Page 75 of Kissed By Her

“My sister is queer too,” Honor said. “She came out much earlier than I did, so my mom pinned all her hopes on me marrying a rich man and kind of gave up on Lark.”

“Why couldn’t she just find a rich woman to marry? There are tons of rich queer women.”

“My mom hates women. Says they’re all a bunch of backstabbers and that marrying a woman was the worst idea,” she said, shrugging one shoulder.

“Wow, I can smell the internalized misogyny from here,” I said.

Honor laughed without humor. “It all sounds awful when I say it out loud now, but at the time, I thought she was right.”

“We all think our parents are right about everything when we’re young,” I said. “It’s not your fault she raised you that way.”

“I know,” Honor said.

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but have you ever thought of going to therapy?” I asked.

“Of course, but I could never really commit to making an appointment. There are so many other people who have terrible problems. What am I going to do, sit there and whine about how my mommy taught me how to marry a rich guy and take his money?”

She made a scoffing noise and I really wanted to argue with her.

“Everyone needs some help sometimes, Honor, and just because other people have worse problems, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve help.”

She lifted one shoulder again and leaned further into me with a yawn.

“I know. Maybe it’s time to revisit that. Is that the next step in your Honor Improvement Plan?”

I snorted. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” she asked.

“No. You don’t need any improving. I’m just helping you with some of your social and relationship skills.”

Honor gave me a look. “So, improvement.”

I glared at her. “I’m going to whack you with a pillow.”

“Is that part of the program?”

I groaned and then did hit her with a pillow, but it was gentle.

“I don’t think I like this part of the program,” she said, putting her hands up to protect herself.

“I’m trying to help you be a better person!” I yelled but I was laughing.

“Aha! Youaretrying to improve me,” Honor said, and reached for a pillow, holding it up as if she was ready to attack.

I leaped off the couch and brandished the pillow at her.

“Bring it on, bitch,” I said.

Honor sat on the couch for a second and I thought she was going to tell me to stop being silly, but then she reached over and grabbed a pillow in her other hand.

“You have underestimated me, Layne Gray,” she said in a low voice.

“Oh, have I?” I said, starting to edge backwards. She might have two pillows, but this was my house and I knew the terrain better than she did.

Honor smiled slowly, a maniacal gleam in her eyes that I’d never seen before.

“You have,” she said, just before she dove at me and started pummeling me with both pillows, wind milling her arms and making me run for cover. She chased me into the bedroom as we both laughed and after a short fight that left me short of breath, I went ahead and let her win. Honor raised both pillows in victory.

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