Page 63

“Bridgette is my friend. I have zero interest in dating her.” Melinda cupped Kyle’s cheek. “Jill and I met at work. We’re friends, too, but the kind that hang out a little after a shift or on lunch. I love both of them, but I have no desire to date either of them, okay? Can you trust that?”

“Yeah, of course,” Kyle said.

“Doyouhave any friends back homeIshould be worried about?” Melinda asked with a lifted eyebrow.

“No,” Kyle replied. “My best friend is Jolie, and I have a few people I hang out with from time to time.”

“No exes in that friend circle?”

Kyle laughed and said, “No.”

“Because you know how it is with lesbians,” Melinda noted.

“I do, but no. I don’t tend to hang out with my ex-girlfriends after it’s over.”

“Me neither,” she shared.

“Are we bad lesbians?” Kyle asked.

Melinda laughed before she rested her forehead against Kyle’s shoulder and said, “No, I think we’re doing just fine.”

When the song ended, Melinda wasn’t ready to stop dancing or, really, stepping from side to side while they held on to one another.

“Want me to start it again?”

“Does that record player have a repeat option?” Melinda joked.

They danced to the song again and again, with Kyle starting it over each time before they finally pulled apart. Then, Kyle cupped Melinda’s cheek and kissed her forehead. Melinda closed her eyes and breathed her in.

“I should walk you home,” Kyle said softly. “And get me home, too.”

“Thisisyour home,” Melinda replied.

“My stuff is at the other house.”

“Let’s just stay here,” Melinda requested, pulling Kyle back in for a hug. “It’s so nice here. I don’t want to leave, Ky.”

“I like you calling me Ky,” Kyle admitted, running her hands up and down Melinda’s back now. “But this is a rental. There’s nothing here. The stuff in the fridge is what I bought earlier, and there’s nothing for breakfast or even a midnight snack. There are no toiletries or even hairbrushes.”

“You should remedy that,” Melinda replied, pulling out of the hug.

“I guess I will, then,” Kyle said with a smile. “Come on. Do you want to take a car instead?”

“No, I want to walk with you through New Orleans at night while you hold my hand,” she replied.

They packed up what they could and left things in the refrigerator for later, making sure to take the trash out before locking up. Then, Kyle took her hand, and they made their way slowly toward the café for those late-night beignets. As they walked, they talked more about Mike and her sisters. Melinda regaled her with stories from her best or funniest tours. Kyle talked about some of the stuff she’d translated into French, and Melinda cracked up when Kyle told her how she’d once had to translate a romance novel that had been written by a man. When Kyle described how he’d written the sex scenes, Melinda had laughed hysterically.

“I might have taken some liberties when I translated itbecause no one should read language like that when they’re reading a sex scene. How many times can one person put the word ‘engorged’ in the same sentence? He wrote that the woman’s breasts ‘flopped’ around. That’s not a very sexy verb.”

Arriving at the café, Melinda was glad to see that the line was actually pretty short. She ordered them the beignets and each a cup of coffee to stay, and they made their way to one of the small, circular metal tables seemingly always covered in powdered sugar. Kyle nearly managed to make it through three beignets without getting it all over her black shirt, but she laughed at something Melinda said, and it was all over from there.

“You ruined your sexy shirt,” Melinda noted, reaching forward to try to touch the spots where the sugar had landed.

“It’s served its purpose, so I’m okay with it.”

“What was its purpose?”

“To make me look half-decent on our first date,” Kyle replied.