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For most, the start of a new month meant a collection of fairly mundane experiences and for Jade Claymore it was no different, save for maybe the amount of comfort she took in the steady routine.
Rent was due. That meant a handwritten paper check for the oddball that was her landlord, no matter how many times she offered to help the older woman set up an online payment system. She slipped it through the ornate mail slot in Ms. Prunella’s door on her way out of the apartment building.
At work, there were dock slip renewals to process. Fishing licenses as well. Clamming. No idea why fishing and clamming required different licenses but that was capitalism for you.
And of course, not specific to the first of the month but nearly as consistent, was the receipt of payment for any fines given to Mr. Kase.
“Had to be less than a dozen,” the white-haired gentleman grumbled as he set the crumpled ticket on the counter, along with a number of equally crumpled bills.
“It’s too early to be digging in the beds, Mr. Kase,” she reminded him, like she had the last two Springs. “They’re not big enough yet.”
“Ones I raked up were plenty big enough,” he replied, like he always did. Jade shook her head, wondering, like always, why the man insisted on paying a fifty dollar fine for something he could get for 9.99 at the local market.
“It gives him something to do,” was all her boss, Ballantine, would offer.
A new month meant there were new specials at the café she often visited for lunch. She always ordered the same sandwich and bag of chips, but she got a kick out of reading what new creations were printed out in neat, bubbly block font on the chalkboard. And the good-natured attempts of the cashier, Mims, to get her to try one.
“Black olives, ricotta, mozzarella, and anchovies on Italian bread. It’s really good.”
The last thing Jade wanted after spending most of the day at the harbor office, was anything remotely tasting of fish. “I’ll pass.”
Mims gave an exaggerated sigh, but her bright smile kept her cheeks full. “The usual then?”
“Yes, please. Thanks.”
The rest of the afternoon at work was spent out on the docks, checking the slips and the pillars. Troubleshooting engine issues or rigging problems. Helping to raise or lower main sails for a few folks who needed the assistance. A lot of standing around and chatting because that, Jade had learned in the last three years, was how things went in a sleepy little town on the coast.
On the way home from work, she stopped in at the tiny post office attached to the equally tiny library to check her mailbox. Inside was the slim monthly magazine she’d been receiving since Scorpia had first gifted her the subscription as a freshman in college.
As always, she was deeply thankful for the discrete envelope it was packaged in as she removed it from the box. Still, knowing the contents beneath the plain brown paper was enough to have the tips of Jade’s ears burning, a reaction she vaguely resented.
Jade was twenty-four for fuckssake. Too old to be blushing over a bit of adult literature.
Nothing to be done about it though, save give a quick nod to Lachlan at the desk and slip out as nonchalantly as possible.
Really, she ought to cancel the subscription, she thought for the millionth time as she walked the short way back to her apartment. She’d kept it originally because the relationship with her sister had been so new and it had seemed like a thoughtful, if embarrassing gift.
Plus, freshman year had been… lonely. Jade could admit it. It’s not like she hadn’t dated at all. It’s just that college dating had mostly been parties and parties had mostly involved a lot of drinking and when you didn’t really drink, it ended up being a lot of awkward standing around trying to find someone you wanted to sleep with.
A lot of effort for something she could do better and faster on her own.
It’s not like things were particularly lively at the moment either. And the pictures in the magazine were tasteful. More artsy than pornographic. Enough so that she never felt bad admiring them.
Keeping the subscription would be like… supporting the arts.
With that reasoning fixed in her mind, a few hours later, with the door to her apartment firmly closed and locked behind her, Jade reclined on her comfortable couch and pulled the thin booklet free from the envelope. It slipped through her fingers, tumbling to the floor, and when she leaned over to pick it up, she blinked in stunned surprise.
Looking up from the centerfold was a pair of sparkling blue eyes she hadn’t seen since senior year of high school, when Kit Tanthalos had occupied both the seat in homeroom in front and to the left of her and nearly every other corner of Jade’s mind.
