Spicy Sapphic Christmas

9. Bea

NINE

bea

“I can’t wait to see who we’re singing with!” Jo, perky as always, vibrated with barely contained energy.

Bea’s stomach was a twisted tangle of nerves. It always was whenever she had somewhere new to go or something new to do, and this was so different from anything she’d done in a long time. The stage where they were set to perform wasn’t available until the week running up to the event, so they were rehearsing in a small studio on the edge of town that took Bea an hour to get to.

Commuting an hour each way was going to drive her insane.

Jo bounced around as she went, acting as if none of this was a problem. The door to the studio was opaque, the glass looking almost rippled, but it was definitely the right place. Bea had triple checked the address before they’d left that morning and insisted that Jo travel with her at least for this first day.

She could do this.

Pushing the door open, Bea told herself again that she would plaster professionalism all over herself no matter who they ended up singing with. Music filtered through the studio from the piano that was staged close to the large windows on one side of the room. The lights were bright, and the acoustics exactly what they needed.

The melody was so familiar to Bea that she almost started humming along to it already. December Prayer was one of her favorite Christmas songs to date. If that was going to be one of the songs they were singing for the charity event, then Bea was happy they’d agreed to it.

Jo’s squeal was so loud that it echoed through the studio. She raced up and wrapped her arms around Piper’s neck as she leapt into a hug. The two of them embraced while Bea’s stomach sank even more.

This she should have figured out.

This she should have known.

The piano music stopped abruptly. And Bunny stood up, leaning over the edge of the upright to stare at Piper and Jo before slowly sliding her gaze to Bea. And that gaze was intense. It moved straight between Bea’s legs, causing a shudder to flutter through her.

“I didn’t realize you were doing the charity event, too!” Jo spun around the side of the piano and wrapped her arms around Bunny, who froze. Sharply. Stiffly. She looked over Jo’s shoulder and made direct eye contact with Bea, begging her to step in and make it stop.

“Jo, leave her alone,” Bea said softly. “Siena put it together. It’s not too much of a surprise when you think about it.”

Bunny stepped to the side and moved decidedly out of Jo’s reach. Piper moved in and gave Bea a half hug. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Did you know?” Bea murmured, keeping her voice as quiet as possible so hopefully Bunny didn’t hear.

“Yeah.”

“So we’re the ones in the dark this time.”

Piper shrugged. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Can’t really complain.” Well, Bea could, but she wouldn’t. This was probably more to her and Jo’s advantage than it was to theirs.

“I’ve already gone through and picked out several songs.” Bunny took the binders that were stacked on top of the piano and handed one to Jo before walking directly to Bea and handing her another one. Their fingers brushed, and Bea’s breath caught in her throat.

This was going to be the longest fucking month on the planet.

Bea flipped open to the first page, which was the song Bunny had been playing at the piano. It was listed for just her as a solo. In fact, each song listed exactly who was going to sing what. There were duets, trios, and a few for all four of them, but absolutely none of them had Bea and Bunny singing together.

“If you have any other song suggestions, let me know,” Bunny said to the room loudly, as if she hadn’t already talked this over with Piper before they arrived this morning. “We can add them in if they fit.”

If they fit? Bea almost rolled her eyes, but she caught herself in time. The last thing she needed was to piss Bunny off before they’d even started. And they had agreed on civility.

“Siena said we’re to fill about three hours of time. There will be a small intermission in the middle. I don’t want the choreography to be too complicated. I think we could all probably use the rest from memorization.”

Bea pressed her lips together tightly. She wasn’t even sure what to say, but the command Bunny had over the room was astounding. Not just command, but her serious organizational ability on such short notice.

“Are you two warmed up?” Bunny asked, looking directly at Bea.

Her heart skipped a beat. She was staring into Bunny’s dark brown eyes like she could be lost in them for days. She looked so relaxed in her loose racerback and jogging pants. Her tennis shoes were scuffed as if they were well used and loved.

“Bea,” Bunny nudged with a gentle tone.

“Oh, um, no. We didn’t.” Why did she sound so breathy?

“Right. We’ll do that first then.” Bunny took the open binder in Bea’s hand and snapped it shut. The sound reverberated throughout the studio before she sat at the piano and started playing chords.

Piper moved to stand next to the piano and Jo followed. The two of them stood on the back side, which left Bea with a choice. She could either make them squish together even more and face Bunny for the warm-up, or she could stand directly behind Bunny.

