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“That's the secret to your special 'teacher voice,'” teased Hadley.

She laughed and the sound was soft and pleasing and Florence found that her new queer heart was starting to race. A dangerous place to be. Her skin prickled with electricity. Maybe a storm was coming.

Hadley was leaning forward now, her wine glass balanced precariously on the wooden arm of her chair. Florence could see moonlight gleaming in her eyes, could almost hear her heartbeat she was so close.

Florence's mouth dried up and her stomach contracted. She didn't know what was happening. No, that wasn't true. She did know. She just didn't know what she wanted to do about it.

“Well, the secret to being me, if you want to be a little more balanced,” Hadley said. “Is that you just do what you want.”

“Really?” Florence croaked.

“Mm-hmm. It's that easy. Whatever comes into your head, you just do.” Hadley leaned a slight inch closer. “What are you thinking about doing right now?” she asked, voice huskier, deeper.

Florence's heart was racing so fast she thought it might be about to explode. She felt a heat burning all the way through her. She knew that she was being challenged. She knew that suddenly there was something unexpectedly there for the taking.

For a horrifyingly magical instant she almost took it.

But then the wind changed and she looked down at her glass and drank down what was left of the warm white wine.

“I'm thinking about going to bed,” she said, putting her glass down and standing up.

Her heart was slowing a little even as her body was screaming at her for being an idiot. But this wasn't happening, this wasn't going to work. Whatever it was that she thought was happening, she was wrong. Girls like Hadley didn't have anything to do with girls like Florence.

Girls like Hadley gave the quarterback blow jobs at the back of the bus and were homecoming queen and had loud, rollicking parties with hundreds of guests.

Florence moved, intending to go inside.

She was pulling away, escaping the magnetic force of Hadley, her breathing slowing, her brain returning to an unfogged state.

And then a hand shot out and caught her wrist.

“No,” Hadley said, pulling herself up and keeping Florence's wrist encircled by her fingers. “Maybe I didn't explain well enough. You don't just do whatever you're thinking of.”

Florence looked into her eyes, seeing darkness and light and losing her breath all over again. “You don't?”

“No,” Hadley said. “You take the craziest thing you can possibly think of to do in that moment, and then you do that.”

“Ah,” Florence said, voice trembling. “I see.”

Hadley's fingers were burning into her flesh and her pulse was pounding and her legs were weakening and Hadley was leaning forward.

“What is it?” she whispered. “What's the craziest thing you can think of to do right now, Florence?”

And then Florence was leaning in too, further and further, her body crying out in victory as slowly, inevitably, their lips touched and the world screeched to a halt.

Chapter Nineteen

Stars swam in front of her eyes. Every nerve fiber in her body tingled. Hadley dove into the kiss like she was diving for pearls, tasting every inch of Florence's mouth, wondering why she hadn't done this before, wondering how she could ever have not wanted this, ever have not experienced this.

Electricity shuddering down her spine, warmth roiling in her stomach, radiating outward until she was panting into Florence's mouth. And Florence groaned in reply. Hadley's knees almost failed her.

She wanted more, so much more. She needed to feel Florence pressed up against her but she was afraid to move, afraid of breaking the moment.

Wind shifted in the trees, the lake licked at the shore far below, and Florence tasted of wine and cinnamon, of desire and hope, and Hadley had to have more.

She shifted, raising one hand to cup the curve of Florence's waist.

Then Florence was pulling away.