Only even in the height of summer there had never been so much Kit to see. Jade’s gaze trailed unthinkingly down and across the left-hand page, catching on the tiny swatches of perfectly matched blue lace that were really just too much.
Jade abruptly flipped the magazine closed and blew out a long, slow breath.
Definitely time to cancel the subscription.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, the image seemed to have been burned into Jade’s mind, taking up all the space usually reserved for everyday tasks. She had written Kit Tanthalos as the date on an application for the fifth time the next day when Ballantine stuck his head out of the small office behind the counter.
“Hey kid. There’s a daysailer headed in. Can you run out and log them in?”
Jade frowned as she rubbed her eraser vigorously over the paper in front of her. “There aren’t any slips free. We’re booked all summer.”
“It’s slip 27.” It looked as if there was more he was going to say but the trill of his phone had him leaning back out of sight.
Jade’s frown deepened as she dutifully grabbed the ancient notebook that served as the dock log and headed out. In the last three years she had met every single boat owner who rented a berth, except for whoever had spot 27. There had never been a boat moored there but Ballantine insisted that it be left open. Her pace increased as her curiosity was piqued. Ballantine was not one to usually make exceptions.
As she strode along the dock, she could see a small sailboat curving towards the harbor, its blue and green sail shifting slowly out of full wind. Whoever was on the rudder guided it expertly through the breakwater, slowing it further. When she reached the end of the pier, Jade scurried down the ladder into the inflatable dingy owned by the marina and, after releasing the mooring lines, fired up the motor and throttled out to meet the newcomer.
They were drawing down the main sail and were hidden from Jade’s view as she drew up alongside the hull. She cut the engine to drift the last few feet.
“Need any help?” she offered as the grey rubber of the dingy bumped into glassy white fiberglass.
In the sail, the shadow of the figure paused its smooth motions. “Jade? Jade Claymore?” asked a voice she was sure she would recognize anywhere.
No way. What the fuck were the odds?
Sure enough, as if summoned by the adult magazine, Kit Tanthalos popped her head around the flagging sail and grinned, as wide and cocky as Jade remembered. “Holy shit, it is you! Hey!”
Wondering if she had somehow progressed to full-on hallucinations and feeling very much like she was seventeen again, Jade couldn’t help but smile back. “Hey yourself.”
She was most certainly not hallucinating, which she confirmed three seconds later when Kit reached across the small gap between their vessels for a hug that had both of them wobbling precariously. “Shit, sorry,” Kit apologized as she drew back, grin still in place. “But it’s so good to see you! How the hell are you? What are you doing here? Do you live here? What the fuck?”
What the fuck indeed. Jade tried to reacquaint herself with the full force of Kit’s attention while she decided which of the barrage of questions to answer first.
“I’m apprentice to the harbormaster. I’m here to log in your boat.”
“Cool. What do you need from me? Boat license?”
“Please.”
When Kit turned and reached down into the small cabin, Jade’s brain helpfully noted the cut off tee-shirt and denim shorts she was wearing. And how much skin they showed off. Not as much as—
Not now, she firmly berated herself, lifting her eyes up toward the top of the mast and the rainbow flag that snapped gleefully in the breeze.
“Here you go.” Kit held out a document in a waterproof sleeve.
Jade took it and jotted down the appropriate information in the logbook, all the while acutely aware of Kit’s gaze on her.
“How long have you been doing this?” Kit asked when Jade handed the license back.
“It’s my third summer. I started right out of college.”
“Where’d you end up going to school?”
“RAC.”
“Oh, cool.”
Their conversation lulled, replaced by the sound of waves splashing quietly against the boat and gulls squawking overhead. There were a million questions Jade wanted to ask but standing on an inflatable raft hardly seemed like the place for them.
“Sorry I just bombarded you,” Kit said suddenly, running a hand through her dark hair, pushing it off her forehead. “The last time I saw you was—”
Right after your dad died, Jade finished silently when Kit trailed off. “Yeah. How … uh, how are you doing? How’s Airk and your mom?”
