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The walk from school to Van’s place is mostly silent.
Which is weird, because they’ve made this walk probably a thousand times before and it’s never been this quiet. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, or anything, but it still feels… tense. Like she’s been holding her breath this entire time, overwhelmed with something that feels dangerously close to giddy anticipation.
It doesn’t help that Van’s been uncharacteristically quiet, too. She’s been glancing at Taissa and looking away over and over again, like she can’t see her out of her peripheral vision or anything. Taissa keeps her gaze ahead on the sidewalk, basking in the feel of Van’s eyes on her cheek while staunchly trying to pretend she doesn’t feel it at all. The nervous energy radiating off of her just seems to fan Tai’s flame more and more with each passing second.
The steady silence is starting to wear at her a little bit, though. Technically she’s invited herself to hang out with Van tonight—but at the time she had kind of figured Van had wanted her to. Invite herself over, that is.
Like, they’d all been hanging around in the locker room after school on Thursday, and Taissa had been listening to Jackie drone on and on about whatever lukewarm date Jeff had planned for them the next day. She had tried to limit her eye rolls to a minimum, but apparently even that wasn’t enough—making Van snort next to her before they both devolved into giggles, trying and failing to hide their laughs behind their hands.
Jackie, who seemed to have the superpower of always knowing when something was about her, had turned to them immediately.
“Okay,” she said, quirking one of her plucked brows, “So what are your plans, then? Since yours are apparently so superior .”
Tai had bristled, already defensive. There was something on the tip of her tongue, something mean and rotten— but before she could show just how much that comment sat under her skin, Van cut in.
“Actually, I have amazing plans, since you really wanna know,” Van grinned at Jackie, big and broad enough to stretch across her cheeks, making Tai get dizzy for a second thinking why are you so happy? Who are you hanging out with? And why isn’t it me?
Jackie had folded her arms across her chest, corner of her lips going up into a smirk that said she was expecting to call a bluff. “Oh, do tell. ”
“Well, Ms. Jacqueline Kennedy, I have the exciting plans of getting stoned and listening to the Sundays. What can I say? I’m a woman of wonder and intrigue.”
And Van’s own superpower of being able to make anyone smile no matter what came into full effect, because just a second later Jackie was thawed from her icy mood and grinning, smacking Van in the shoulder before rolling her eyes and turning away. Tension washed away in just a second. It was something she liked so much about Van, her ability to just not take everything so seriously , and causing others to do the same in some kind of osmosis effect that always had Tai shaking her head in disbelief.
But for some reason, it was like Van had struck a chord in her. She’d had her own option to hang out Friday night—some guy on the football team wanting to take her out to whatever nasty bonfire party would be going on, probably the same one Jackie would probably end up dragging Shauna and Jeff to anyway. She’d already turned him down then and there, giving a disinterested shrug when he tried to ask “What is it? Do you have other plans?”
She didn’t, but she didn’t need to tell him that, so she hadn’t. Just kept shaking her head no, finally turning around to bury herself in her locker when it seemed like he wouldn’t get the hint. She’d heard him mumble bitch under his breath, but it hadn’t bothered her in the slightest. She’d rather do her fucking Trig homework than stand near a fire for the whole night, holding onto a warm beer while listening disinterestedly to whatever paltry conversation he could have offered her.
And now, there were plans practically being thrust under her nose. And, unlike the date with the football jock, they actually sounded like fun . Smoking with Van and listening to music was practically the perfect balm she needed after the school week.
So right as Jackie was turning to her, already leaning forward to ask about her own plans, she’d thrown an arm around Van's shoulders. “Me too, actually. Van’s gonna broaden my musical horizons.”
It had the desired outcome; Jackie shrugging a shoulder—already over it— and Van immediately gasping.
“What? You’ve never listened to the Sundays?” She’d crowed, eyes lighting up in that way that made Tai wanna squirm right on the spot, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Nope,” she lied, “Never heard of ‘em.”
“Alright, well, consider your first lesson tomorrow. Be there or be square, Turner.”
As if she’d forget. As if she’d stand Van up. As if she’d wanna do literally anything else in the world. The thought wanted to make her laugh. But that would’ve looked crazy at the time, so she just settled for giving Van a smile that she usually reserved for her and only her. Van’s answering smile back had been enough to keep her on cloud nine for the rest of the day.
