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“I’ll meet you at your apartment.” Fallon canted her head to the side, her dark hair falling over her shoulder in gentle waves.
Savannah bit the inside of her cheek, trying to convince herself that this wasn’t a dream, that this damn gorgeous woman wasn’t coming over to her apartment, hadn’t invited herself over, hadn’t just pushed her way beyond that boundary line. And that Savannah hadn’t so willingly let her come.
“Savannah.” The sound of her name on Fallon’s lips was music to her ears. “I wasn’t sure if you were prepared for guests, so I wanted to give you time.”
“What?” Frowning, Savannah looked deeply into Fallon’s eyes. What had she just said or even implied?
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to get to your apartment before me. To clean up, or get ready. I know you weren’t anticipating a guest tonight.”
“Oh.” How considerate and odd. Savannah furrowed her brow and nodded slowly. “Yeah, thank you.”
Her apartment wasn’t a mess, but that was only because Brinley had been gone for days and Savannah had gone into a nervous deep clean before she’d gotten dressed that night. Thank God for that.
“Did you want to leave now?” Fallon curled her fingers around the edge of the table.
Savannah pressed her lips together, eyeing the lines of Fallon’s body. The way her fingers were smooth and thin, the small hairs on her arm, the freckles that dotted her skin every now and then. She moved her gaze upward, over Fallon’s exposed collarbone, the sharpness of her jaw, the fullness of her lips, the pointedness of her nose.
“Savannah?” Fallon asked, again that tether dragging Savannah back to reality.
“No, I don’t need to leave now.”
Fallon’s smile was bright—brighter than Savannah had ever seen it before. Was this what true beauty was? Was this what Savannah had been longing to find since well before her divorce? The only thing she could think of was how she wanted to see that smile again, in every situation possible.
Unfortunately, the waiter came back, handing the card back over to Fallon. She quickly signed and pulled her purse over her shoulder, standing immediately. That was the sign if Savannah knew it. Mimicking Fallon, Savannah stood up, at least a head and a half shorter than Fallon with those heels on. But instead of feeling inferior, she felt exactly on the same level.
Fallon held her hand out, letting Savannah walk in front of her. Conscious of the way the dress clung to her tighter than when she’d bought it, Savannah had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep on walking and not feel the heat in her cheeks that she knew was there from embarrassment. She was with a drop-dead gorgeous woman, and no one would ever think twice about her.
When they reached the sidewalk, Fallon touched Savannah’s arm lightly. “I’ll meet you there.”
Savannah nodded, her voice completely lost.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine,” she managed to get out.
Fallon’s lips pulled upward again, her eyes lit brightly as she bent down to get closer to Savannah in the light rain that fell on their shoulders and in their hair. Savannah’s breath caught in her throat.
Fallon whispered, “Perfect.”
seven
Fallon had lied.
When she’d told Athena she wasn’t interested in anything beyond mere friendship, she had flat-out lied. Because she was. Otherwise she wouldn’t have found herself at Savannah’s apartment, sitting on her couch while Savannah puttered in the kitchen, making her a drink.
The apartment was warm in ways that Fallon’s wasn’t. There were obvious signs of Brinley, though everything had been put away in its proper place. Not that Fallon really cared about that, but she would care if someone had come to her apartment unexpectedly and seen the disaster that was there on a good day. Organized and put together at work didn’t mean she was the same in her own apartment.
Eventually, the nerves became too much, and Fallon stood up and made her way to the small galley kitchen. Leaning against the doorway she looked Savannah over. The dress was a bit too short when Savannah bent down to grab something on a bottom shelf, and the black fabric rode up high on her thigh and teased the edge of her ass. Fallon couldn’t stop the quirk of her lips as she raked her gaze over Savannah’s body.
“Need any help?” Fallon’s voice carried through the small kitchen.
Savannah jerked with a start, as if she hadn’t noticed Fallon coming into the kitchen to begin with. Savannah slowly straightened, tugging the edge of her dress down over that very creamy and delicious thigh. Fallon flicked her gaze directly to Savannah’s eyes and let all that arousal pool into the look.
“Uh… no. Wasn’t I supposed to make you the drink of my choice?”
“You were.” Fallon wanted desperately to walk forward and pin Savannah against the counter, press their mouths together, and see just what could happen. But she held still, not quite sure where they stood yet and knowing that they hadn’t discussed arrangements.
Because if there was one thing Fallon understood and Savannah didn’t, it was that relationships were off the table.