Kit shrugged, even as a flash of discomfort raced across her face. “Okay. It was a little touch and go there for a while, but it’s been better the last year or so.”
Jade nodded, familiar with the shaky ground of grief. She’d run across it herself years ago. “Are you still in the city?”
“Yep. Had to get away for a few days.”
Jade raised her brows in question. “You know there’s a ferry, right? It’s an hour and half crossing.”
“Yeah. Wanted to take dad’s boat out.”
The breeze picked up, dragging a cool wash of sea air over them, and Jade realized the sun was starting to hang low on the horizon. She glanced down at her watch; shift was almost over.
“We should head in,” she pointed out reluctantly. “You have any bags or anything?”
Kit reached back into the cabin again and came up with a light duffle. Jade transferred it over while Kit double checked the sail lines were tied down and the anchor set before climbing into the dingy. For a second, Jade hoped a stray wave might unsteady Kit’s feet enough to knock them into each other again, but the moment of transit passed with only their hands catching long enough for Kit to settle her balance. Then Jade cranked the motor again and cruised them back in the direction of the dock, feeling as if she were letting an opportunity slide through her fingers.
“What time are you finished here?” Kit called over the churn of the engine. The last rays of sun fell onto her as she lifted her face to the wind. It whipped her hair back from her face in a roguishly enticing way and Jade’s heart gave a little sigh in her chest. Kit Tanthalos would have made a hell of a pirate.
And Jade had always had a thing for pirates.
“About now,” she said, hopeful.
“You want to grab a drink or something? I’d love to catch up more.”
Jade thought of the myriad of bars and restaurants on the main street and the bevy of out-of-towners that were probably already lining up for them.
“I actually don’t live too far from here. I guarantee it’ll be a lot quieter than one of the bars. We just started tourist season,” Jade explained.
Kit turned her eyes back to Jade. “Lead the way.”
It wasn’t until Jade turned back toward the couch, two Cokes in hand, and found herself facing a Kit wearing a shit-eating grin that she remembered the magazine she’d tossed down onto the coffee table.
The magazine that was currently fanning back and forth in Kit’s hand.
“Let me guess,” Kit began, both eyebrows lifted and bright white teeth showing, “you read it for the articles.”
Feeling like she had dunked her entire head into a pool of lava, Jade ruthlessly throttled down on the urge to flee from the room. It was her apartment after all.
“As a matter of fact,” she replied with every scrap of tattered dignity she could gather as she set Kit’s drink down on a coaster in front of her, “there is an excellent profile on the work of a local LGBTQ shelter.”
Kit’s answering laugh was low and throaty, even more appealing than it had been at seventeen.
“How are you the one that’s embarrassed when I’m the one with nudie photos?” she mused.
It took no effort at all to recall miles of smooth, pale skin sprawled enticingly across dark, glossy sheets. “You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about,” Jade protested, wincing when the supportive tone she meant to put into her voice veered sharply into appreciation.
Kit winked. “I know.” She roared again with laughter when Jade pressed her hands to her face in a vain attempt to cool her flaming cheeks. “Relax, I’m teasing! I know you’ve never been interested in me like that, despite my best efforts.”
Jade’s hands dropped like stones. “I’m sorry, what?”
Continuing as if she hadn’t heard, Kit shook her head ruefully. “I still can’t believe I joined cross-country just for an excuse to watch your field hockey practices. I hate running. And those tiny shorts. Fuck.”
Jade had the sensation of leaning back in her chair, up onto the two legs, almost falling over, and then catching herself at the last second. “What?” she repeated.
Kit chuckled, but with a touch less confidence and the first hints of doubt. “Oh, come on. I know Airk told you. Right?”
“What exactly did Airk tell me?”
“That I had the biggest gay crush on you?”
“Really?” Jade blurted out.
It was Kit’s turn to slap a hand against her face, her eyes scrunching as she peered between her fingers. “Well, shit. Now you’ve got to tell me something. I’m 2-0 in terms of mortifying info with you.”