See, she knows exactly which album Van’s gonna listen to. Van only hummed it under her breath a hundred times. To be honest, she’s already heard the album probably like a hundred times over herself; when she was thirteen she played it on repeat for practically two weeks straight until her parents begged her to plug her headphones into her stereo. She knows the album. Is she gonna tell Van that, though? And ruin a perfectly good excuse to skip a date she doesn’t wanna go to, to do something she actually wants to do? Not a chance in hell. Especially when it means hanging out with her .
When they finally get there, it’s to an empty driveway. Her first instinct is to have a rush of relief, followed by the steady tide of shame that follows afterwards. She shouldn’t be relieved they have the house to themselves, it’s not like they’re gonna do anything.
Van on the other hand doesn’t care about hiding her own relief. “Thank god,” she mutters under her breath, twisting the key in the lock and shooting a wry look at Taissa over her shoulder. “Prepare yourself; it’s not exactly the Ritz-Carlton.”
She always gives the same sort of warning; probably the only times she’s ever shown her nerves around Taissa. Usually she’s brash and bold, confident in a way that Tai pretends to be, but when it comes to her house she always clams up. Tai wants to say it doesn’t matter, you could live in a fucking pig pen and I’d still come over , but that’s not a normal thing straight girls say to their best friends. So she just keeps her mouth shut and doesn’t say anything, for both of their sakes. It doesn’t even matter whatever state the house is in, because Van practically shepherds her to her room at the end of the hall.
Here, it’s comforting. Van’s room is always cozy; big quilts on the bed, warm-toned vintage lamps, and posters plastered on every inch of the walls. It smells like cigarette smoke and the cucumber melon body spray she uses. Van always gets embarrassed about the smell of cigarette smoke lingering in every room, but there’s a secret part of Tai that likes it. The combination of it is heady, something that always pervades her senses. She likes that the smell sticks to Van’s clothes, even though Van always wrinkles her nose. It’s like… a comforting constant she can always cling on to.
Van carelessly tosses her backpack in the far corner, snickering as Taissa opts for walking to the desk and gingerly setting her own bag down. When she looks up, Van’s watching her with a goofy smile on her face. It’s so infectious Tai can’t help but grin back.
“What?” she asks, already knowing what’s coming. It’s impossible to resist needling her, though, something about it that just—sends shivers down her spine. She recalibrates and crosses her arms across her chest.
“Oh, nothing. Just you being you.”
Taissa just rolls her eyes. She’s been called intense and uptight and anal in just about every way possible. Something about Van ribbing her for it makes it different from the others, though—when she knows that Taissa can cut loose just like everyone else. She just doles it out sparingly.
Case in point, Van takes no time in rummaging through the front pocket of her Jansport, pulling out a tightly rolled joint and brandishing it like it’s some sort of holy offering. Tai’s throat goes a little dry.
“That’s for us?” She asks a little weakly, trying and failing to keep the nerves out of her voice.
It’s not that she doesn’t like pot. It’s just… she has an embarrassingly low tolerance. It takes practically two hits of anything to get her completely stoned. And when she’s stoned it’s difficult to keep those thoughts under control. Thoughts like how vibrant Van’s hair looks in the sunlight when they’re out at practice, or how she has a dimple in her cheek when she smiles really big, or the way her cornflower blue eyes twinkle with mischief whenever Misty does something off-putting. Dangerous thoughts like those.
Van notices the hesitation, and Tai can see her waver a bit, unsure. “I mean, if you don’t wanna—”
“I do,” she cuts in, before Van can suggest anything else. God, she has to get a grip. “I’m down. Just haven’t done it in a while.”
It’s enough to get that comforting grin back on Van’s face. “ Duh , I know that. I was with you last time, remember?”
Oh, Tai remembers. It was at Nat’s birthday party, where they got completely loaded in honor of the birthday girl. Taissa had spent the majority of the night laughing her ass off, tears in her eyes, and clinging to Van like a lifeline. Her cheeks heat up at the memory, and she has to resist the urge to put her palms on her face to cool off.
Luckily, Van doesn’t comment on the obvious blush or the way she’s clammed up just now. Instead, she messes with the quilts and digs through her stack of cassettes, pulling out a familiar black and white one. Her ease helps Tai loosen up, enough so that she’s able to sit at the foot of the bed without having a conniption.
The bed rocks a little in the frame when Van finally plops down, joint in one hand and lighter in the other. She offers greens to Taissa, who waves her ahead.
The flame from the lighter bounces off Van's face and captures the copper highlights in her hair. Tai has to look away for a second. For her own sanity. She keeps her eyes pinned on the morose face of Sinead O’Connor and tries to regulate her breathing.