That was definitely the wiser choice. Then she wouldn’t have to see Bunny’s face while she sang. Bea moved into place, keeping at least a foot of space between her and Bunny’s back as Bunny’s fingers played over the keys. She closed her eyes, following the warm-ups easily as they went.

“All right, Jo. Your turn. Show me what you’ve got.” Bunny nodded toward Jo, and Bea’s eyes opened wide.

Bunny’s fingers pressed into the keys, delicately, one after the other with a firmness that Bea understood precisely. With every touch of Bunny’s finger to a key it was as if Bunny touched her, caressed her. Bea gasped as her knees went weak, the full brunt of the memory of Bunny between her legs hitting her.

She rocked forward, her front hitting Bunny and she had to grab onto Bunny’s shoulder tightly to keep herself upright. Bunny turned to look up and stopped playing immediately, swinging Bea down next to her on the piano bench, a hand on her arm and a hand on her waist.

“Are you dizzy?” Bunny asked.

Bea’s ears rang with a buzz so loud that she could barely make out Bunny’s voice.

“Bea,” Bunny said louder. “Bea, what’s wrong?”

“Just give me a minute.” Bea pressed her forehead against Bunny’s shoulder, trying to catch her breath. But it seemed every time she was just about to grasp onto it, it would slip away from her. Why was the whole world spinning off its axis?

Bunny snagged her hand and held onto it tight. Jo fluttered around, her noises barely out of Bea’s senses. She couldn’t focus. Bunny said something, but Bea didn’t catch what it was. Suddenly something cold was pressed to the side of Bea’s face. She reached up to grab it, finding someone’s hand already there, but she didn’t let go.

The cold was exactly what she needed to focus, and it brought the room slightly back into view. Well, not the room, but Bunny. Bea still hadn’t moved her forehead from Bunny’s shoulder, and they sat facing opposite directions on the piano bench.

“Give her some space,” Bunny ordered.

Heat kissed Bea’s cheeks. God, she couldn’t believe this was happening. It had been so long since she’d well and truly fainted, but she must have made the mistake of locking her knees, of not breathing right. She was so distracted that she hadn’t been able to focus on anything other than Bunny’s fingers.

Those strong fingers that traced a sweet pattern against her waist, the warm fingers that were the barrier between the cold-water bottle and her hand. Bea’s heart thrummed along steadily, too fast for the beginning of a rehearsal.

“She hasn’t done this in years,” Jo said, so obviously worried.

“I’m fine,” Bea managed to get the words out, but her voice sounded a million miles away. “I just need a minute.”

“You have it.” Bunny held still, unmoving, the stability and anchor that Bea needed in that moment. “Stay here as long as you need it.”

Right there.

Bea nearly crumbled.

That was the woman Bea had seen at the end of that first night, the sudden softness she’d never expected. And here it was again, once Bunny pushed past all the demanding, all the skepticism, all the bravado.

Was this the real Bunny?

Bea lost all track of time. She didn’t want to lift her head and move. She didn’t want to face the embarrassment that she knew was awaiting her as soon as she looked in Bunny’s gaze. She shifted on the piano bench, her ass starting to hurt from sitting in the odd position for so long.

“Are you ready to move?”

“I think so,” Bea whispered. She took in a deep bolstering breath before she pulled back. Bunny still didn’t let her go. She held onto both of Bea’s hips, making sure she was steady.

“Take your time. I’m serious.”

“I know you are. You’re never not serious.” Bea bit her tongue. She shouldn’t have snapped. Bunny was just trying to be helpful. Bea knew that. But her embarrassment was rearing its asshole nature and making her even more embarrassed by the second. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about—”

“Will you just accept my apology?” Bea snapped again. She cringed. She had to find a way to make herself stop.

“Yes.” Bunny pulled away slightly, lifting Bea’s chin so she could look in Bea’s eyes. “Yes, I accept your apology.”

“Thank you.” Bea relaxed a little more. She tried to shift off the bench, but Bunny was right there with her, an arm wrapped around her waist. Bea let her do it, because honestly, she wasn’t sure if she could stay upright without it. Not right now. Looking around, she was confused. “Where are Piper and Jo?”

“Jo said something about you needing sugar.”

