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Faith played awkwardly with the strap of her bag. There were literally no words in her head. Nathalie was so calm and collected. And hot. Liz interrupted Faith’s internal meltdown, placing her to-go cup on the bar.

“Here,” Nathalie began, sliding over the sugar and cream. “Pour a good glug of cream in and add a couple spoons of sugar. It makes all the difference.”

Faith watched Nathalie scoop in three large spoons of sugar and a dash of cream. Curious, Faith added both condiments, gave it a stir and took a tentative sip. “Oh wow, that’s so much better!”

“Yup! I couldn’t let you go without knowing the joys of a good, okay, semi-decent cup of coffee.”

“Um, thanks Nathalie.” Popping the lid on her cup, Faith cradled it to her body. Would it be weird if she kept the empty container forever? Probably, but at least she’d have something that reminded her of this wonderful woman. “I really have to go.” And with that, she hurried out of the diner and towards the bus station.

Faith stood in line waiting for the driver to allow the passengers to board. Once again, she wouldn’t complete the journey to her ticketed destination, she would hop off before.

Choosing the back seat this time, Faith settled down. This leg of the journey would take longer than the first. Knowing she needed to catch up on some much-needed sleep, Faith set the alarm on her watch.

Resting her head against the back of her seat, Faith allowed herself to indulge in the memory that was Nathalie’s lovely face. She wondered what Nathalie’s story was. Where she’d come from and where she was going? The comment about liking open-minded women played at the forefront of Faith’s mind. Did it mean Nathalie liked women?

A smile trickled across her face as she pondered Nathalie. Could she dare to believe that one day she could have a Nathalie of her own? A woman who was beautiful and interesting? The thoughts left her a little breathless. Thank God her parents couldn’t read her mind.

Faith was twelve when she first realized that boys held about as much appeal as contracting scabies. The girls in their Sunday best were the ones who stole her attention. Faith quickly learnedthat her feelings were not to be divulged to anyone within the church community. It took one innocent question about girls liking girls and Faith had found out how angry her father could get. Safe to say, Faith never brought up the subject again.

Any fantasies she had of living her truth had been firmly put to one side until she was sure she could be safe—far away from her parents. The knowledge that Alan and Maureen would know she’d left was niggling. Faith replayed her every move, making sure she’d covered her tracks well enough.

Flashes of Nathalie smiling helped quell her fears. No matter what, Faith would be free. A sliver of regret settled in her stomach. If she’d just had the confidence, she could have asked Nathalie for her email or something. Would Nathalie have thought she was nuts?

Chuckling at her internal monologue, Faith calmed her mind. Falling into slumber thinking of Nathalie was a much better option than worrying about her parents.

Faith jolted awake as her watch beeped repeatedly. The dream she was ripped from was an unfamiliar experience. Something that made her clench her thighs together. The dream had been so vivid, she wouldn’t have been surprised to learn she’d been writhing around on her seat.

“Wowzer,” she muttered to herself as she straightened her clothes. Clearing her throat, she took a long pull of water she’d packed in her bag. Craning to see out the window, she noticed the bus approaching the station where she planned to get off.

Giving herself a little pep talk, Faith steeled herself to repeat her earlier actions. She’d be doing it for a while yet and even though changing buses was already tedious, she knew it had to be done.

“Eyes on the prize” was her mantra. She could rest when she got to Seattle. In Seattle she could be herself with the one person who knew what it was like to be gay and a part of the Parsons family.

Faith just hoped that she had the right address. She also hoped that her aunt Molly would welcome her. It had taken months of stealthy trips to the library to find out about her aunt. There was no trace of her existence in the family home. Her parents only ever uttered the woman’s name once. That one time caused so much anger, Faith feared her mother would be beaten within an inch of her life.

Alan Parsons was not a man to cross. Obviously, Maureen had been ordered to never speak of Molly, Alan’s sister. Ever. Faith wasn’t sure what caused her mother to disobey, but one thing’s for sure, after the whooping Alan gave her, Maureen never spoke the name again.

Faith’s natural curiosity won out and after a few weeks, she’d begun the search for her elusive aunt. The library—which she could only visit for half an hour, once a week—wielded a treasure trove of information.

Molly Parsons was two years younger than Alan. She’d been a pillar of the community and the church until her seventeenth birthday. Then, Molly had simply disappeared.

The mystery of Molly plagued Faith. A gut feeling told her she needed to find out about her aunt. That gut feeling had led her to do some perilous things; such as rifling through her father’s office and closet.

It was worth it though, because Faith found what she was looking for. That’s when finding Molly Parsons became Faith’s number one priority. However, as she sat draining the last drops of Nathalie-inspired coffee, Faith’s head was far from focused on finding her aunt. Nathalie’s eyes swam in her mind. Gosh, she was simply lovely. Yes, she was definitely keeping the cup.

Chapter 2

Carmen

Carmen stood by the kitchen counter, rubbing her eyes and scratching her ass. God she hated mornings, especially after a late night looking after Mateo. That man could party like he was still twenty-one.

“Coffee, that’s all I fucking asked for. Coffee! Did I get coffee? Of course not,” she grumbled to herself.

Why she’d believed Mateo when he’d promised breakfast and coffee in bed last night was anyone’s guess. That man was flakier than pastry. “You always fall for it, Carmen. Always. ‘Come on Carm, just stay out a little longer. I swear I’ll treat you like a queen in the morning with coffee and breakfast,’ yeah right.”

“Chica, are you talking to yourself again? It’s not right, we need to get you a woman.” Mateo called from the living room.

Carmen ground her teeth. Not only did her best friend fail to deliver on his promises, he also woke up fresh as a daisy, unlike Carmen, who felt like death warmed up. The universe was a cruel mistress. Mateo had been the one to sink tequila shot after tequila shot. “He’s your best friend, you can’t kill him,” she continued to grumble.