Van’s freckled hand pops into her eyeline—why is she just staring at the poster like a dumbass?— and shakes the joint and lighter a little. Taissa takes it, and tries to build up her mental fortitude. You will not say anything stupid, you will not do anything stupid , is the only warning she gives herself before lighting up.
It takes a while for them to get through the joint, with Tai hyper aware of passing it and making sure their fingers don’t brush. She starts to loosen up after a little bit, though, encouraged by Van’s hacking coughs and giggling. They’re both lightweights since neither of them do this all that often, and by the end of the joint she feels well and truly toasted; laughing hysterically when Van nearly faceplants getting off the bed to go crack open the window. “Fuck off ,” she grouses, but there’s a grin on her face that shows just how stoned she is. “You’re just as bad, don’t even pretend.”
I never pretend when I’m with you , is the first thought that runs through her mind, and it takes an iron willpower not to just blurt it out loud. Even if it is true. It’s safer to bite her lip so she doesn’t say anything embarrassing. Instead, she lets herself finally unclench and lean back on the bed, letting herself succumb to the heavy feeling in her bones, a small smile unconsciously spreading across her face. Yeah. This is so much better than a date with a dumb meathead jock.
The smooth guitar intro fades in gradually, with Van adjusting the volume on the stereo before moving to the bed again. Tai lets the chords wash over her, closing her eyes for a moment, opening them again when Harriet’s light voice begins with a soft croon. God, she loves this album. And it sounds a million times better when you’re completely stoned. The small grin stretches into goofy territory, and she can feel her cheeks crinkling up. Skin and Bones is such a good intro to the album, she almost forgets that she’s supposed to be pretending that she’s never heard it before and catches herself from humming along.
It’s silent while they listen to the first song. Like before, it’s nothing awkward or oppressive—like she’d probably be dealing with if she actually went on the date— but something comfortable . Like she can finally relax without feeling like her every movement is being watched, scrutinized, judged because she seems to be just a little different from the other girls. Van is the only one she can get that way with, though, as it’s impossible to imagine doing this with any other girl on the team. Hell, even the friends she had back home.
When it ends, Van nudges her thigh, and Tai immediately pops up, face going red when she realizes that she’s just been practically starfished on Van’s bed while they were listening to the song.
“Well?” Van raises her brows, looking a little trepidatious, “Whaddya think? Wanna keep listening, or is it not really your sound?”
“No, I like it,” she says immediately—a little too quickly, honestly—but the honesty is worth it when Van gives a relieved smile back at her, settling back against the pillows.
“Okay, cool,” she says, like it’s just that easy. “Rad.”
If Tai didn’t know any better, she’d say that Van was nervous . But Van doesn’t get nervous, not really, so she squashes the thought before it can grow legs. She’s just projecting her own thoughts onto Van, obviously, and she needs to get a fucking grip on herself before she does something stupid.
The next song fades in, and she sits herself up, scooting a little closer and straightening herself out so she’s not just sprawled like she was before. This one’s probably the most popular; the one that dominated the radio station she would listen to on the drive to school. It’s crazy to think that Van actually thinks that she’s never heard it before, but that suits her just fine. It gives her a reason to wrinkle her brow a little, heavily putting it on when she says, “Huh, this one sounds familiar.”
Van jumps at the opportunity to talk about the single, rattling off facts and radio charting statistics that Tai doesn’t really pay attention to but still smiles at anyway. Van’s in her element when she gets to talk about stuff she loves. She’s one of the best storytellers Taissa’s ever seen: all big hand gestures and excitement on her face and cheeks going slightly red when she realizes she’s talked too much—waiting for some kind of reprimand. But Tai just smiles through it, letting the commentary wash over her, always trying to memorize the sound of Van’s voice and the exact words she uses so she can reply the entire thing over and over in her head when she finally goes home.
It carries all the way over to the next song, Van talking and Tai just listening, still grinning. There comes a point where Van realizes that she’s probably just humoring her at this point, and she rolls her eyes, digging under her back to toss a well-worn pillow at her. “Oh, fuck off , dickhead,”
“No, no, keep going,” she says, the giggles bubbling up in her chest and making her feel warm, “Keep going, I wanna know their entire discography.”
Van tries to nudge her off the bed with a socked foot, yelping when Tai just grabs it and begins digging her fingers into the sole. It’s practically a battle for the next thirty seconds; both of them trying to gain the upper hand while laughing like a bunch of hyenas. Tai isn’t as ticklish as Van is, and the fact that she knows this is a daunting enough fact that she just decides to shelve the whole thing completely; putting it in one of the safest locked cabinets in the corner of her mind.