“Oh.” Bea rubbed her lips together. That was what normally made her weak like this, a dip in her blood sugar. Leave it to Jo to remember that and race after something that would help. But that wasn’t what had happened this time.

“They should be back soon. Piper took her to the coffee house just down the road to get something.”

“Okay.” Bea tried to move again, but Bunny was right there. “I won’t fall over.”

“I don’t believe that.” Bunny pressed in a little tighter. “But if you have a problem with your blood sugar, you need to tell me. Because if we need to plan for breaks during the show for you to keep it level, then we will.”

“No, I should be fine.”

“Three hours is a long set, Bea.”

“I’m fully aware.” Bea’s chest tightened under the stress of everything. They should have never agreed to do this show. She wasn’t going to be able to keep up with Bunny and Piper. They weren’t seasoned enough to do this. And it was already showing. They hadn’t even made it through a warm-up.

“What’s wrong?” Bunny asked, seeming genuine.

“I’m not some newb who’s never done this before. Jo and I have been doing shows for years, and we deserve some credit for that.”

“You have it.” Bunny shook her head in confusion. “I’m not underestimating your ability.”

“But you’re underestimating me.” Bea shook her head. Why was she doing this? Surely, she had better control of herself by now. “So stop.”

“I’m not—”

“Stop denying it!” Bea raised her voice.

Bunny’s lips parted but no sound came out. She dropped her gaze from Bea’s eyes to Bea’s lips, causing another wild shudder to run through Bea’s body and her knees to threaten to give out again.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot, Bea.” Bunny straightened her shoulders, but she still hadn’t looked back up into Bea’s eyes. “But you can’t deny that working with us is a boost to your ego and your image. Don’t think me an idiot.”

“That isn’t why we agreed to this.” Bea’s heart was in her throat again. She turned her body, forcing Bunny to raise her gaze up to her eyes. “And if you think I’m that shallow, then I’ll quit right now.”

Bunny snorted lightly. “Shallow?”

“I call it like I see it.”

Taking a step forward, Bunny pushed Bea back. Bea took an uneasy step, the backs of her thighs hitting the edge of the piano. When had she gotten so close to it?

“And so do I.” Bunny’s threat was clear. She still had a hand on Bea’s side, and she lowered it to Bea’s hip, giving her one good hard shove until she fell back onto the keys of the piano. The discordant notes hit the air just as Bunny’s lips were on hers.

Moaning, Bea dropped her hand to the piano to hold herself up better, the noise loud in her ears. Bunny’s tongue pushed against hers, and Bea struggled to breathe again, but this time for an entirely different reason. She was lost in the kiss. She dug her fingers into Bunny’s hair, tightening her grasp as she sucked Bunny’s lower lip into her mouth and scraped her teeth along the sensitive skin.

Two could play this game.

Perhaps this was Bunny’s angle. She kept accusing Bea of having one, why should Bea be so stupid as to assume that Bunny didn’t have one too? Seduce the young musician every time she dared to have an opinion.

Jerking back, Bea held her ground. She stared directly into Bunny’s eyes when she said, “Stop.”

Bunny put her hands up and took a step back. She swiped her fingers over her mouth, cleaning it as she took a walk toward the window. She raked her fingers through her hair, pulling at the strands. Bea watched her carefully from the piano, still leaning against the keys.

“Just stop being a jerk.”

Bunny’s shoulders dropped. “We agreed to be civil.”

“We did.” Bea stood up, finding her footing again. Bunny was right. She pulled herself back together and folded her hands in front of her. “And for that sake, let’s move on. Why didn’t you plan a duet with me?”

“What?” Bunny spun around. “What are you talking about?”

“There’s no duet for us. There’s every other pairing under the sun, but none for you and me.” Bea walked closer, finally finding her confidence. “Why?”

“I didn’t…” Bunny trailed off, blinking and furrowing her brow. “I didn’t think our voices would blend well together.”

“Don’t lie to yourself. If you didn’t want to do one with me, that’s all you had to say.”

“It’s not that.” Bunny frowned. “It’s not that at all.”

“Then what is it?”

Bunny looked stunned, fear crossing her gaze before she shook it. “Just trust me. That’s not why.”

“We have refreshments!” Piper said from the doorway.

“Oh, thank God,” Bunny muttered as she walked past Bea.

So much for that conversation. Bea took an extra second to pull herself together before she turned around and faced her sister. She couldn’t know what they’d just been doing. No one could.