who is that girl i see?
Dani stands at the edge of the kitchen counter, cutting up vegetables for supper. She is surrounded by the hushed chatter of a patchwork family trying very hard not to mourn the pulled stitch from one of their own.
They are not doing very well. Owen is on their minds, on their lips, sprinkled throughout the conversation like salt. Guilt has been pooling low in Dani’s spine all day for two reasons: not attending the funeral and Eddie.
The former is only made tighter for the latter. If it hadn’t been for that last funeral, she could have gone just fine. If he wasn’t haunting her reflection, clinging tight to her bones and plucking the breath from her lungs whenever she gets too close to anything resembling moving on , she might not feel guilty at all.
Dani shakes her head clear. Tries to think of something else. Settles on multitasking because she is fully capable of doing two things at once.
So: she stands at the kitchen counter cutting vegetables for supper and adoring Jamie.
Eyes tracing the shape of her lips, the furrow of her brow, that tilted smirk and her skinny fingers pulling her earrings off right there at the table. Something heavy floods through her skin. Not that dark, dark shroud that accompanies the whisper of Eddie’s hands at her waist, but something easier. Cleaner.
( she is thinking, particularly, of her bedroom that morning: those fingers on her skin and the zip of her dress and, my , hadn’t that been staggering? )
There is supposed to be guilt edging along the lines of the way Jamie makes her feel. She is sure of it. But, instead, there is nothing but paralyzing fondness and, perhaps—if honesty is something she is allowing herself to taste on edge of her breath—a low humming thrill of arousal at the way Jamie catches her gaze.
“You’re not subtle, love,” Jamie says after enduring a decent amount of time under Dani’s enraptured eyes.
Dani flummoxes. In her mind, Jamie is pressing her into her bed and skimming a hand down her ribs.
She opens her mouth to apologize, feeling caught and embarrassed for having been staring, but Jamie doesn’t give her the chance. She simply leans her elbows on the counter, so near the cutting board, and smiles.
“Weren’t you meant to be relaxing?”
“I-I was,” says Dani, trying to form an excuse that makes sense. “Earlier.”
“But you’re not now.”
Dani has never seen someone smirk so seriously before.
She shakes her head. “No...I’m not, I’m…”
For the life of her, she’s forgotten every verb that might end that sentence. She shakes the knife in her hand for effect instead of trying too hard. Jamie’s nose scrunches in pure delight.
“I see that.” Her eyes dart over to inspect Hannah and the children, who are talking lowly amongst themselves. She watches them for a long moment, during which Dani feels strung up, suspended in time, and then looks back at Dani. “So…” she starts, and her voice is pitched soft and low.
Dani leans forward instinctively, simultaneously trying to be near enough to hear and also simply desperate to be closer . “Yeah?”
Jamie’s expression shifts into something that Dani can’t quite fathom. As Dani watches, she takes a deep breath and holds it in for a few seconds before slowly letting it out. The set of her shoulders changes, hiking up and becoming stronger. Taller. Finally, she says:
“I believe I owe you some consequences then, do I not?”
And the way she says it leaves almost nothing to the imagination. Despite the loud ringing sound in Dani’s ears, she recognizes the question for what it truly is: an invitation or, better yet, a request for permission.
And maybe it shouldn’t, but all that floods through her at this realization is the electric surge of coming truly alive . There is no part of her that is snagged on the reeds and Jamie has been all she’s thought about since she first laid eyes on her. She has counted their time together not in hours or days, but in magnetic pull between them that she is terrible at fighting.
Give in , she thinks; and so she listens.
So she nods. She says with parted lips and caught breath five simple words: “Yes. I guess you do.”
________
In the long hallway leading to the schoolroom, on the other side of the house, is a half-bath. Dani’s only been inside it one time—with Flora after they’d been finger painting a few days back and needed to wash their hands—and she doesn’t actually realize that this is where she’s being led until the door is open and Jamie is dragging her inside.
She’s too focused on the thrumming heat in the low of her stomach, the soft cling of Jamie’s fingers around her wrist, her own pumping heart.
Once she’s inside, she remembers the size of the place and Jamie seems to as well, looking around quickly before meeting Dani’s eyes again. There’s a question in her expression that she doesn’t need to ask for Dani to understand. This is certainly unprecedented and it’s almost reassuring to see Jamie just as unsure as she feels. Just as nervous.