Jade laughed, a quick breathless thing, as warmth began to travel up from her toes. “I mean, I’m the one with the magazine, right? So, more like 2-1,” she reasoned, leaving out the part where she had scrawled “KT+JC” on countless notebooks over a four-year period. Too early to let that cat out of the bag.
Besides, it was nice, for the moment, to finally have one up on Kit. In every interaction she recalled from high school she had felt like a fumbling mess.
She could tell by the look that graced Kit’s face, it probably wouldn’t last long. “True. What does your partner think of your choice in reading materials?”
Jade gave a bump of her shoulders. “Not dating anyone at the moment, actually,” she offered casually. Or, what she hoped was casually.
Kit appeared the picture of innocence as she replied, “Oh?”
Feeling like she was quickly losing her upper hand, Jade pivoted. “So, when was it exactly that Airk supposedly shared this earth-shattering news with me?” she wondered.
Kit’s expression darkened and Jade started to apologize for touching a nerve. But it cleared as quickly as it had come. “Oh, we had a big fight right before prom. It was one of the things he threw out at me.”
“What was the fight about?”
Kit pursed her lips in thought. “I actually don’t remember now,” she admitted, then gave a quick shrug. “But the next day I heard you were going with Graydon Hastur to prom, and I figured it was a sign.”
Jade laughed as she remembered. “I went with Graydon because I was there when he asked Elora, and she told him she was going with Airk. Never seen someone so heartbroken. He spent the whole time staring wistfully at her and I spent the whole time—" she bit her lip and stopped.
“—spent the whole time what?” Kit prompted.
Winning was overrated. “Looking for you,” Jade finished with a smile, hoping she hadn’t misread anything.
Kit tipped her head to one side thoughtfully. “I packed that lingerie set.”
Jade moved without a second thought. She couldn’t remember exactly how many afternoons she had spent daydreaming about what it would be like to kiss Kit but she was certain every single one of them paled in comparison to the real thing. Lips warm and firm beneath hers, pressing back with an enthusiasm that matched her own. Jade pushed forward and Kit pushed back, leading to a stalemate of movement in the center of the couch.
“For the record, I went to every one of your meets,” Jade breathed out when they both pulled back to take nearly identical short inhales.
Their noses pressed together. “Yeah?” Kit asked and Jade could hear the grin in her voice, even if she didn’t shift an inch to see it.
“Yeah,” she echoed back. “So, 3-2, really.”
“Let’s call it even,” Kit suggested and that sounded perfect to Jade. She had a moment to think her couch was too small for what she had in mind before Kit rolled them off the edge. Her back hit the floor and a quiet “oof” escaped her, but the minor thump of pain was quickly overshadowed by the way Kit ended up straddled across her hips.
“Shit, sorry! You okay?”
“Never better,” Jade asserted, reaching up to pull Kit’s face back to hers.
Later on, after Jade had discovered how much better it was to be in the room when Kit’s clothes came off, and they lay tangled and heated among her soft, cotton sheets, Jade stroked her fingers along Kit’s lean, bare back and wondered aloud,
“I can’t believe you sailed into my harbor.”
“I sure did,” Kit snickered into her shoulder. Jade rolled her eyes and ruffled a hand through her hair, chuckling when Kit reached up immediately to fix the damage.
“Seriously. I mean, what were the odds?” she mused, voicing her earlier thoughts.
“Mmmhmmm,” was Kit’s only reply.
Which sounded oddly… guilty. Her eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute.”
She felt the distractingly soft touch of Kit’s lips against the skin of her throat. “You want to go again?”
Jade pulled back far enough to see Kit cringing. “You knew I was here, didn’t you?” she realized when Kit’s eyes darted away. “How?”
Kit propped herself up on an elbow. “Uh, so Ballantine sent my mom a Christmas card last year.”
Jade flipped through her memory and winced. “The one with the ugly sweaters?” she asked, unable to hide her dismay. Kit nodded.
“Yep. I’ve uh… been planning this trip since then.”
Shaking her head, full of affection, Jade drew Kit close again. “Hope you’ve got a second wind in you.”