Iris Kelly Doesn't Date (Bright Falls, #3)

Footsteps sounded on the concrete, and Adri and Vanessa appeared in the hallway.

“Oh,” Iris said quietly, “showtime. Simon, be cool.”

“Be cool how?”

“Just shut up,” Iris said to him and then yanked Stevie closer, arm curled around her waist. Stevie was a fucking brick wall next to her—that was going to need some work.

“Hey, there you are,” Adri said, spotting them through the doorway. Her eyes flitted down to Iris’s arm around Stevie, before lifting again. “Did you two want to do a reading? I’m happy to run that so you can get a feel for interacting with Stevie on the stage.”

“No need,” Iris said quickly. “I’ll do the play.”

Vanessa clapped her hands once, her mouth spreading into a lovely smile. “Wonderful! Amazing.”

“That’s great,” Adri said. “We’re excited.”

Iris smiled. “Me too.”

Adri glanced at Stevie, then cleared her throat. “Okay, so, some details. We usually hold the full company rehearsal in the evenings to accommodate our actors with day jobs, though I also conduct regular workshops for our principal actors if they can swing it.”

“That works, I think,” Iris said.

“Everything starts up next Friday with our principals’ retreat at Vanessa’s parents’ house in Malibu. We have team building exercises, pair off to run lines, do some role reversal. I know it’s last minute, but I’m afraid it’s nonnegotiable.”

“Malibu?” Simon said. “That’s a bit far, isn’t it?”

“Not for me,” Iris said quickly, because Malibu. “I’ve never been and I’ve always wanted to go.” And, Jesus, the idea of getting out of Bright Falls for a bit sounded nice.

Vanessa smiled. “My folks pay for everything, including airfare, so there are no worries there. They’re big supporters of the arts, and this is part of their annual contribution to the Empress. They make themselves scarce while we’re there, which is also appreciated.” She laughed. “Things can get a little wild.”

“I love wild,” Iris said.

“She really does,” Simon said, and Iris elbowed him in the ribs.

“So you’re in?” Adri said, tucking her teal hair behind her heavily pierced ears.

Iris eyeballed Stevie, who was still staring straight ahead like she was facing down the barrel of a gun. Iris shook her a little, pressed their shoulders together and grinned at Stevie like the smitten kitten she was.

Well, pretending she was.

“I’m very much in,” she crooned. God, she was already so good at this.

“Jesus Christ,” Simon muttered under his breath, but Iris ignored him, nuzzling Stevie’s neck a bit for good measure.

Iris wasn’t positive, it happened so fast, but she could swear Adri’s smile dimmed just a little.

“Wonderful,” Vanessa said. “This is going to be so much fun. Right, Stevie?”

Iris heard Stevie inhale slowly, waiting a split second before she managed a whispered, “So much fun.”





CHAPTER TWELVE





FOUR DAYS LATER, Stevie was wearing a bathing suit that didn’t fit.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been swimming, but now she stood on the warm deck of the Belmont Club’s giant pool with Iris, trying to get the courage to take off her tank and shorts to reveal a one-piece she’d had since she was seventeen. It was orange and pink and white—which she was pretty sure she’d picked out as some sort of baby lesbian pride statement—and had a one-shoulder style. The strap was so tight, it felt like it was about to snap.

A few days ago, the day after their fraught reunion at the Empress, Iris had texted while Stevie was wiping down tables at Bitch’s.


Iris: Hey sweetie



Stevie had stared at her phone. Of course, she and Iris had exchanged numbers before Iris left the Empress on Tuesday, but still, Iris’s term of endearment threw Stevie off balance. Maybe Iris meant to text one of her friends. Stevie ignored the text and went on with her shift, only to have her phone buzz approximately seven minutes later.


Iris: Snookums

Iris: Oh that’s horrible. Maybe just honey?

Iris: Baby. I like that one

Iris: Babe

Iris: Isn’t it a requirement that all queer couples call each other babe? Judging from my friends, I think it is

Iris: Darling, if we want to get fancy

Iris: Nope never mind, that reminds me of my best friend’s mom a little too much and shudder



Stevie just blinked at her screen as the texts piled in, unsure of what to say back. Finally, she settled for a very sophisticated Hey.


Iris: She lives!

Stevie: Sorry I’m at work

Iris: Where do you work?

Iris: I just realized we know nothing about each other. Might want to change that before rehearsals start.



She had a point there. All Stevie knew about Iris was that she was an author and lived in Bright Falls.

    Stevie: Bitch’s Brew. If you like a little bit of queer witch with your coffee, it’s the place to be

Iris: I always prefer a little queer witch

Stevie: As do we all

Iris: I’ll let you get back to work, but I wanted to ask you out on a date

Stevie: A date?

Iris: A “date”



Stevie inhaled slowly. She’d agreed to this part of their deal, but figured Iris would simply . . . forget? Then again, Iris didn’t seem like the kind of person who forgot anything. Nerves flared through Stevie’s stomach, but she swallowed them down. She could do this. It wasn’t like she actually had to impress Iris—she’d already humiliated herself in the worst way possible in front of the woman. Plus, Iris was sweet. A little hyper, but sweet.

And gorgeous.

God, Iris was so ridiculously beautiful, Stevie had a hard time breathing just thinking about her freckles, her red hair, her—


Iris: So?



Stevie shook her head to clear it and texted, What did you have in mind?

Which was exactly how Stevie found herself wearing her pubescent bathing suit on a Saturday morning at the Belmont Club’s poolside Pride party in Portland. It was a fancy place that required membership, but every June for the last few years, they hosted a fundraiser for the Trevor Project and decked out their huge outdoor pool with all manner of rainbow paraphernalia. Apparently, Iris’s friends were all going to celebrate an engagement, and Iris wanted Stevie to go with her.

Be my date, she’d texted. We can get to know each other more and maybe it’ll be less awkward for you if we start in a group setting.

It was actually kind of sweet of Iris to think of Stevie’s comfort level like that, and the woman was already doing Stevie a huge favor by acting like her girlfriend during the play. The least Stevie could do was go to a queer pool party for a good cause. She’d certainly had her share of friends back in high school who’d needed some of the Trevor Project’s resources, and she knew the organization had saved more than a few lives.

But now, ten minutes after meeting Iris in the Belmont’s lobby, Stevie stood frozen by the pool as partygoers continued to arrive. And it didn’t help the situation that Iris looked . . .

Well, she looked fucking radiant. She wore a white tank top that was thin enough to reveal a bikini underneath—red, yellow, pink, and orange flowers, tied around her neck with a very thin string—and a pair of tiny denim shorts with the pockets hanging below the hem line. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and when she whipped off her tank top, Stevie nearly stopped breathing.

“You okay?” Iris asked as she started slathering on SPF 50.

Stevie nodded but still didn’t make a move to take off her own green tank. She glanced around, taking in the scene instead. It was pretty impressive, she had to admit. The pool was large and sparkling, and there were rainbow flags and banners everywhere, along with specific identity flags blowing in Mason jars on the patio tables lining the area. The deck sported teak sun chairs and large umbrellas in an array of colors, and a bar offered a variety of drinks featuring tiny rainbow umbrellas. It seemed to be a family affair as well, with a lot of couples of all genders sitting on the side of the pool while their kids splashed in the water.

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