This isn’t something either of them has ever done. She understands this so clearly it cuts through the cloud of fog rattling loosely in her veins and muscles.
With a flush of courage, Dani reaches around Jamie and pulls the bathroom door shut, clicking the lock into place. When she looks back up, Jamie’s eyes are wide, lips slightly parted, just as surprised by the action as Dani herself is.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Dani teases, rolling her eyes. “Who the hell knew?”
Jamie chuckles. “You know something?” she asks.
“What?”
“You’re incredibly gorgeous when you’re being cheeky.”
Dani’s breath catches. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Jamie takes a step forward and Dani doesn’t move back. Her skirt sways against the fabric of Dani’s jeans and she’s close enough that their breath is mingling in this completely strange and intoxicating way. “Also, all the time.”
“Oh,” whispers Dani.
“Yeah,” whispers Jamie.
“You’re really...Wow, you’re so...pretty, Jamie, it’s like— I don’t know how to—”
“Poppins,” Jamie cuts in.
Dani splutters to a stop, letting out a mess of sounds that sounds like, “Yeah-huh?”
“I’m gonna kiss you now, assuming you’re okay with that.”
Right .
“Yeah, yeah.” A few too many nods, like her head is going to wobble off her neck. “So okay. That’s—”
Jamie kisses her.
The first thing Dani does is gasp against Jamie’s lips because, even if the kiss is relatively chaste—even if Jamie is only cupping Dani’s face in her hands—she is certain this is the worst fever her skin has ever known. Jamie lips are a bit waxy from the lipstick, but are so soft despite this. She tastes like spearmint and Dani thrills to imagine her popping a mint in the minutes between their agreement and actually being able to slip out of the kitchen unnoticed.
Her eyes are still open and she can see that Jamie’s are not, that her brow is furrowed in concentration, like she’s been planning this for a long time and is just trying to get it right. Up close, her eyelashes are the loveliest thing Dani’s ever seen, tied with the gentle curls of her hair falling into her face.
She’s so distracted by all of this that she completely forgets to kiss Jamie back.
The whole thing can’t have lasted for more than a handful of seconds, but Dani is breathless all the same when Jamie pulls away. Her lipstick is smudged a bit, but not terribly. If Dani were brave enough to look into the mirror, she’s certain she’d see some of it messily painting her own mouth.
“Poppins,” Jamie whispers and Dani instinctively takes a step towards her, “you want this right?”
“Yes. Yeah. I want this, Jamie.” She reaches out a hand and hooks it around Jamie’s left hip.
Jamie frowns. “You sure? ’Cause it felt like you—”
“I just...I was a little caught off guard.” Dani leans in and rests her forehead against Jamie’s, their lips brushing as she says this next part: “I’m sure.”
A moment of hesitation where Jamie looks her over as best she can without pulling away, and then gentle relief shimmers in her eyes. “Thank fuck ,” she says and it’s Dani who leans in and kisses her instead.
She brings one of her hands up to cup Jamie’s cheek, cold fingers against pressed velvet. The tip of her middle finger brushes against Jamie’s ear and there’s a strange intimacy in that. Dani doesn’t think she’s ever touched someone’s ear before.
Jamie sighs into the next kiss, tilting her head to give Dani more access. She parts her lips and lets Dani lick against her tongue, lets herself be pressed back against the door. Her palms come up to rest flat against Dani’s shoulder blades, and then one of her hands moves to the back of Dani’s neck as she captures Dani’s bottom lip gently between her teeth.
“Dani,” Jamie sighs, scraping her blunt fingernails against the base of Dani’s scalp, “this wasn’t the plan.”
Dani hums. Flicks her tongue against the back of Jamie’s teeth then says, “What wasn’t?” She’s pretty proud of herself for how lucid the question sounds, how unphased, considering that she’s actively biting back the urge to grind into the other woman.
Jamie ducks her head down, pressing a kiss to Dani’s pulse and then dragging her lips up to the bend of her jaw. “I believe,” she repeats in a whisper, a sharp reminder of that conversation in the kitchen, “I owe you some consequences, do I not?”
Right.
Dani can only nod at this because it’s like every single muscle in her body is fit to snap. All she wants to do is grab one of Jamie’s hands and shove it between her legs already, fuck herself on it. But she still has her manners.
“What do you—” she begins, but has to stop to swallow, her throat too dry to continue at first. “What did you have in mind?”
