs and down the hall. She flicked on the light and stepped away, not wanting to be trapped in the same space with Eden. Which was silly, because they were in the same house at the moment. The same city. The same country was already too much.
Jos felt her throat close up and she wondered what the heck was happening. Eden stepped past her and took in the room. It couldn’t be more than anything she was used to, having grown up with rich parents.
“Wow,” she breathed. “This is nice.” Her smile was like a sucker punch. “But you do know there are other colors on the spectrum other than white. Everything is white.”
“That’s not true,” Jos muttered. “Black and chrome are thrown into the mix.”
Eden hesitated. Jos knew she should run. She could feel the heaviness of the moment, sense the way the air shifted like a storm was about to roll in. She braced without knowing what she was bracing for. “Can I ask you something?”
