Page 12 of Saving Graces
“You say that,” Savannah had her boots on and she moved to the window, “but you literally don’t know me at all.”
“I know you’re not a murderer.” Rosalie stood up, her hands by her side, wary like she was trying to engage a bristling stray cat. “And that… you have good taste in books. That you’re sweet and smart and considerate. And beautiful,” she added, trying to pull together all the things she’d noticed about Savannah. It seemed to be the wrong thing to say because Savannah shrank back even further.
“Listen,” she said sharply, her hands gripping the sill and pulling the window open. “You’re like, a kid, okay? You don’t understand a thing, especially not about the world.”
“What?” Rosalie’s hands balled into fists. “We’re ten months apart in age. Don’t act like you’re a grownup and I’m a kid. I understand plenty! Like right now, I understand that you’re freaking out, but you don’t get to pretend that I’m some stranger or that I’m a child. You don’t get to-”
“I like girls!” Savannah cried. “Okay? That’s why my mom kicked me out. She thinks I’m a freak and I’m going to hell and I can’t be around my baby sister and that’s who is sleeping in your bed, okay?”
Rosalie stared at her.
“Your mom sounds like an asshole,” she said. Savannah blinked, one hand gripping the sill.
“What?”
“Shit. Sorry. I know she’s your mom, but yeah. She’s a real asshole.” Rosalie doubled down, holding Savannah’s wide-eyed stare. “Can you like, close the window and come back to bed? It’s late and I’m cold and you can sleep in a tree if you want, but that seems like an uncomfortable, borderline dangerous way to make a point.”
Savannah didn’t move, so Rosalie sighed and slid her feet back under the covers. She leaned against the pillows and eyeballed Savannah who seemed kind of stuck.
“Oh my god,” Rosalie huffed after another minute. “I know you’re trying to do some big gesture storm out but it’s kind of ruined now, so can you just admit that already and close the fucking window?”
Savannah looked down and breathed out a small laugh. She closed the window. When she’d taken off the jacket and her boots, she returned to the side of the bed, hesitating, her shoulders tense. Rosalie flipped the covers back pointedly and Savannah got back in, mirroring her position against the pillows and hugging her knees.
“I’m sorry,” Savannah said after a while. “I didn’t mean the stuff about you being a kid.”
“Yeah you did.”
“I sort of did. You look so young and your life is kind of sheltered and I’ve been through some shit. Sometimes I feel like I’m about a hundred years old.”
“You’re very well preserved,” Rosalie said and Savannah snorted another small laugh. “We’re not strangers though,” she insisted, pulling her up on the thing that had hurt worse. “I kind of thought we were friends.”
Savannah turned her head and looked at her. Her eyes were shy.
“I guess we are,” she said softly.
“Do you find yourself frequently having to hold back from trying to have wild sex with me?” Rosalie asked and Savannah choked.
“No,” she said, her face going bright red. Rosalie grinned.
“Then I think we can probably manage to keep sharing a bed. Can we skip the melodrama from now?”
“God, yes,” said Savannah, scrunching down the bed and under the covers. Rosalie switched off the lamp and they finally went to sleep.
Chapter Five
Rosalie shook her head, ruefully. There was a lovely quiet evening waiting for her at home, away from the hoards of Nashville and the crowded Friday night bars. There was really no reason she should be letting this young woman lead her down the darkened street, like she was the one showing Rosalie through her own damn hometown. She wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into her. The word was no, it was really all she needed to say, but for some inexplicable reason, here she was.
She’d stay for a song or two, make Kinsey feel like she’d been seen up on stage, like she clearly wanted to be, then she’d fade off into the crowd and back to her life, no harm done. Rosalie was flattered, that was all. Kinsey was stunning; legions of people probably fell at her feet every day, and yet she kept looking at Rosalie like she was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. It was a move, that was all; Rosalie was under no illusion as she glanced down at herself in her boring office attire. She had to admit though, that it felt exciting to feel the desire in those confident bedroom eyes, aimed squarely at her.
Twenty-six. Rosalie almost laughed. She remembered being that age. She’d been confident about everything back then too. Probably not Kinsey-level confident, though, asking Rosalie out with every expectation that she’d say yes, despite all the reasons why she shouldn’t.
Somewhat embarrassingly, Rosalie had been attracted the very moment she’d laid eyes on Kinsey. Probably very few people wouldn’t be, she consoled herself. She was only human after all. Those eyes, that hair, that body… Rosalie quickly dragged her eyes away, but Kinsey had already caught her look, her smirk across the darkened sidewalk clearly telegraphing I know you want me.
Shit. She really should just go home. But just like that they were at the venue, Howler - of course, how stupidly cool - Kinsey not only opening the door for her, but lightly touching her fingers to the small of Rosalie’s back as she entered, making her swallow, hard. Kinsey guided her to a small high table with a couple of bar stools.
“I’ve gotta go,” she said, as soon as Rosalie sat. “But I swear I won’t be long. And,” she took a small step closer, a faint hint of warm perfume hitting Rosalies’s senses, “I think you should stay.” Without waiting for an answer, she waved down a waiter, who unsurprisingly changed direction toward her immediately, arriving at the table probably disappointed to take Rosalie’s drink order while Kinsey disappeared into the crowd.
A few minutes later, as Rosalie sipped on a riesling, the band took the stage. The lead singer was tall and voluptuous, the rest of the band nondescript, except for Kinsey, an electric bass in her hands. The first song started, the woman’s voice warm and sensual, the beat seductive, and Kinsey who was both powering the rhythm section and singing back-up, straight up smoldered. Rosalie swallowed, her legs crossing tightly on her bar stool. She let out a small laugh at herself. Honestly, she rolled her eyes, tonight she kept acting like a wide-eyed teenage girl rather than a grown woman who absolutely knew better. Somehow though, her plan to slip out the door never quite seemed to happen.