Jamie has her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her fingers still stroking through Dani’s hair. She smirks. There’s something mischievous glinting in her eyes, primal and unfamiliar and oh-so-thrilling. “Turn around,” she commands.
Dani shivers, stepping away and turning slowly to face the sink.
At once, Jamie’s hands are on her hips, pushing her forward a bit more until Dani is thrusting out her hands to grip the edges of the porcelain in order to stay upright. Above her is the mirror and she doesn’t look at it because she is scared to do so for so many reasons but mainly this one: she is certain that if she looks at her own reflection, she will not recognize the person staring back at her. And this is a miracle she knows has already occurred—that has been occurring since Jamie walked into the kitchen for the first time—but she’s too focused on this —on Jamie’s hands on her hips, gripping them firmly—to deal with it right now.
“This alright?” Jamie asks, tentative and soft.
Asking for permission again.
Dani gives it to her in the form of pressing back against her until Jamie gasps at the sensation. “Yes,” she says, and then, “ Touch me .”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Steady hands smooth up Dani’s sides, pressing against her like she’s being memorized as they go. One of them continues its journey up, fingertips slipping into the neck of Dani’s t-shirt to lightly brush against her collarbone. The other one dips back down and presses against her stomach, inching down and down. All the while, Jamie is pressed into her from behind, her breath puffing out, brushing through Dani’s hair.
“You’re lovely, y’know,” Jamie says, that hand at the top moving over to brush Dani’s hair over her other shoulder, exposing her neck. She leans in and Dani can’t help but whimper when she feels lips brush against her ear. “It’s unreal.”
A hand fumbles at her belt. Dani bites back a moan to say, “I think the—The same thing about you.” The next thing she does is laugh because— “This certainly doesn’t feel like a punishment, you know.”
Jamie tugs up Dani’s t-shirt, untucking it, and runs the pads of her fingers across her abdomen. “Who said anything about a punishment?” Lips at her neck; Dani shutting her eyes and gripping the edges of the sink tight . “I said consequences.” Her belt is being undone now, Jamie’s fingers moving deftly even with the position. “That is...You didn’t relax today—” Jamie presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the hinge of Dani’s jaw, making her gasp a bit, roll back against the other woman, “—and I’m going to fuck you over this sink because of it.” Another kiss. “Assuming that’s what you want.” Her zipper being dragged down, button popping open. “Is this what you want, Poppins?”
Her voice slices right through Dani’s center. Even given the strangeness and the heat, she can still hear Jamie in there. Her Jamie. Despite her words, her tone. She wiggles back again.
“Yes,” she hisses.
One of Jamie’s hands drifts back up, slipping beneath Dani’s shirt and then cups her breast lightly, massaging it, stroking her nipple into a peak through the fabric of her bra. Dani leans back against Jamie’s chest, arching into the touch.
“Didn’t think my day’d end up like this,” Jamie says just under Dani’s ear. “Not that I’m complaining.” A nip of her teeth. Dani gasps, rocking back again. “Can you be quiet, doll? The others are just down the hall.”
That definitely shouldn’t excite the way it does. Not the idea of being caught—no, no —but the fact that, just minutes ago, she was in the kitchen just living her life. Making dinner. And now Jamie has her hand up her shirt.
“Yes,” she breathes, craning her neck uncomfortably to meet Jamie’s lips with her own. “Please.”
They kiss, long and languid, and Dani is so distracted by it that she nearly misses Jamie’s hands moving southward again. She breaks away and locks her elbows to hold herself up just in time, pressing her face into her own upper arm to muffle her moan as Jamie’s fingers delve between her thighs for the first time.
One finger slides down the length of her, just enough to be teasing. Then Jamie strokes it over Dani’s opening. When it finally slips in, Dani’s eyes may roll back a little at the sensation, but it isn’t enough. She wants more—all of it; anything Jamie can give her—pressed inside. Taking her.
Jamie starts shallow, unwilling to rush, but when Dani presses back against her and tightens around the lone digit, she seems to understand. It’s a request. A begging one at that: please go faster, please don’t be gentle.
There will be plenty of time for everything else later on.
Thankfully, Jamie listens. She pushes her finger in past the second knuckle, fucking Dani to distraction so she can slip another one in. The stretch is good—better—but not perfect. Not enough to make Dani feel full. Jamie rocks her hips against her, curling her fingers and stroking her thumb against Dani’s clit. Rubbing. Dani bites the soft skin of her own upper arm through her shirt and presses down into Jamie’s hand.
