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Bren looked from my face to the cup and back again.

“I don’t drink tea,” she said.

Undeterred, I kept holding it out to her. I’d set it down, but then there was a chance it would spill on her things and I’d feel horrible about that.

“It’s really good, I promise. You’ll like it.”

Bren let out another sigh, this one tinged with more irritation, but she reached out one hand and took the cup from me.

“You promise I’ll like it? That’s bold. What if I hate it?” she asked, the cup suspended a few inches in front of her mouth.

“You won’t,” I said with more confidence than I felt.

Bren raised one dark eyebrow and then sipped the tea. I could hear Ellie and Archer talking to customers at our table, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Bren as she carefully sipped and swallowed, her elegant throat working. For a moment, I entertained the thought of licking that throat. Of sucking on it until it was covered in marks from me.

It was a really good thing that Bren couldn’t read my scandalous thoughts. No doubt she’d be horrified.

Bren’s eyes narrowed as she considered the tea before she let out yet another sigh. Those seemed to be her response of choice.

“It’s fine,” she said, but that probably meant it was delicious. Bren seemed like the kind of person who would deny that she liked anything.

“Great. If you want any more, you know where I am.” I wanted to say something else, but I just kind of smiled at her and then Ellie got my attention to help with a customer who wanted to buy some candles.

I turned away from Bren, but I could feel her eyes on my back. Good thing she couldn’t see me blushing.

It wasa huge relief to pack everything up at the marketplace for the week and return home.

Technically, I still lived with my parents on the farm, but in my own apartment that was on the second floor of the barn. It gave me privacy, but still let me see everyone whenever I wanted or needed.

The quiet that greeted me after I came back from having dinner with the family made the tension in my body instantly evaporate. I moved around the space, lighting one of my many candles. I’d formulated this particular scent myself and it was a blood orange and tonka mix that I was obsessed with. There were some parts of my job that I absolutely loved and helping make the scent blends for our candles was one of them. It had been a family decision, but I’d really gotten into it and had totally thrown myself into smelling a million things when we’d been ordering test scents.

My apartment was cozy and filled with all the things I loved: pictures of my siblings and of the farm, bright warm rugs, my watercolors, and a ton of bee items. You’d think that having an apiary would mean I’d be sick of bees, but I wasn’t. Having them around in any form made me happy. Jumbled stacks and piles of books were everywhere, which I thought made the place cozier.

The one place that I kept scrupulously organized was my desk. I had a gorgeous desktop monitor and my favorite pens and a cute little ceramic bee lamp that I’d bought at a yard sale five years ago.

In addition to managing things at the market, I did all of the work on the website, handled a lot of the customer service and business email account, shipping, and a million other things.

Doing anything that required brain power or math was out of the question right now, and I’d learned that the hard way. Monday I’d be up bright and early to tackle a few website updates and emails, but for right now, my brain needed a break, so I logged into my social media accounts and saw a message from one of my favorite people.

Why do happy people piss me off so much?

I laughed and typed out a quick response.

Because your heart is full of darkness and shadows.

Her response was quick.Ohhh, isn’t that poetic? It makes me sound deep and not like a total bitch.

I snorted.Don’t worry. I know you’re still a bitch.

I’d met my friend @Bibliofile about a year ago on a fanfic site. We’d found each other in the comments of several fics and I’d loved her observations. From there, we’d followed each other on social media and had started sending each other links to new fics we thought the other might like. Pretty soon we were talking about everything from the logistics of time travel, to sharing our favorite soup recipes (I was more of a cook than she was), to which member of The L Word cast we’d fuck, marry, kill. I knew we were going to be friends for a long time when we both said to kill Jenny, in spite of her already being dead.

I would want to resurrect her via necromancy and then kill her againshe’d said.

One rule we’d made for each other early on: no personal details. Other than her age, her gender, and the fact that she was a lesbian, I didn’t know where she lived, other than in the US. Sure, I’d read between the lines of her message and gleaned that she was probably in the same time zone and probably in New England. But there was an allure to the mystery for some reason. Not sharing many details had been her idea at first, and I’d thought it was because she was hiding something. That could still be the case, but after all this time of talking to her nearly all day, every day, I think I was safe in saying that Iknewher.

And she knew me.

I’m watching it againshe sent.