Page 71 of Saving Graces
Kinsey dipped her head and nodded. She closed the door behind her.
When she got back to her room, her bags were already gone. She trailed down the hall, her heart stuttering as she passed Rosalie’s door, and went downstairs to meet Cassidy in the foyer. Brynn was there, arms around Cassidy, squeezing her tight. Savannah stood aside, a worried expression on her face. Brynn hugged Kinsey next and Kinsey somehow still found a tiny space inside her to feel the shock of Brynn fucking Marshall hugging her. Savannah pulled back from holding her sister close and fixed Kinsey with a look she couldn’t decipher.
“I’m sorry you’re leaving early,” Savannah said, with a small frown. “It’s a real shame.”
“Yeah,” Kinsey said. “Thank you for everything,” she added, meaning it.
“No,” said Savannah, a small hidden sparkle arriving into her eyes, “thank you for everything.”
Kinsey tried not to blush. Savannah Grace appeared to be thanking her for taking Rosalie to bed every night for a week. Savannah pulled her in and Kinsey looked over her shoulder, sensing movement. To her chagrin, Rosalie walked down the stairs toward them, looking soft and very touchable in a plain old sweater and leggings. Kinsey swallowed hard, as to her great discomfort, she felt a serious ache in her chest.
Rosalie frowned as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “What’s happening?” she asked. “Day trip?” She saw Cassidy’s tear-stained face and did a double take.
Everyone paused.
“Cassie and Lane,” said Savannah delicately, “need a bit of space from each other. These two are on their way back to Nashville.”
Rosalie stilled. Her eyes went straight to Kinsey, before she flicked them back to Cassidy with effort. She wavered briefly, then turned, giving Cassie a warm hug.
“Sweetheart,” she said. “I’m sorry. Have you got people to talk to?”
Cassidy nodded against her shoulder.
“I’ve got Kinsey,” she said, making Kinsey’s heart squeeze a little. Rosalie met her gaze over Cassidy’s shoulder. Her eyes were full of something that Kinsey couldn’t read. Rosalie let go of Cassidy and tucked a lock of hair behind her ears, seeming lost. For a second, everyone stood by and then Savannah jerked into movement.
“Let’s get you to the car,” she said to Cassidy, clearly trying to give Rosalie and Kinsey a moment of space. Brynn went with them and Kinsey belatedly realized that of course Savannah’s wife knew about them too.
“Kinsey,” Rosalie said, her expression slightly panicked. They only had about thirty seconds before it would be weird for her not to go outside, but Rosalie seemed lost for words. Her mouth opened and then closed. “I wish you weren’t leaving right now.”
“I know,” Kinsey said. “Me too.” Silence hung heavily between them. “For what it’s worth. I’m going to be forever grateful we got a little more time together than just a few hours in a bar.”
Rosalie looked a little winded. Then, for the first time, risking their cover, she pulled Kinsey in and kissed her. It was soft, sweet, filled with longing. It felt, to Kinsey, like a goodbye. She pulled back from the kiss, cupped Rosalie’s face, just briefly, meeting her beautiful eyes one last time and then made herself walk out the door.
Outside in the early morning light it was freezing cold. Cassidy was already in the car, the motor running. Brynn shot Kinsey a sympathetic smile then headed back into the house. Savannah looked frozen stiff in the snow, but she hesitated, searching Kinsey’s eyes just briefly. Kinsey could only shrug. Savannah pulled her into another quick fierce hug, then to her surprise, the most epically famous woman she’d ever met grabbed her hand and slipped something tiny into her fingers like they were passing contraband. It felt small and scratchy. Kinsey slipped it into her pocket, automatically.
“Catch you round, Kinsey,” Savannah said. Kinsey nodded and slid into the back of the car next to Cassidy.
The driveway and the roads had been neatly plowed but the snowdrifts were high along the verges. Kinsey glanced over at Cassidy who stared out the window, traces of tears still on her cheeks. Kinsey reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand. Cassidy sighed, her face wobbling. They both turned their heads, watching the snowy trees pass by as the car wrenched them out of the peaceful forest and toward the city.
Kinsey thought of Rosalie’s face when she realized they were leaving, the emotion in her eyes, the heat of her kiss. She thought of her appearing in the kitchen that first night, glowing from the cold, hands full of herbs, her blush when she realized Kinsey was there. God, what a trip.
As the driver pulled up at the airport and they struggled out in the cold, Kinsey retrieved the square of paper Savannah slipped her from her pocket. It was a scrap of white paper, folded about twelve times until it was less than the size of a penny. When she opened it, she saw a looping curving script. It was a phone number, and underneath, underlined three times for emphasis, it just said Rosalie.
Chapter Twenty
Cassidy sat bolt upright and instantly regretted it. Her head pounded and her stomach rebelled, swirling with nausea. She lay back in the pillows, burrowing sideways in the sheets and tried hard not to move. Her eyes cracked open. Something was off. The soft grey pillowcase was unfamiliar, as was the fine crack in the white bedroom wall. Where the hell was she?
Slowly she raised her head again, her head swimming. A leather jacket was slung over the back of a wooden chair next to a table covered in notebooks and loose sheets of paper. An electric guitar was propped up against the wall. She knew this room. She was in Kinsey’s bedroom. In Kinsey’s bed.
Cassidy took stock, quickly. She was still in her t-shirt and underpants, which had to mean…something, didn’t it? Why the hell was she waking up in Kinsey’s bed? The day before came back to her slowly, then rushed in like a hurricane wave. Lane, their face shut down like a stranger’s, not even a hug goodbye when she left. The silent flight home, avoiding Kinsey’s eyes, not able to even talk yet. Kinsey inviting her in when the car dropped her off first. Talking and crying all afternoon until Cassidy had felt so strung out and drained that she could only think of one thing left to do: drink.
And drink she had. She had a faint recollection of having helped Kinsey drink the six pack of beer that was in her fridge and then demanding Kinsey find her something more. “More” had been a bottle of whiskey gifted to Kinsey by her dad at Christmas. Cassidy groaned into the pillow, swallowing another sour rush of nausea. From there, Cassidy didn’t remember much else. A brief flash of being in Kinsey’s arms that made her face heat up red hot, and then this, waking up in Kinsey’s bed.
Cassidy struggled out of the bed, each footfall echoing sharply through her aching skull. She cracked open the bedroom door and listened. Silence echoed. She tiptoed out, dragging her suitcase behind her into the bathroom. After showering, brushing her furry teeth and pulling on clean clothes she felt almost like a human again.
She didn’t think she could face food yet, but she made coffee. Eventually she found Kinsey, sitting on the back porch, gazing out at the grass, her thoughts a thousand miles away. Her face sat somewhere between sad and wistful. A pit opened up in Cassidy’s stomach. Had she done something last night to put that look on Kinsey’s face?
“Hey,” she said softly and Kinsey turned toward her.