Amidst their laughter, the music is still playing. Did you know desire’s a terrible thing, the worst that I can find , fills the silence when they finally calm down, and Taissa’s reminded of just why she loves this album so much as she gives a hard swallow. She’s been feeling this way for years and years, and there’s only a few instances where she’s actually felt seen. Desire and crushes and infatuation and love has always been an unreachable concept to her; not because she doesn’t know how, but because she’s afraid. Afraid that one day she’s actually gonna give in, and it’s going to go as horribly and terribly as everyone says it does for people like her . People who can’t stop staring at their best friends and wondering if kissing them would finally solidify that thought that pervades her mind, saying that it would be better than any boy she’s ever kissed before.
It sobers her up a little bit, not entirely, but enough to have her going quiet. Van’s quiet too, but doesn’t seem to be as torn up over the lyrics as Tai is. When she glances over, Van has her head tilted back and eyes closed, one hand drumming along to the chords on her thigh. Tai allows herself to look, only for this moment.
Just like always, she’s struck by all the tiny details. Things that she never thought she’d like, that other normal girls probably wouldn’t notice. The long, pale column of Van’s throat as she stretches her head back. Her smooth, unblemished cheeks. The strands of hair tucked behind her ears, a couple of loose ones escaping. All of it. She lets herself indulge the sight, eyes feeling a little hazy and squinty from the weed, still.
At one point Van opens her eyes, and Tai isn’t fast enough to look away. Instead, she stays looking, figuring that it’s probably more awkward to be caught staring and turning away rather than just accepting it head-on. When a bright blush blooms across Van’s cheeks—the ones she was practically about to write sonnets over a second ago—it feels like it’s worth it. Something else she gets to tuck away and take home, something to think about behind her eyelids when she goes to sleep that night. Neither of them say anything, just watching each other for a second while the song tapers off. When Van’s blush goes a little deeper and she clears her throat, Taissa finally looks away.
The drum beats shepherd in the next song, and Taissa has to keep herself from perking up noticeably. This one is her favorite from the whole album, one that she played probably over and over and over again in her room until she was sure she knew every riff and note.
The jig is up when she accidentally hums along to the bridge—catching herself almost immediately but not fast enough for Van, who raises her brows and leans forward. “You know this song already, don’t you?”
She tries to salvage whatever she can. “Maybe,” she says, shrugging a shoulder like it’s no big deal.
Van gives her a look, eyes shining bright and a mischievous grin starting to uptick the corner of her mouth. It lessens the weight in Tai’s chest slightly. She doesn’t look angry or weirded out—just like the cat who got the canary. Tai tries to calm her heart from beating out of her chest when Van scoots closer, closing the distance between them until their knees touch. It takes all of her strength not to react, just swallows deep and keeps her knee pressed against Van’s.
“You’re such a liar,” Van pokes her hard in the shoulder, startling a laugh out of her. “Admit it, Turner. C’mon, I’m all ears. Speak your truth.”
“Okay, okay ,” she dodges another one of Van’s fingers, sheer relief making her giggles sound a little hysterical, “So I’ve heard of them before.”
Van gives her a look.
Fuck, her cheeks are hot again. “Alright, yeah. I’ve heard this album. And their second one. Probably like a million times.”
She’s rewarded for her honesty by Van throwing her head back and laughing, and Tai takes the opportunity to drink in another glance of her pale neck and jawline, committing another bit to memory for later. Of course, that’s once she gets past the painful embarrassment of being caught out in a lie, especially when it’s this .
Van seems to be on the same line of thinking, because once she’s done laughing and cooled off, she looks at Taissa again, a different look in her eyes this time. “So why’d you say you never heard of them? I mean, I get wanting Taylor off your case, but…” she trails off, hunching her shoulders a little.
Tai’s throat is dry. She swallows again for what feels like the fiftieth time in five minutes. She hunches her shoulders back, mirroring Van without meaning to. The album plays on in the background, guitar still strumming on like Tai isn’t having her whole life upended at this moment.
“I just—” she starts, before stopping herself. Nothing really fits quite right. Part of her wants to downplay it all, laugh it off and pretend that Van’s crazy for thinking it’s weirder than it is. But the bigger part of her hates lying to Van like that, pretending when she’s with the only person she can ever be real with. The truth is still daunting, though, and she scrambles trying to think of something to say. She takes a deep breath and tries again. “I just wanted to hang out with you.”
