Two Hearts Alone by Harper Bliss

Author:Harper Bliss [Bliss, Harper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-988-791-249-1
Publisher: Ladylit Publishing

15

Anna

One-two. One-two. While I stand in front of the liquor cabinet, I count my breaths. I need to do something to stem the swirl of emotions inside that threatens to spiral out of control. Did Zoe just try to ask me out? For the life of me, I can’t fathom why she would do that. It must really be a case of me being the only lesbian in town, although I’m probably not. In a town of nearly twenty thousand inhabitants, Zoe and I can’t be the only ones. I start counting my breaths out loud to stop my thoughts from spinning out of control even more, even though it doesn’t appear to be working very well. I focus my attention on the bottle of booze in front of me. I didn’t even ask her what she wanted to drink. I’m in no state to be mixing elaborate cocktails, so it will have to be something extremely simple. I reach for a bottle of vodka. Then I remember she drank white wine at Lenny’s the other day.

“I have some white wine open in the fridge, actually,” I say, trying to sound casual, when I walk back into the kitchen.

To my surprise, Zoe has her nose buried in the book I was reading. It’s called Nights of Passion and it totally lives up to its title. Damn. What must she think of me now?

“This is… very interesting, Anna,” she says. Her eyes are different when she pins her gaze on me next.

“Isn’t it?” I say, stupidly. “Is wine okay?”

She nods while a massive grin appears on her face.

I turn away from her to get the wine and a couple of glasses. I just hope she didn’t open it on the page I had bookmarked, but chances are that she has. That’s the problem with almost never inviting anyone into your house—your vices are often on full display.

“You didn’t get these from Mrs. Fincher, I take it,” Zoe says when I give her the glass of wine.

“No, she didn’t have much of an LGBT section. And most of those wouldn’t be on display in a bookstore anyway. I sometimes ordered them through her, but even that was often difficult. I usually buy them direct from the publisher or author.” I try to say this with a straight face, as if we’re discussing an important piece of business.

“Is Nights of Passion any good?” She’s still holding the book.

“Not bad.” I quickly take a sip of wine.

“Have you read other books by…”—she studies the cover, her eyes narrowing—“Lizzie Harris. Christ, I could barely make out the author’s name.”

“She’s one of my favorites, actually.”

“Would you recommend this book to me?”

“I don’t know, because I don’t know your taste in books.”

“I thought you were a literary snob, what with you raving about A Little Life like that, although I do feel like I’ve learned an important tidbit about you.” Zoe is having way too much fun at my expense.

“I can like both. I like all sorts of books.

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