“Fuck, you’ve got nice tits,” she breathed.
She’d said it last night, too, but it felt more real now. Erin believed it now. Cassie’s hands cupped her, squeezing more gently than Erin would’ve liked, but before she could instruct her any differently, Cassie’s lips were on her. She rolled one nipple between her thumb and forefinger and sucked the other into her mouth.
Erin tried not to gasp. “Fuck.”
“Glad you wore a shirt this time,” Cassie said, but the words were muffled from the way she didn’t take her mouth off Erin’s skin to say them. “Easier access.”
“I thought you’d appreciate it,” Erin said before she thought better of it.
Cassie bit down, and Erin’s head dropped back, thumping into the mirror. Cassie swirled her tongue gently, her hand coming up to cradle the back of Erin’s head.
Erin hadn’t meant to say anything. She hadn’t meant to tip her hand quite so obviously. Now Cassie knew this wasn’t so much something that just happened as it was something Erin had thought about.
Maybe this had been inevitable from the moment Erin had decided to wear a shirt instead of a dress. Maybe it had been inevitable from the moment Cassie had started flirting this morning.
Cassie marked her. Erin hadn’t had a hickey since well before the divorce, but Cassie was leaving them now. Sucking and biting and soothing the sting with her tongue. She had enough sense to keep her mouth low, only on skin that would be covered when Erin put her shirt back on.
Erin got a hand in Cassie’s hair. The braid came out of its elastic, and Erin threaded her fingers through the loose ponytail. When Cassie sucked a hickey too high on Erin’s chest, Erin tugged. Cassie moaned, and Erin swore she felt it on her clit.
One of Cassie’s hands had worked its way between Erin’s ass and the counter. She slid it around to the button on Erin’s jeans. Erin caught Cassie’s wrist and kissed along her jaw.
“We’re not doing that.” She sucked right beneath Cassie’s ear, considered leaving marks of her own.
“Erin—” Cassie broke off as Erin bit at the tendon standing out on her neck.
Erin had to stop. She had to get her mouth off Cassie’s skin while she still could. She took a deep breath and pressed their foreheads together.
“I’m serious,” she said with her eyes closed. “We should get back.”
Cassie bumped her nose against Erin’s. “I thought we weren’t worrying about what we should and shouldn’t do.”
Erin laughed, gently enough that it was mostly breath. She pulled back. Cassie’s pupils were blown wide. Her lips were swollen, her hair sex-mussed. Erin wanted to mess it up further. She thought about her kid instead.
“You’ve got to point out the girl Parker has a crush on, remember?”
Mentioning Parker did its job. Cassie stepped back.
“I’ll leave first?” she said.
Erin chuckled as she slid herself off the counter. “Just tell me if anyone’s out there.”
Erin put her bra back on as Cassie fixed her ponytail. Purpling welts covered Erin’s chest, a map of everywhere Cassie’s mouth had been. Seeing them in the mirror made Erin clench.
When they were presentable again, Cassie kissed her instead of checking the hallway.
“Where are you staying?”
Erin could’ve told her. It could’ve been that easy.
But there was letting yourself have what you wanted, and then there was hedonism.
She kissed Cassie one last time. “Let’s go.”
That was it. This could never happen again.
They slipped into their seats right before The BarBelles came on, having missed the entire third group. Cassie gestured to a girl with more stage presence than the rest of the group combined.
“That’s her.”
“She’s cute,” Erin said. “Parker’s got good taste.”
“Like mother, like daughter.”
Erin rolled her eyes like she didn’t find Cassie totally charming.
Four
CASSIE
By the time the concert ended, Cassie had sufficiently calmed down. She and Erin had kept their hands, thighs, arms to themselves for the rest of the performance, so she could breathe again. They stayed in their seats while the auditorium emptied around them. It was rude; they were on an aisle. But getting up meant accepting this whole thing was over.
Cassie finally stood when Acacia came strutting up the aisle with a grin on her face. She’d shaved off her relaxed hair when she came to school, and Cassie was still getting used to it, but Acacia somehow looked so much more herself than she had before.
“There you are!” She tugged Cassie into a hug. “I thought you weren’t gonna show up and I was going to have to help Parker hide your body.”
“Really, Kaysh?” Cassie said, using the nickname she’d had for her since they were little. “You wouldn’t protect me from her?”
“Hey, you and me go back, but you know she gets scary!”
Erin laughed beside Cassie, and Acacia turned to her.
“You must be Dr. Bennett,” she said. “I’m Acacia.”
Erin shook her hand. “Call me Erin. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“A lot of terrible things, probably,” Cassie said. Acacia punched her in the shoulder, harder than necessary. “Hey, where’s your big brother?”
“He had some work to do. He’ll meet us later,” she said with a look that meant the work he had to do was likely buying them booze. Emerson had been buying them alcohol since long before Cassie was legal.
“Hiiiiiii!” Parker appeared, practically tackling Acacia in a hug. “Thanks for coming!”
There was the requisite doting on the star of the concert while Parker told them to stop—the giant grin on her face telling them otherwise.
As they headed toward an exit, Cassie realized what an idiot she was. If she’d wanted a proper goodbye, she should have done it in the bathroom. They were sure as shit not going to get one now. For one terrifying moment, she wished she was a hugger, because at least then she’d get to touch Erin again.
Okay, you’re done. She shut it down. She’d just wished she was a hugger. This had clearly gone too far. Erin was a good kisser, but that was ridiculous. Get ahold of yourself. She’d say goodbye to Erin and move on. Emerson better be buying a lot of booze.
Except God hated her, or something, because instead of getting to flee and put all of this behind her, she heard Parker shout, “Daddy!” and watched her catapult herself into the arms of the man waiting by the door.
Of course Parker’s dad was here. Cassie had known that. Parker being with her dad was what allowed her mom to be in the fucking bar last night.
Cassie wiped her hands on her jeans—which she’d forgotten were streaked with grease from the shop—and chanced a glance at Erin, who was looking elsewhere, jaw clenched tight.
“Hey baby,” her dad said. Then, with much lower enthusiasm, “Erin.”