“Followed by evidence that I am the worst seductress in the Pacific Northwest,” Stevie said.
Iris’s expression remained thoughtful as she stepped forward, fingers sliding under the hem of Stevie’s tank. “Then allow me to take the lead. May I?”
Stevie swallowed, acutely aware at how close Iris was. She knew it was fake—this wild woman playing at romance to get into a character’s head or something—but with Iris a mere breath away, Stevie could count every single freckle on her face, and her lungs were having a hard time remembering how to function.
She managed to nod though, and Iris lifted her shirt up, prompting Stevie to raise her arms. The fabric slid slowly—way more slowly than it really needed to, in Stevie’s opinion—and when the tank slipped free, Iris was smirking.
“What?” Stevie asked, rolling her shoulders back. The single strap of her bathing suit pulled at her neck.
“Nothing,” Iris said. “You’re just cute, that’s all.”
Stevie snorted. “Is that a line for your research?”
Iris’s smile slipped, but only for a second. “Of course it is, my adorable button.”
Stevie took care of her shorts—no way she could handle a woman who could most certainly be featured on some Sexiest People of the Year list taking off her pants—and she and Iris approached the edge of the pool, the water already undulating with swimmers. Stevie spotted Iris’s friends wading by the stairs, half of them with umbrellaed drinks in their hands already.
“Ready?” Iris asked, slotting her fingers between Stevie’s.
Stevie pulled on her suit’s strap, which felt about as thin as a spaghetti noodle. It barely gave, digging into Stevie’s shoulder like a wire. Still, she nodded and tightened her grip on Iris’s hand.
“One . . .” Iris said, “two . . . three!”
Stevie leaped, throwing her free arm back and jumping. The water hit her like a slap—sudden and freezing cold. Still, she felt liberated and wild. She lost Iris’s hand on impact, and she let her knees bend all the way, her feet scraping the bottom before she rocketed herself back to the surface. She broke into the sun, swiping her hair back from her face and laughing.
“That was amazing,” she said, blinking into the light and trying to find Iris. “I should do that more—”
“Oh shit,” Iris said, her eyes wide on Stevie’s chest.
Then Stevie realized exactly why she felt so wild and free upon hitting the water—her bathing suit strap had snapped and was currently drifting in front of her while the pool’s waves lapped at her . . .
“Fucking hell,” she said, crossing her arms to cover herself, because despite the vigorous dive, she and Iris had jumped into the shallow end and her boobs were on full display at this family affair.
“Okay, okay, it’s okay,” Iris said, swimming toward her. She grabbed the floating strap and pulled up, nudging Stevie’s arms out of the way so she could hook it around her neck. Iris moved behind her and Stevie felt tugging.
“Everyone okay?” Claire asked, moving through the water toward them.
“I’d say that’s a no,” Delilah said, but not unkindly. She winced at Stevie, her expression pure sympathy.
“Can you tie it to something?” Astrid asked, now behind Stevie too as she and Iris tried to troubleshoot her ancient swimsuit into functionality. Soon the entire crew had swarmed Stevie, all of them closing ranks to cover her from public view.
Still, Stevie felt like she was five seconds from flashing all of them, and that was not her idea of a great first impression.
“Well, baby doll,” Iris said, “there just doesn’t seem to be any way to salvage this.” She tugged a bit more.
“I can just go,” Stevie said. “I don’t want to ruin your party.”
“Hell no,” Iris said. “My woman is in trouble, and I’m going to fix it.” She released the strap slowly so Stevie could hold the swimsuit to her chest herself. “They sell suits in the club.”
Stevie nodded and let Iris help her out of the pool via the stairs. A few middle school–aged boys pointed and laughed, and Stevie felt like she was eleven years old again as she climbed out of the water and Iris wrapped a towel around her.
“Some romantic first date,” Stevie said.
Iris laughed. “You always make it interesting, I’ll give you that.”
“So . . . how much did you see? Before I covered myself up?”
Iris’s mouth twitched as she tugged the towel tighter. “Let’s just say the curiosity that never got satisfied the night we met has been fully quenched.”
“Oh god,” Stevie said, covering her eyes.
“Hey, you’ve got no need to be embarrassed.”
Stevie peeked out from between her fingers. “No?”
“Not even a little tit. I mean bit.”
Stevie froze for a second—she couldn’t believe Iris said that—but then a laugh bubbled into her chest and flew from her mouth. Soon they were cracking up, literally hanging on to each other’s shoulders for support. Stevie couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard her stomach muscles hurt.
“Oh god, I needed that,” she said wiping her eyes.
“Everyone in the club needed that,” Iris said, and Stevie devolved into giggles again as Iris took her hand and led her toward the club.
“Now,” Iris said as she opened the glass door and the cool air rushed out to meet them, “for your next selection, I’m thinking something at least three sizes too small with nothing but a string to cover your ass.”
“Maybe I’ll just leave off the bottoms altogether,” Stevie said. “Just really lean into this public indecency vibe I’ve got going on.”
Iris laughed harder as they walked through the lobby, which was all glass and rich wood. Stevie felt a swell of pride—it felt like a huge accomplishment, making a woman like Iris laugh like that. They were nearly to the club’s shop when Iris jolted to a stop so quickly, Stevie bumped into her.
Iris hardly seemed to notice though. She was frozen, her already pale skin now a shade that could only be described as puce.
“Hey,” Stevie said gently. “You okay?”
Iris just blinked, her eyes wide on a woman about twenty feet in front of them at the front desk. She was tall, with ice-blond hair cut short on the sides and long on top, dressed in a white tank, navy board shorts, and white sneakers. She looked to be paying for tickets to the party and was soon joined by another woman with long dark hair in a tie-dyed cover-up, a bag filled with beach towels on her shoulder, along with a kid with light brown hair who looked like he was about nine or ten.
“Ready, baby?” the blonde said, then linked hands with the brunette and started toward Iris and Stevie.
As she got closer, the blond woman locked eyes with Iris, her mouth parting. Then she shook her head ever so slightly and sped up, but the brunette had also seen Iris.
“Oh my god,” she said, rearing back as though Iris had spit venom. “You.”
“Lucy, come on,” the blonde said. “Let’s just go.”
But Lucy wasn’t having it. She wrenched her hand free and whirled on her partner. “Did you know she was going to be here? Are you still fucking her? Goddammit, Jillian, I thought we’d moved through this!”
“Mama, what’s wrong?” the kid asked.
The blonde—Jillian—just shook her head, while Iris seemed locked into place. Stevie squeezed her hand, trying to jolt her back into herself, but all that did was cause Iris’s lower lip to tremble.
“Nothing, sweetie,” Jillian said to the kid, then glared at Iris. “Why are you still standing here? Can you please leave?”
Iris blinked, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“Oh no,” Lucy said, folding her arms. “No one is moving until I get some answers. I think we need to call our therapist. Right now.”
“Hey,” Stevie said as firmly as she could. She wasn’t sure who the hell these people were, but they were pissing her off. Suddenly, the bold and brash Stefania seemed to take over, and Stefania couldn’t stand to see Iris cowering beside her any longer.
“I don’t know who you two are,” she said, “but my girlfriend hasn’t done anything to you.”