It’s embarrassingly honest, and she feels like her whole face is on fire right after she says it. It’s not the full truth, but it is true. And it’s the only thing she could think of to say. Only now she’s starting to regret how painfully sincere it sounds; so far removed from the calm, cool, and collected Tai she’s used to people perceiving her as. It feels like a century passes while she waits for Van to react.
And… it’s not what she expected. She expected a furrowed brow, maybe a question for clarification, or something. Instead, she watches as Van’s eyes widen slightly, and her mouth drops open a couple centimeters or so; sucking in a quick breath that would be impossible to hear if they already weren't sitting so close to each other. It feels like her heart’s thumping like a bass drum; threatening to jump out of her chest like they do in the cartoons. Her own breath catches when Van moves a little closer.
“I wanted to hang with you, too,” she confesses, and a flush spreads across her own cheeks. It stands out way more on Van’s cheeks, going a deep pink that absorbs some of her lighter freckles. It’s almost impossible for Tai to take her eyes off her face at this point. Van flushes a little more under her gaze, eyes flicking away nervously, before she continues. “You don’t have to make up a reason to hang out with me, you know.”
She seems just as nervous as Tai. It’s a thought that sends a zip down her spine; something that makes her inch just that bit closer, mouth filling with saliva as she tries to reorient herself. She feels both high and sober at the same time. All of the edges around them seem smoother, somehow, and it gives her the confidence to loosen the line of tension in her shoulders.
The bright, happy, strumming guitar comes out of nowhere and breaks their eye contact; the both of them startling back and looking at the stereo. They trade glances, both laughing sheepishly as Tai tries to get her head screwed back on straight.
She could just go back to sitting where she was, enjoying the music and acting like nothing is up, but… well. Van’s still right there. And she hasn’t moved her knee either.
And like… maybe she’s not crazy. Maybe she’s not projecting, maybe she’s not being creepy. Because for a couple seconds there, Van looked like something . She’s still too afraid to label it as anything like interested, but it was definitely something different . And a good kind of different, too, not like the other devastating times she’s accidentally shown her cards too soon.
So maybe that’s what keeps her in orbit; that giddy, restless feeling from before settles deep in her chest and takes root.
Taissa isn’t stupid. She sees that Van is different from other girls, too. But she also knows that sometimes that can mean jack shit in the grand scheme of things. Sometimes girls are tomboys, and then they still grow up and marry boys. It’s not enough to just go off of looks alone.
But no girl has ever looked at her like that . Like, really looked at her. None of the girls she was friendly with back home, and certainly none of the girls she knows now.
Except for Van.
That’s how she justifies staying where she is, fighting past the butterflies gathering in her stomach in favor of not being a coward when it comes to this. Tai’s never backed down from a challenger before, and there’s no way she’s about to start now.
The song ends with little fanfare, sounding louder than it really is in the otherwise silent room. She’s pretty sure Van is holding in her breath during the track changes.
My Finest Hour begins playing, and Taissa is captivated by how close their hands are, both resting on their knees. And I keep hoping you are the same as me , Harriet desperately croons from the stereo, and Taissa just thinks God, I know , before inhaling deep. She’s about to do something crazy.
Slowly but surely she inches her hand close to Van’s, pulse racing in her ears and chest tightening in anticipation. It feels like hours pass until she’s able to extend her pinky, feeling a rush of adrenaline surge through her when she hooks Van’s fingers between her own.
Van jerks, startled, but doesn’t move her pinky away. Just stares at Taissa, wide-eyed, like this is the first time she’s really seeing her. Emboldened, Tai twines their fingers tighter together, until she’s got Van’s entire hand under hers, warm but just as clammy as her own. It’s trembling, slightly. She squeezes it and looks down. Her own hand engulfing Van’s pale, freckled one just looks right . In every way she’s wanted but never let herself have.
When she looks up, Van’s watching her—mouth dropped open again and eyes watching with visible trepidation. Tai counts backwards from ten in her head, trying to slow down her heart rate, trying to summon up the courage of what she’s about to do next. No one says anything, and the silence between them lingers on; mounting and cresting until Taissa feel’s like she’s being choked with it. The Sunday’s play on in the background, innocuous and unaware of the heart-attack Tai is surely about to give herself.
Slowly, she inclines her head. Van doesn’t move. She moves it just a bare inch closer and—Van’s fingers tighten around her own. She can’t even hear the guitar at this point; too consumed with the sound of her own heavy breath in her ears. When she leans forward one more time, she’s rewarded by Van leaning her head down as well.
