Page 17 of Sweet Surrender
“You know what I’m talking about,” Barra said. “I saw you. You found something under the table and hid it in your pants. Then you spent the rest of the feast squeaking like a mouse.”
Allie gasped. “I did not.”
“Yes, you did,” Barra said. “I’m surprised no one else noticed.” Or maybe not that surprised. Sutton had spent a great deal of time talking about her lesbian-only ski resort while Hazel had been hunched over with her fist pressed against her stomach. Apparently, she had the digestive ability of a tiny, fragile bird.
“You can’t prove anything,” Allie snapped, already marching toward her. “And you have no right whatsoever to go through someone else’s bag. It’s illegal.” She grabbed the bag and yanked it.
Barra should have let go. She knew she should have, but something in her body locked down. Call it a reflex or instinct, but her grip remained tight. Then Allie pulled again, harder this time, and suddenly everything happened at once. Barra was hauled upright before she could brace herself. Her balancedisappeared beneath her as if someone had kicked the legs out from under a chair. Then she stumbled forward and collided straight into Allie just as the bag slipped from both their grips and hit the ground with a thud.
Barra had barely registered it, but her hands were on Allie’s waist. Her face was impossibly close to Allie’s face. She could feel Allie’s exhale against her lips and experienced a startling buzz of nostalgia. Except they weren’t in that bathroom in Big Sur; they were in a damn jungle in Costa Rica.
“I’m...” she started to apologize but then stopped as Allie’s eyes flicked down to Barra’s mouth, and before Barra knew it, a heat had spread down to her hips. She’d completely forgotten that the cameras were watching. Her palms were sweaty. Allie’s lips were a mere breath away. She could easily kiss her. Did she want to kiss her? Or would a kiss be the ultimate distraction?
Couldn’t it be both divine and a distraction?
Barra didn’t give herself any more time to question it. Precious moments were wasted when one thought things through. Unfortunately, she knew all about that. Instead, she closed the gap until her lips brushed against Allie’s lips, and her fingers tightened on Allie’s hips, curling into the fabric of her shorts. She was just about to pull her closer, press her mouth harder, but then Allie pulled away as if she’d touched an electric fence.
“Are you seriously trying to kiss me right now?” she spluttered. “What the fuck, Barra?”
Barra touched a finger to her lips.
Heat suddenly spread up her neck and to her cheeks. She would’ve turned and run away, but where would she go? Instead, she scoffed, “Oh please, like you weren’t thinking of doing the same.”
Allie huffed out a breath. “No,” she said. “I was not, actually.”
“You were looking at my lips.”
“I look at everyone’s lips,” Allie blurted, though her voice wavered just a fraction. A fraction enough. “You’re not special, Barra. Even though you clearly think you are.”
“Who says I think I’m special?”
“Oh come on,” Allie said, yanking her bag up from the ground and cradling it to her chest. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Even at the wedding you were acting like you—”
“Like what?” Barra cut in. Like she had barely held herself together.
Allie sighed and dropped the bag to her feet. Barra couldn’t help it; her eyes went to it. She wondered if that stupid bracelet was in there and then also wondered why she cared so much. Who gave a fuck if Allie had found it. If she had, she deserved it.
“I didn’t care that you vomited all over me,” Allie said. “Or that you ran away and left me sitting in the cab for fifteen minutes wondering if you were going to come back.” She huffed out a breath that Barra could feel all the way over to where she was standing. “But when you spoke to me like that at the airport, like I was some inconvenience... tell me, Barra, what did I do to you to deserve that?”
Nothing. Allie had done absolutely nothing to deserve that.
Barra swallowed and let her head dip low. Sutton might be blunt and obvious about her bitchiness, but Barra was worse. Her damage was silent, like cancer, festering slowly over time. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said so softly she barely heard her own voice. “And I shouldn’t have stolen your bag. That was really unlike me.”
There was a pause, long enough that Barra worried Allie wasn’t going to accept her apology, but then she slung her backpack over her right shoulder and said, “Can we just start over? Can we forget all about what happened at the weddingand at the airport, and just be friends, or at least healthy competitors?”
“Only if you tell me if you found the protection bracelet,” Barra said. She hadn’t snuck out of camp, nearly died of fright, and then embarrassed herself by trying to kiss Allie, just to walk away empty-handed. Nope. She’d gone through all this trouble for a reason, and she sure as hell was going to get some clarity. Barra even tilted up her chin to show she meant business.
Allie stared at her as if she’d sprouted a second head, but then, a breath later, sighed. “Fine,” she muttered. “I did find the bracelet. It was stuck to the underside of the table at the feast. I ended up breaking a nail to pull it off. Are you happy?”
“Yes,” Barra said, smiling, and for the first time in a while that smile came a lot easier. She snapped a twig off a nearby branch and stuck it between her teeth. “I’m happy.”
“Good,” Allie said. “Now you need to promise not to tell anyone. Not even Hazel.”
Barra hadn’t even thought about telling Hazel. In fact, she’d completely forgotten all about her. “Fine,” she said, reaching up to pluck a leaf from the same low-hanging branch. “I won’t tell a soul. Are you going to tell Sutton?” The branch snapped back like a whip.
Allie looked at her like she had considered it already and the answer was no. She shook her head just as Barra presumed she would, and again Barra smiled. “I don’t blame you,” she said. “I wouldn’t tell Sutton either.” Then she reached for another leaf closer to her head. She plucked it off just as Allie shuddered.
“Will you please stop plucking things off trees,” Allie hissed, sounding way too exasperated. “You might just bother something up there.”
