Perfect Rhythm Page 13

  She felt and heard Holly settle on the floor next to her.

  “Mine,” Leo mumbled without moving her face away from the little fuzz ball. “Get your own kitten.”

  Holly’s laughter mingled with the soft purring of the tiny cat.

  Leo’s smile felt as if it were about to split her face. “All right,” she murmured into the kitten’s fur. “I admit this is much better than a burger.”

  “Even better than a double-bacon cheeseburger?” Holly reached over to pet the kitten too.

  The brush of their fingers against each other set off a sensual enjoyment of another kind. Leo opened her eyes. “Yeah.” Her voice came out a little raspy, so she stopped and cleared her throat before adding, “Way better.” She cradled the kitten against her chest. “Right, kitten?”

  As if in response, the tiny cat began to knead against her chest.

  “Ouch.” Apparently, kittens at that age already had claws—and they were needle-sharp. “Careful there, that’s my boob.” She tried to move the kitten away from her chest, but its claws were tangled in the fabric of her T-shirt.

  Holly reached over and helped free the kitten’s paw. In the process, her fingers brushed the side of Leo’s breast.

  A shiver raced through her, and her nipple instantly hardened. She lifted the kitten to provide some strategic cover and struggled to calm her breathing. When she peeked over at Holly, she didn’t seem to have noticed the accidental touch, but Leo’s breast was still tingling.

  They sat so close together on the floor that their legs touched all along their lengths.

  “Ready to go?” Holly asked after a while.

  “No.” Leo wasn’t ready to have this experience end so soon, and it wasn’t just because of the kittens and puppies.

  Holly chuckled and picked up another puppy that toddled over to them. “Then let’s stay a little longer.”

  As they left the Maple Street Deli and got back into the Jeep, Holly peered over at Leo, who had chatted about the kittens and puppies pretty much nonstop since they’d left the vet’s office. She still had the broadest grin on her face that Holly had ever seen. Her sneakers were covered in dog slobber, and cat hair was stuck to her T-shirt, but to Holly, she was even more beautiful than she was in her music videos.

  This wasn’t the reserved woman who had arrived in Fair Oaks two weeks ago or the famous singer she had seen on TV. She liked this side of Leo. Getting to see the puppies and kittens was always a highlight of her day, but sharing it with Leo had been extra special.

  “I don’t know which one was more fun—the puppy or the kitten,” Leo said as Holly steered them back onto the highway.

  “Why choose?”

  “Right. They were both lethally cute.” Now more pensive, Leo stared through the windshield. “You know, with all the cities I’ve been to all over the world and everything I’ve seen, can you believe I’ve never petted a puppy or a kitten?”

  “Never?” Holly echoed. “Didn’t you have a pet growing up?”

  “No, never. I always wanted one, but my father thought it would distract me from practicing.”

  “Practicing?”

  “Playing the piano and the violin,” Leo said.

  Gil had denied her the experience of growing up with a pet so she could spend more time practicing his preferred instruments? God. Holly was starting to resent him a little, and that wasn’t good. He was her patient after all. She was responsible for his well-being, not Leo’s. But she couldn’t help it.

  “Well, you could get one now,” she finally said. “In five or six weeks, Happy’s puppies and kittens will be old enough to go to new homes.”

  Leo brushed a few cat hairs off her shirt and watched them swirl through the interior of the Jeep. “I’ll be back in New York by then. Besides, with me traveling for concerts and interviews all the time, it wouldn’t be fair to the poor animal.”

  Both were silent for the rest of the ride, their good mood dampened.

  When Leo had first arrived in Fair Oaks, Holly couldn’t wait to have her leave again. But now she hated the reminder that Leo wasn’t here to stay. She would miss having someone to talk to and share scones with. Sure, she had other friends in town, but somehow, spending time with Leo was different.

  All too soon, she stopped the Jeep in front of Gil and Sharon’s house and turned off the engine.

  Instead of getting out immediately, Leo kept staring through the windshield. Finally, she turned her head, and a hint of the carefree smile from earlier flashed across her face. “Thank you for getting me a burger and especially for taking me to see the puppies and kittens. It wasn’t what I was expecting when you picked me up, but it has my usual dates beaten by a mile.”

  Holly started to smile, but then the full meaning of Leo’s words hit home. Wait a minute! Usual dates… Did that mean Leo considered their little adventure a date? She knew she should speak up and tell her that it wasn’t, that she wasn’t into dating, just in case Leo might be thinking in that direction. That was how she had handled her friendships with women during the past few years, and she had found that drawing clear boundaries was always better in the long run.

  Then why was she just sitting behind the wheel, gaping like a catfish?

  Before she could make her vocal cords work, Leo said “good night” and got out of the Jeep. Only the banging of the car door jarred Holly out of her frozen state.

  “Leo, wait!”

  But Leo apparently didn’t hear her. She was already walking toward the house, her long legs quickly widening the distance between them.

  Holly let her forehead sink onto the steering wheel, closed her eyes, and let out a long groan.

  Chapter 10

  Once again, Leo lay in bed and listened to the concert of the crickets drifting in through the closed window. Staring at her childhood posters was starting to become a habit, but this time, it wasn’t brooding thoughts about her father or her career that kept her awake.

