Page 74 of Get Over It, April Evans

“Are you ready for a swim?” April asked as she pulled Daphne onto the tiny beach and released her hand.

Daphne’s brows lifted. “We don’t have bathing suits.”

April laughed. “I believe skinny-dipping was on your list, was it not?”

Daphne’s eyes grew round. “Skinny-dipping.” Her gaze dropped down to April’s mouth, and April felt her own face redden. She didn’t blush easily, but right now, with the wordskinny-dippingfloating between them, coupled with thedanceand thekissand all thehand-holdingof the evening, heat pooled into her cheeks.

And a few other places.

She shook that off, though, and focused on the actual task.

“We need to clean up anyway,” she said, but then felt her stomach plummet as Daphne continued to stand there looking uncertain. “Only if you want to, of course.”

Daphne shifted her feet in the sand, her mouth slightly parted.

And April felt ridiculous.

Because thiswasridiculous. A super blue blood moon at all the wrong times, in all the wrong ways, which didn’t even make sense, but that was how April suddenly felt. Not embarrassed, necessarily. Just…unaligned.

Out of place in the sky.

“Never mind,” she said, shaking her head. “This was silly. We can just—”

“No, wait,” Daphne said, her hand on April’s arm. She squeezed once before letting go and then pulling off her dress in one fell swoop.

All of April’s breath left her lungs.

Daphne’s hair settled around her bare shoulders, the straps of a yellow—though maybe it was white, as it was hard to tell in the dim light—bralette still arching over her collarbones. And they were lovely collarbones. Elegant and spotted with dried paint, dipping in the middle right where Daphne’s throat moved as she swallowed. April had always had a bit of a thing for collarbones, and Daphne’s were perfect.

As was everything about her, really. April tried not to stare, she really did, but they’d already kissed, already pressed their bodies together in ways she never did with anyone she wasn’t about to sleep with, so now, actually seeing her like this was…

It was a super blue blood moon.

And Daphne hovered in the sky, letting April look at her as much as she wanted—the way the cotton of her bralette rounded over her small breasts, the softness of her stomach, the mismatched blue underwear, one side hitched up a little higher on her hip than the other.

April didn’t dare move her eyes lower—couldn’t, or she might really lose her shit.

And goddess, there were so many reasons not to. For starters, Daphne was eight years younger than April. Secondly,hugely, she was Daphne fucking Love. She’d been April’s silent ghost for so long now, a haunting. A myth, or even a legend. Anything but flesh and blood.

Thirdly…there had to be a third reason, right? And probably a fourth, at the very least. But right now, as they stood in MirrorCove together, Daphne was so real, and so beautiful, and so sweet, that all those reasons flew right out of April’s head.

“Your turn,” Daphne said, tilting her head a little, a tiny smile on her full lips.

April blinked, her stomach now catapulting into her throat, a blush spreading past her cheeks and over her chest. This was her idea, dammit. She’d gotten naked with practical strangers before, she could certainly strip down to her undies.

She shucked her pants down her legs, fighting her feet out of them by stomping in the sand.

Daphne laughed but went silent when April’s fingers went to her top. Because they both knew—Daphnehadto know, right?—that April wasn’t wearing a bra. Her top was off the shoulder, nary a strap in sight. Granted, it was dark, but the moon was also pretty damn bright. Her hands trembled a little, but she kept her eyes on Daphne, whose expression was unreadable.

April did it fast.

Whipped the top over her head, let it drop into the sand.

Daphne’s mouth parted, eyes dropping down quickly before lifting back up to April’s face.

“Beautiful,” she said.

And that was it.