“Do that again,” she gasps as Jamie hits a spot that feels fluorescent—lights her up like a flashing neon sign in the dark. Electric and fluttering.
Jamie does it again, hitting that spot over and over. Dani writhes against her hand. She reaches back to loop one of her arms at a straining angle, around Jamie’s neck, and Jamie helps her stand up straight, pressing her mouth to Dani’s throat, tonguing at her pulse. She uses her free hand to brace Dani’s chest diagonally, her hand rubbing at her sternum as she pumps another finger in, curving and curling it just right.
“Look at us, Dani,” Jamie whispers. “In the mirror. Look at us.”
Dani doesn’t want to at first. Those reasons are still there. Because if she were to look up and see…
Well, this would be over pretty quickly.
But curiosity bites at her lungs. She wants to see. Wants to know what Jamie looks like when she’s fucking her like this.
So she looks.
Jamie is behind her, face flushed from effort, eyes blazing with something Dani can feel burning inside herself. She has her lips parted, breath rough. If Dani hadn’t been choked with desire before , then—
“You look incredible like this,” Jamie says, and Dani looks over at herself.
Finds someone she doesn’t recognize. Someone bolder and braver who isn’t afraid of her own reflection. No ghosts in her periphery, no worry in her eyes. Her cheeks are pink, lipstick smeared across her lips, wisps of her hair falling into her eyes from her ruined ponytail. Her eyes glance down, but the mirror cuts off just above her waist. All she can see is Jamie’s arm moving, but that’s more than enough to make her lose what little control she still retains.
Dani’s head rolls back against Jamie’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. “Oh, my god,” she whispers. “ Jamie —”
She comes with a shudder and Jamie slowly fucks her through it.
“ Jesus ,” she whispers once she catches her breath. She turns her head to kiss Jamie again.
“God, Dani,” Jamie says, nipping at her earlobe. “I never want to stop touching you.”
She nods, boneless and still panting. “Then don’t. Please.”
Jamie pulls her hand out of Dani’s pants and uses her other hand to turn her. In the quiet afterglow, Dani is certain that they are the only two people in the world. This should probably scare her, but it doesn’t.
There hadn’t been anyone else lingering in the mirror, waiting for her and watching with eyes like flashlights. No one to make the guilt churn steadily in her stomach. No one to make her feel like she doesn’t deserve this .
All she’d seen was Jamie.
Jamie and herself.
Briefly—as Jamie kisses her with more tenderness than either of them has been capable of so far—Dani ponders whether or not this is something she can have. Now that she knows it, she doesn’t think she could live in a world where it isn’t .
Fortunately for her, Jamie has an answer for everything.
“Tell me it isn’t just this,” she whispers, eyes shimmering with innocent longing. “I don’t—I’m not used to this and I...Tell me it’s not just me.”
“It’s not just you,” Dani tells her.
Jamie kisses her again, laughing into it a bit as the tension rolls away—slips out through the gap beneath the door, out and away. The harsh bathroom light paints them pale and yellow. On the wall opposite the sink, their shadows are cast, faint and anemic in the dim light. They are weak at the edges, no end in sight, so maybe they go on forever. Up and up or down or left or right. Stretching and going, spreading them both as far as they can travel; on and on until there is light. Only light.
“I’m sorry if this wasn’t how you...wanted to do things.”
As she says it, Jamie presses a thumb to the dip beside Dani’s lips. Watching the flutter of those eyelashes, the curl of Jamie’s hair, Dani begins lining the words up in her head. It’s too soon for it, she knows that, but love is the first one that comes to mind. She imagines saying it, speaking it into a distance. Wonders whether or not it could scrub clean all those darker shadows lingering at her heels. Considers saying something about never feeling at home with anyone else, never knowing it could be like this, that she could have this. But there’ll be time for past tense later.
Right now, in the present, there are other things to say.
“All I want is you,” she says. “How doesn’t matter as much.”
Those hands on Dani’s hips, her belt still unbuckled. Legs shaky and breath caught. Jamie’s smile tilts magnificently across those pretty lips.
“Yeah,” she says, just as wild and set free, “Me too.”
And for all the things Dani has been terrified to face, the consequences of meeting this one head make her feel braver than she’s ever been.
..