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“Well? Do I pass inspection?” I said, executing a little pose, sticking my leg out so it showed.

Tenley rolled her eyes. “Come on.”

“Wow, rude,” I said, walking into her house. The inside was…completely unexpected. I’d thought everything would be boring and beige and tasteless, but I saw mismatched furniture that looked like she rescued it from a thrift store. There was a mix of vintage pieces with odd colors like mustard and cobalt and emerald and dusty pink with darker woods, but the result wasn’t stifling, it felt…cozy.

The floorplan was modern, with an open concept, but each area was defined by clever furniture and art placement.

“Oh,” I said, looking into the living room. In addition to a cheery brick fireplace there were books. So many fucking books. Floor to ceiling books. Books on tables. Books in cabinets. Books stacked on the coffee table.

“Do you, um, read a lot?” I asked, gesturing.

Tenley rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Obviously.”

Ignoring her, I headed for the shelves to see just what she had. You could tell so much about a person by what was on their bookshelves.

I grabbed one book at random and pulled it off the shelf.

“Oh,” I said for a different reason when I read the title. It was a writing craft book about erotica.

I held it up so Tenley could see the front of it.

“Give me that,” she said, snatching the book away from me and jamming it back on the shelf. “You’re not here to judge my books, you’re here to practice making my boyfriend jealous.”

“Isn’t he your ex-boyfriend?” I asked, wanting to yank another book to piss her off.

“If we’re going to do this, you’re going to have to stop saying shit like that,” Tenley said, pointing her finger at me. For the first time since I’d walked in, I took note of her outfit instead of the inside of the house.

She wore stonewashed wide-leg jeans and a cropped logo sweatshirt with gold earrings and her hair in a low bun. Casual, but still like she’d put in some effort. Her chunky off-white sneakers were just a little too clean.

Her lips were glossy and pink, and I stared at them for a beat too long.

“What?” I asked.

Tenley snapped her fingers at me. “Focus. We’re going to have to act like we’re together in like an hour and this isn’t going to cut it.” She gestured at the space between us.

My mouth was suddenly dry, and I wished I had some water or something. I licked my lips instead.

“Okay,” I said. “What did you have in mind?”

“We’re going to have to be in each other’s space,” she said, stepping closer to me. “Just, uh, pretend I’m a really hot guy.”

I swallowed hard. “Right. A hot guy.” Because I was straight. Straighty McStraightlady. No lesbians here, no ma’am.

Realizing we were getting nowhere, I took the initiative and fully entered her space. I’d always been aware that Tenley was a few inches taller than me, but now it was apparent as I looked up into her face.

“Are those lash extensions?” I asked, my voice hitching. It was a crime how pretty she was, even this close. Shit, where was she hiding her pores?

“Yes,” she said, audibly swallowing.

“They’re good,” I said. “I mean, they don’t look too aggressive or fake.”

“Thank you,” she said and then jumped as I put my hand on her waist.

“Sorry. Should have warned you,” I said.

“No, it’s okay,” she said. “We both need to get used to it.”

I’d touched a few women’s waists in my day, but for some reason being with Tenley made me feel brand new. Fresh from the closet, scared to make eye contact with a gorgeous woman. I hadn’t felt this way in a while. I hadn’t gone wild in college, but I’d had my fair share of experiences after denying myself for so long.