Page 114 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls

And soon, the fingers there clenched and faltered. “Skye, I need you.”

On instinct, she grasped Celene’s hips chasing harder pressure. Though she’d bedded her enough times now to know what that ‘need’ entailed. Nothing brought out Celene’s pleasure like giving pleasure.

Skye lucked out, by far.

She stepped her knees to pose herself over Celene’s face. Skye barely offered her raspy, muffled, “have me” before Celene pulled her down and satisfied her need, mouth hotly suctioning. Skye settled fully, and they fell into what she could only describe as a spell of heaving, quivering mutual gratification.

The erratic canting of Celene’s hips let Skye know she’d hit her limit. Skye kept up with the pace in thirst for all she tasted,her tongue straining and flicking against wetness until the body beneath her quavered and Celene hoarsely cried for all that was holy.

“Beautiful,” was all Skye could get out, running her hungry mouth on the soft skin of either thigh. There was no way she’d leave without every trace of Celene not a part of her.

And she’d hold onto that feeling.

A vibratinginterrupted Skye’s meandering dream of kisses and lips grazing her shoulder. She patted the side table. It could be Thalia, ringing her with more ideas about the self-made gallery tonight. Though her phone lay still, unmoving.

“Hello?” Celene answered on her side of the bed, clearing her throat first.

The rawness as she spoke steeped Skye in pride until it all changed.

“What, when?” she went on, her naked spine now taut and upright. “Well, where is he?”

Skye frowned as she sat up. Her awareness spiked when Celene uttered, “God. Okay. I’ll be at the hospital in...” Celene set her phone aside and took in a deep, purposeful breath. It seemed like a private moment, like Skye had happened upon a sacred practice. Celene raised the phone back to her ear. “About four hours. I’ll pack now.”

Shuffling closer, Skye slid a hand to Celene’s back, on the clasp of the silver necklace. “What happened?”

Celene’s sigh was one of layers—stress, worry, and if Skye weren’t mistaken, a little annoyance. “That was Elise. My dad collapsed.”

29

Three hours and forty-two minutes later, Celene collected her visitor’s badge, hands shaky in the hospital’s chilly air.

With urgency contrasting the stillness that settles in these white, sterile wings, Celene’s footsteps clicked past personnel in pastel scrubs, much more deliberate in her pace.

For the majority of her drive, something bugged Celene. Like a speck from the wind, too tiny to see, less painful when one blinked the right way. Then it’d float to the cornea, and she’d wipe and search with watery eyes. It’d been one of her final interactions with Skye.

While Celene had folded her clothes into their packing cubes, maybe more forcefully than necessary as she’d slipped into distress. But Skye had picked up on it, crouching next to her. Celene remembered continuing as if she weren’t there, brain churning out scenarios: her father’s exact diagnosis, long-term issues, Shanice’s mental health, and hardened family conflict. Had Elise been downplaying or exaggerating over the phone? Why the fuck couldn’t she trust her sister’s word?

Then, Skye placed a hand on Celene’s arm. And Celene quaked beneath the touch, ashamed of...being concerned?

The normal act of a daughter worried about her fatherembarrassedher.

“Should I go with you?” Skye had asked, warm in her loose top, eyes unsure. “I can move my schedule around or ask Zander to train the new associate at Luce’s. I could?—”

“Thalia’s art show’s tonight. Your parents are visiting,” Celene reminded her. Tears threatened to sting her eyes, so she tightened up, focusing on her tasks in their proper order. Of all the times Skye could meet the Vales, it couldn’t be now. Not at a low point.

Not when Skye could be seen as a crutch, like Celene needed a girlfriend to survive these uncertain moments.

Skye stared. Celene could feel it, reducing herself to deflection. Getting dressed and brushing her hair to do anything but feel.

“They’ll all understand if I’m helping you,” Skye tried again. “I don’t need to pack much.”

“It’ll be fine. You deserve a better introduction to my family.”

“Dragonfruit.”

And that was when Celene flinched. Because their reality word had never been used like that. Combatively. Like a gotcha.

So, Celene didn’t say it back. Instead, she lectured about the proper steps to shut down the house, and Skye brought out her phone to take everything down. Eager to get it all right. It teased a soft sigh out of Celene because Skye loved her, truly.