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Zuri poured the egg, herb, and mushroom mixture into a pan and took her time washing her hands. Marisol’s heart raced harder every second that passed.

When she turned to her, Zuri’s expression was dark and unreadable. But the way she craned her head forward just a little, just enough to highlight the cleavage visible from her V-neck, made Marisol stop breathing.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not…” She dropped her gaze to Marisol’s lips before floating back to her eyes. “Friends.”

Heart caught in a chaotic dance of desire and uncertainty, Marisol drifted toward her. Images of Zuri straddling Elena’s lap made her pulse thrum, drawing Marisol closer. Attention fixed on Zuri’s lips, she wondered what would have happened if she’d slipped in behind Zuri. If she’d turned her head toward Zuri and kissed her with Elena’s mouth still on her chest.

Desire roared in her body, making her reckless. Could she really believe Elena? That she wasn’t under some kind of spell? If someone would have told her last week that the strangest thing to happen to her wasnotbeing attracted to two women at once—women who had not only dated in the past, but had obvious lingering feelings for each other—she wouldn’t have believed it.

Pulse rattling against her ribcage, Marisol wanted to know whether Zuri really was attracted to her too. Whether she’d evertaste her full lips the way she had Elena’s. Whether this much decadence and indulgence was possible.

And then Zuri was turning around, saying something about burnt omelets and salt. Marisol’s brain snapped back from the fantasy. Elena was right about one thing, she thought while tearing her eyes away from Zuri’s ass with way too much effort. Every being attracted to women had to be attracted to Zuri.

She’s so different from Elena, Marisol thought, her mind racing along with her heart.Elena is all sharp edges and seductive darkness. Zuri is… earthy, grounded, a force of nature.

There was no doubt in Marisol’s mind that she was in over her head. Violently out of her depth. But despite treading water, she couldn’t stop wanting to know what existed a little further outside her comfort zone.

When the food was ready, they helped Elena join them around the small table. Feeding, as she called it, hadn’t helped her physical condition, but her energy was better than it had been in the hospital. In clean clothes and a familiar environment, she appeared more in control. More like the woman in the expensive suit Marisol had cut off her body.

“Sleeping arrangements,” Zuri said after taking a bite of the best omelet Marisol had tasted in her life. “We should?—”

“Do you have a hole for me to crawl into?” Elena crossed her arms across her chest, a single brow arched.

The air around them tensed, though Marisol couldn’t guess why. Zuri looked up from her plate, glare pointed at Elena.

“Did you think I was going to leave the windows covered forever?” Zuri’s body was tense, her words sharp.

Marisol’s gaze shifted between them, filling in the blanks. The small house was half-covered in glass like a greenhouse. At sunrise, there wouldn’t be a single part not bathed in sunlight.

“Is that true, then?” Marisol took a gulp of water. “You can’t be in the sun?”

Tension easing, Elena looked at her and nodded. “I won’t burst into flames,” she promised. “At my age, it’s more like it drains my energy. After prolonged exposure, my ability to regenerate would stop and?—”

“And she’d die a rather slow, painful death,” Zuri finished, as if to say that had been her plan when she’d designed the place. Tension returned like a belt snapping. “The linen closet,” she added after a beat, attention on Elena unwavering. “It’s windowless.”

For interminable seconds, Elena’s face was unmoving. Her unblinking gaze was so focused, so intense, that Marisol was sure that Elena was going to lunge at Zuri fangs first. And then she quirked her brow, amusement playing on the corner of her lips. “Back in the closet, Z?” She put her palm to her chest. “How cruel.”

Marisol unclenched all the muscles she’d tightened and all but released a cleansing breath. She’d never get used to these two. They were like two great nations slamming into each other on a battlefield.

“We could all share that nice big bed of yours,” Elena suggested like Zuri hadn’t kinda threatened her a moment earlier. “If we snuggle in close there’s definitely room for three.”

“No, we don’t have to,” Marisol started to object.

“Don’t worry, Bambi. Those armchair cushions and blankets make a very comfortable bed?—”

“For a puppy maybe,” Elena cut in before Marisol could respond.

“I’m fine on the floor,” Marisol said before Elena could make things more awkward than they already were.

“Of course you are. What are you, twenty? You’ve never thrown your back out opening the trunk too fast. You’re?—”

“I’m thirty-one,” she corrected.

Zuri looked at her like she didn’t believe her.

“I’d love to show you my ID, but it’s not like I had a chance to grab my bag,” Marisol shot back, a little too much bass in her tone.

Elena laughed, copper eyes bright. “Bambi bites.”