Page 43 of Glass Spinner

“Thanks for today,” Kathleen said, her voice quiet in the stillness of the car. “It was—” She trailed off, fiddling with the clasp on her seatbelt.

“Perfect,” Marise finished for her. “Yeah. It really was.”

They looked at each other. Neither moved.

Marise pushed her door open, pausing with one hand on the frame. “I’m not ready to call it a night. Do you want to come up for dinner?” she asked casually. “I’ve got a decent bottle of wine and we could order in a take-away.”

Kathleen hesitated. It wasn’t a long pause, but Marise saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes. Before she could pull back, Marise said softly. “No pressure. It’ll be a friendly dinner. You don’t even have to pretend to be charming.”

That earned a faint, nervous smile. “I’m not sure I ever manage to be charming.”

Marise took a step closer and murmured, “You really don’t know how attractive you are.”

Kathleen blushed to the tips of her ears and nodded. “I’ll come up.”

Marise led her through the foyer to the lifts. They were silent on the way up, and when it slid open at the thirty-third floor, she said with a smile. “I’m down the hall.” She led her to her door and slipped in the key.

Kathleen strolled into the living room, taking in the quiet luxury and the view of the city skyline through the glass window. “This is nice,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I expected.”

Marise slipped off her jacket and walked into the kitchen. “It’s a nice place, but hotel rooms can be lonely.” She pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses. She poured the wine, passed one to Kathleen and raised hers. “To tipping kayaks and not drowning.”

Kathleen laughed quietly. “To the rookery.”

They sipped. The silence stretched again—but not uncomfortably. Marise watched her over the rim of her glass. The sun had left Kathleen’s skin faintly pink on her neck, freckles more vivid than usual.

“You’re easier with me now,” Marise said quietly.

Kathleen’s eyes flicked to hers, then away. She set her glass down. “I like your touch. Which is a bit odd because I have a problem with intimacy.,” she said, her voice low and unsure. “It’s not easy for me. It never has been.”

Marise stepped forward, close enough that she could see the uneven breath rising in Kathleen’s chest. She cupped her cheek, waited a beat, then kissed her softly and slowly, giving Kathleen every chance to stop her.

She didn’t.

When they parted, Kathleen drew in a breath like she was bracing herself.

Marise didn’t move. “Okay?”

“I don’t want to keep freezing or panicking,” Kathleen said, the words tumbling out now. “I want to learn. How to be close to someone. I want you to teach me.”

There was no seduction in her voice. Just truth and a little desperation.

Marise exhaled slowly, letting go of the need to be clever or in control. “Then we’ll take it one step at a time,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind Kathleen’s ear. “No rush. No expectations.”

Kathleen nodded. Her eyes were wet, but she didn’t look away. “Please...don’t give up on me if I get it wrong.”

“I won’t,” Marise whispered, pressing another kiss to her temple. “I’ve got you.”

“I know you have.”

“Have you—” Marise hesitated, then plunged on. “Have you ever had sex with anyone?”

Kathleen hesitated then mumbled, “Three times…with men.”

“Did you like it?”

Kathleen shook her head vehemently. “No.”

“Did they hurt you?”