  She kept reliving every second of her evening with Holly, especially the smiles and the little touches—Holly’s hand on the small of her back, guiding her into the room with the puppies and kittens; the brush of their fingers; the warmth of Holly’s leg against hers; the accidental touch of her breast.

  Each contact had set off instant tingles all over her body. There was no denying it: She was attracted to Holly, and it wasn’t just a physical thing. Admittedly, she also liked the mischievous twinkle in Holly’s eyes, her genuine warmth, and the fact that she didn’t let Leo get away with anything. Even the fact that Holly didn’t seem to want anything from her—not her money, her connections, and not even her body—was part of her appeal.

  But had she meant what she had said earlier, in the Jeep? She had thrown out the comment about her usual dates without thinking. So far, she hadn’t consciously considered it. Holly lived in Fair Oaks after all, the town Leo wanted to get away from, and Leo had no time for a relationship anyway.

  Relationship? Whoa! How had she gone from one possible date to a bona fide relationship? She really was getting ahead of herself. Maybe she should take it one day at a time.

  One date wasn’t a marriage proposal, even in small-town Missouri. Holly’s brothers would hardly get out their shotgun and drag her to church because she went out with their sister once or twice. It was just a pleasant way to while away the time during her stay in Fair Oaks. Nothing more, nothing less, right?

  Right. She nodded into the darkness. That was decided, then. She would ask Holly out to dinner. Nothing to it.

  But then why could she still not settle her chaotic thoughts enough to sleep?

  A few days later, on Monday afternoon, they went out for another run together…although, admittedly, there wasn’t that much running involved. Holly leaned back on her elbows. The flat rock beneath her was still warm from the heat of the day, and the relaxing murmur of the
creek lulled her into a peaceful trance. Despite her not-always-easy job, this summer was starting to feel like the endless summers of her childhood, when there had been no responsibilities and no pressures and a new adventure had waited around every corner.

  The only difference was that this time, she wasn’t spending her summer alone or tagging along after her brothers.

  She peeked at Leo, who was reclining next to her. She had kicked off her shoes and socks and dangled her feet in the creek. Every now and then, she wiggled her toes or lazily waved her hand to chase off the bees buzzing around her ice cream. She was starting to get a nice tan from spending more time in the sun than she had in years, and the highlights in her windblown hair were real, no longer out of a bottle. It looked really good on her, Holly decided.

  Something cold trickled onto Holly’s fingers. She jerked her attention away from Leo and back to her own ice cream cone, which hung forgotten in her grip. Quickly, she licked the melted chocolate off her fingers.

  “You know,” Leo said without opening her eyes, “you’re a really bad influence.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you. First, you get me addicted to the scones. Now you buy me ice cream. My manager, my personal trainer, and my nutritionist will hate you.”

  Holly shrugged and took another lick of her ice cream. “They’re not here now, are they?”

  “No, they’re not. It’s just the two of us.”

  There was something in Leo’s tone that made Holly peer at her again, but she couldn’t read the expression on her face.

  Leo opened her eyes and took one foot out of the water so she could half-turn and look at her. “Um, talking about food and the two of us…” She lowered her long lashes and picked a piece of clover that grew between the rocks before peeking back up. “Would you go to dinner with me sometime this week?”

  Holly’s pulse quickened. “Dinner?” she repeated, to give herself time to think.

  “Yeah, you know, the meal people usually eat in the evening.” Leo’s lips curled into a smile.

  It was almost the same thing Holly had teased her with when they had talked about breakfast almost two weeks ago, so Holly replied with the same words too. “Thanks for the expert definition, Ms. Merriam-Webster. I know what it is. But what kind of dinner are we talking about?”

  Was Leo trying to ask her out, or was she talking about a dinner between friends? For the millionth time in her life, she wished she were better at judging potentially romantic situations.

  “Well,” Leo said, “there isn’t exactly much to choose from in town, but how about Tasty Barn? Do they still serve some Mexican food?”

  “Um, yeah, but…that wasn’t what I meant.” Was Leo deliberately pretending not to understand what she was asking? “Is this about two friends grabbing some food together or…?”

  Leo pulled her other foot out of the water too. Her gaze searched Holly’s face. “Would it be okay if it was a date?”

  She looked so cute, so earnest and vulnerable that Holly answered without thinking. “Yes. I mean…no. No, Leo, I…”

  She stopped herself, sat up, and forced fresh air into her lungs. Jesus, how could a simple question turn her inside out like this? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t rejected anyone before. She tried to convince herself that it was better for both of them in the long run, but saying the words was still hard. “I’m sorry. I can’t go out with you.”

  A flash of hurt crossed Leo’s face before it turned into the reserved mask Holly had seen in the beginning. “Can’t?” She sounded as if she was speaking through clenched teeth. “Or don’t want to?”

  That was a question Holly didn’t want to examine too closely. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I know it sounds trite, but it’s not you. It’s me.”

  Leo let out a groan. “That is trite. It’s usually what women say when they’re either straight or think I’m a conceited, shallow celebrity—someone to lust after from afar, not someone to date for real.”

