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She may not have needed kissy love.

But she fucking wanted it.

Franny dressed up for poker on Thursday. Not too much, but it would be the first time she’d seen Jade in a place where she couldn’t avoid her since their kiss, and she desperately wanted to… well, impress her, if she were being honest.

The other woman had run out of her house so quickly, she’d left no impression that she felt anything other than regret for what had happened. But Franny had been there. She’d felt Jade’s lips as they moved against hers, the beating of her heart, the way her skin heated. Hell, she’d come away from it all with a wet spot on her pants that she hadn’t put there.

It wasn’t as if Franny had expected the kiss to turn the tide on their relationship. Especially not after Jade had reacted to it the way she had. If anything, she’d thought that Jade might just carry onlike everything was normal and not acknowledge that it very much was not. Instead, she’d taken to giving Franny the silent treatment. A week of practices and they’d exchanged fewer than five sentences. Jade had even gone so far as to keep as wide a berth as possible. Anytime Franny happened to move close to her, Jade would suddenly find a need to be clear on the other side of the field. It was ridiculous. It was childish. And it was maddening.

Jade Dunn could pretend all she wanted that she was unaffected by her, but Franny knew the truth. The want was mutual. There may have been other things in the way, but that foundational fact was enough to stoke the hope that had started to live in Franny’s heart.

Which is why she entered Landry’s basement in a short-sleeved, patterned button-down shirt, open just enough to show off her collarbones and the thin gold chain she wore. The shirt was half tucked into a pair of Dickies pants that were cuffed just above her Vans. She let her hair hang freely this time, no makeup or anything, but about a hundred nervous swipes of ChapStick across her lips.

She’d seen the way Jade looked at her every time she wore a shirt like this, and she wanted the other woman absolutely salivating under the dim basement lights.

Only… Jade refused to look at her. She was quieter than usual all around, only speaking when spoken to, as the dealer—Landry—doled out their cards and got the game started.

Franny had a hard time focusing on anything other than the woman across from her. She caught every single one of Jade’s micro-expressions, but she wasn’t looking for tells or tics that would help her win the game or show her prowess. Instead, she was looking for something, anything, that would prove Jade was just as affected by Franny as Franny was by her.

Jade gave her less than nothing. She wore a baseball cap that was pulled down so far that it was nearly impossible to see her eyes. Herbody shifted in her chair quite often, and Franny could see that her knee was bouncing under the table.

She fought hard not to reach her foot out to still Jade’s leg or get her attention. She wasn’t prepared for the rejection she might face if she did.

By the time they had a small break for the bathroom and snacks, Franny couldn’t have given less of a fuck about the fact that she was nowhere close to winning tonight.

She exchanged a few words with Jeremy Bell about the possibility of having dinner with him and his wife sometime soon. Her response was kind but distracted, and she had to mumble out a quick excuse to walk away the second she spotted Jade alone at the snack table.

“Are you going to avoid me all night?” Franny used all her willpower to keep her voice low and her tone even.

“Are you out of your mind?” Jade was apparently more in the mood to whisper-yell in her direction. “We are not doing this here.”

“Where are we supposed to do it, then? It’s not like you’ll speak to me anywhere else.”

“So what? You want everybody to know about this?”

“About what, Jade?” Franny knew she was being obstinate, but so what? She figured it was her turn anyway. “You keep saying there’s nothing here but then turn around and avoid me like there is.”

“Just keep your damn voice down. And I’m not avoiding you,” Jade mumbled, keeping her attention on spreading some chicken salad on a cracker. “I just have nothing to say.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit,” Franny argued. “You sure had plenty to say the other day.”

Finally, Jade looked up at her, a small sneer on her face. “Oh, you mean when I realized I’d rather be kissing a wooden post than you.”

Franny snorted, her heart thundering. “You are so full of shit. You know just as well as I do that you were fucking gagging for it.”

“Gagging for it to be over, more like,” Jade snarled.

Franny leaned down until her mouth was at the shell of Jade’s ear. “All it would have taken was my fingers under those pants and you would probably still be in my bed right now.”

Jade turned her head with a sharp intake of breath. Whatever she was gearing up to say was interrupted by the sharp crack of two hands slapping together. Landry was calling them back to the table. Jade brushed past her without a word.

Franny sniffed, her attitude on ten as she shoved herself back in her seat to continue the game.

The rest of the night passed in a distracted haze. Franny felt like heat was rolling off both her and Jade, the anger making them sloppy. Bad bets, even worse calls. Franny had started with a decent hand but had still managed to lose every cent she’d put in the pot. In the end, it was Coach Byrd, the head of Greenbelt track and field, who had taken the pot.

But she couldn’t find it in herself to care. By the time the night was over, all she wanted to do was go home and fall into a bottle of bourbon. The group was exchanging jokes and banter, all casual jabs. Then Landry and Byrd came back from the cashbox with the latter’s winnings, and $400 was all it took for the man to turn into an asshole.

“We let you ladies win once,” Byrd said, laughter coloring his tone, “but the boys are back now, baby.”