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be a match for the era of the couch if it had been made in the

seventies like some reproduction antiques were. It was a match

in length.

Why am I focusing on that?

She knew the answer. It was because it was easier to look at

the table than it was to look at Dani. To be dazzled by her

unique form of beauty. Emily was afraid that if she looked at

Dani, she’d do something she couldn’t control. She wasn’t

drunk, but her head was warm, and she felt nicely buzzed. Not

in a lose your inhibitions or become unrealistic kind of way.

“I should probably go to sleep,” Emily said. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah,” Dani agreed. “Me too.”

Neither of them moved. Emily looked at Dani again,

drinking in the features of her face, remarking to herself at

how strong and delicate they were in turns. Her lips were

remarkably full, and Emily no longer knew if the blood red

hue was due to the wine or the lipstick that should have worn

off long ago.

There was something about Dani that lured Emily in. Was

she just another hapless moth, a buzzing insect heading

towards doom? Dani had a fire in her, Emily could sense that,

but she wasn’t a fire. She wouldn’t incinerate Emily until she

was nothing more than ashes and a will that had been broken.

That wasn’t Dani. Emily instinctively sensed she could trust

Dani not to hurt her.

“Okay,” she breathed, and stretched out slowly, lifting her

arms above her head like a cat.

“Okay,” Dani agreed. And then she offered the softest of

smiles. On Dani, it was as beautiful as that sunset on the beach

had been. As wonderful as her kiss. Emily couldn’t stop