  Her voice got rougher with every word.

  Impulsively, Holly reached out to squeeze her hand or put it on Leo’s knee but then realized it would send mixed messages, so she withdrew and put her hand in her own lap. “I don’t think that about you. You know that, right?”

  “But you’re not straight. You do date women.”

  “I don’t date anyone. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

  A frown wrinkled Leo’s brow. “Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on Ashley.”

  Holly barked out a nervous laugh. “No. Definitely not.”

  “Then it really is me.” Leo lowered her gaze to a tuft of clover. “I’m not your type.”

  “That’s just it, Leo. I don’t have a type. At least not the way you think.”

  “Okay.” Leo drew out the word in a way that made it obvious that she had no clue what Holly meant.

  Holly sighed. Coming out as asexual hadn’t been on her list of relaxing things to do on her afternoon off, but she didn’t want a rejection to stand between them. She had come to appreciate their friendship too much to lie, even by omission.

  Eating the remainder of her ice cream gave her a moment to collect herself. When the last crumb of cone was gone, she clutched her bare legs to her chest and gazed at Leo over her drawn-up knees. God, why was this so much harder than coming out as a lesbian?

  Finally, she just blurted it out. “I’m ace.”

  She wasn’t sure what response she had expected, but certainly not the crooked grin that spread across Leo’s face.

  “Oh yeah,” Leo drawled with the husky voice that had won her three Grammys. “You sure are. Totally awesome.”

  “No, I mean, I’m asexual.”

  “Asexual?” Leo repeated it syllable by syllable. “What does that mean?”

  Oh boy. Maybe that was what made coming out as asexual so much harder. Telling someone she was a lesbian didn’t require a half-hour education session.

  “It means…” She glanced down and watched as she turned the black ace ring around and around on her right middle finger. “It means that I’m not sexually attracted to anyone.”

  Leo stared at her, the last bit of ice cream cone apparently forgotten in her hand. “Wait… Are you saying you don’t like sex?”

  “Not exactly. I’m saying I don’t want sex.”

  A gust of air escaped Leo’s lungs in an audible puff. “You don’t want sex? Never? With anyone?”

  The look of disbelief on her face made Holly laugh. “There are more important things in life, you know?”

  “Yeah, but when it’s really good, sex can be mind-blowing.” She rolled her eyes skyward and fanned herself with both hands.

  “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  Leo slowly shook her head back and forth. “Have you always been like this? I mean, this isn’t because something happened to you…is it?”

  She looked so tortured by the thought that Holly did reach out to squeeze her hand for a moment. “No. The most traumatic thing that happened to me as a kid was when my brothers put a frog into my slippers.”

  Her exaggerated shudder broke the tension between them, and they laughed with each other.

  “Anyway,” Holly said after the laughter had faded away, “it doesn’t work like that. Asexuality isn’t a result of some trauma. It’s a sexual orientation, just like being a lesbian.”

  Leo still looked as if she had trouble wrapping her head around it. Maybe an analogy would help.

  “It’s a little like chocolate,” Holly said.

  “Chocolate?” Leo repeated, her tone doubtful.

  “Bear with me. So, some people like dark chocolate. Some like milk chocolate. And some like white chocolate.”

  Leo grimaced. “I don’t consider that white stuff chocolate.”

  “Me neither, but you’re destroying my beautiful, w
ell-thought-out analogy.”

  “Sorry. You were saying?”

  “There are also some people who like all kinds of chocolate.”

  “People with bad taste,” Leo muttered. When Holly glared playfully, she made a zipping motion across her lips with her thumb and forefinger.

  “And last but not least, there are a couple of people who don’t like any type of chocolate.”

  Leo snorted. “Come on. Who doesn’t like chocolate?”

  “Me,” Holly said quietly and held her gaze.

  “You don’t like chocolate? Um, excuse me, then what’s that?” Leo pointed at something on Holly’s cheek, probably a smear of the chocolate ice cream she had just eaten.

  “No. I mean, yes, I do like chocolate, but…” She rubbed her eyes. Jeez, she was making a mess of things, confusing Leo even more. “Look, all I’m saying is that this,” she waved at herself, “is the way I was born—redheaded, crooked-toed, and asexual.”

  Leo seemed to consider that for a while. “Your toes are cute,” she finally said.

  Holly stared down at them. “They’re crooked.”

  “But in a cute way.” With a tiny splash, Leo’s feet landed back in the creek. She swirled them through the water while she lay back and stared at the sky, her forehead crinkled as if deeply in thought. “If you’re not attracted to anyone, why were you with Ash?”

  “I said I’m not sexually attracted to anyone. There are other types of attraction, you know? For you, they’re probably all aligned, but I can fall in love with a woman or appreciate her beauty without wanting to jump her bones.”

  Leo folded her arms behind her head. “Hmm, that makes sense. Kind of. Is that why you’re still calling yourself a lesbian? Because you are attracted to women, just not sexually?”

  “Yeah.” Holly quirked a smile. “Plus calling myself a homoromantic asexual would get me nothing but puzzled looks.” Like the one Leo was giving her right now. Poor woman.