Without thinking, Tai reaches up her free hand to cup the side of Van;s cheek. She’s slow, telegraphing her movements so there’s no mistaking what she’s about to do. When her palm makes contact with her warm cheek, Van’s eyes slip closed for a second, before opening slowly and searching Taissa’s face. Her nerves are palpable, and it’s the final thing that wipes away the rest of Taissa’s fears. Don’t worry, she wants to say, wants to comfort, I’m not gonna hurt you .
Van leans her cheek into Tai’s palm, eyes flitting back and forth between Taissa’s, trying to seek out an answer she already knows to a question she’s too afraid to ask. Taking the plunge, Taissa gives the corner of her jaw a light stroke with her thumb before leaning in, closing her eyes before she can see if Van’s doing the same.
She’s so nervous that she kisses the side of Van’s mouth first, something soft and not as confrontational. A fraction of a second later Van shifts, aligning their lips to match up perfectly. A proper kiss, one that had Tai parting her lips and exhaling softly, taking the further initiative and leaning in even closer so they were fully connected, their lips dry and parted and sticking for a second. And then it’s like the floodgates have been opened.
She drags her hand out from under Van’s so she can grip the other side of Van’s face, angling her jaw and leaning in deep and getting exactly what she’s been thinking about since she first laid eyes on Van sophomore year. Like a switch has been turned on, the kiss morphs from tentative to all-consuming, both of them opening their mouths at the same time and breathing in each other before diving in. It was like no other kiss she’d had before; kissing and sucking in consistent turns, their lips coming together in sync, the sensual but still somewhat hesitant drag of Van’s warm tongue on her own. It was making her crazy . She had to break from the kiss for a second, gasping in air desperately, before tightening her hands on either side of Van’s face and leaning back in for more.
Van’s arms were wrapped around her forearms, clenching her in a vice grip that only seemed to make her want it more, sending a delicious shiver down her spine that only had her pushing forward even more, gasping against Van’s lips for a second for some much needed oxygen before she tilted her head again, going for another angle and trying to make it last as long as possible.
Taissa didn’t know how long they were sitting there, breathing into each other’s mouths and sucking soft kisses and trading little sighs between them. It felt like both forever and a couple seconds when she finally felt Van pull back slightly, unhooking their mouths from each other and resting her forehead against Tai’s. They both panted quietly, breaths still catching and intermingling with their mouths just centimeters apart. Tai felt like she’d just run a marathon, dizzy with the need to inhale more oxygen. Fuck . A goofy smile spread across her lips, unbidden.
“Okay,” Van breathed after a moment, still clutching on to her forearms, “Um, didn’t expect that one.”
It broke the spell, and had Tai pulling a face, leaning back and raising her eyebrows as high as they could go. She was still cupping Van’s cheeks, and they were rosy and warm. “That’s all you’re gonna say?” she asked, incredulous. An unhinged giggle bubbled out of her chest and throat. “ ‘Didn’t expect that one’ like, seriously?”
“I didn’t!” Van insisted. It wasn’t defensive, though, and there was that mirthful twinkle in her eye that let Taissa know they were on the same page. “Excuse me for not expecting your sneak attack , Turner—I was kind of trying to think of how I could make my own move, thank you very much.”
“Oh yeah?” She leaned back a little further, taking her in. Van’s hair was tousled slightly, and her lips were more red than usual. She looked so good . “You snooze, you lose, I guess.”
When Van shoved her shoulder this time she went with it easily, laughing out loud into the room and feeling lighter than she had in ages. Van just watched her, eyes bright as she chewed on her lower lip, the same one Taissa had had her own in just minutes ago. The thought sent another wave of dizziness. “Of course you would turn this into a competition.”
“What can I say?” She shrugged, trying to twist her mouth into a cooler expression, one that didn’t give her away so easily. Easier said than done. “I play to win.”
“Alright,” Van said easily, way too easily, before using her grip on Taissa;s forearms to tug her even closer. Tai felt a low heat settle in her gut, sending shivers down her spine again. “Well, I demand a rematch. Unless you’re too scared .”
Scared? No. Breathlessly overwhelmed and excited? Yes. She could still see the minute hesitance in Van's expression, the fear that maybe Tai was gonna pull away or put some distance in between them, a rejection that would rock the both of them to the core.
Instead, Tai smoothes her thumbs over Van’s hot cheeks, leaning back in to whisper, “You’re on,” before leaning back in.