Two of a Kind: A forced proximity sapphic holiday romance by Eden Emory & Ashley Pines

Author:Eden Emory & Ashley Pines [Emory, Eden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-12-15T16:00:00+00:00

Warm, strong arms wrapped around my waist, paired with the smell of sandalwood soap. A familiar, barely there snore rustling the back of my hair.

I didn’t dare to move. Hardly dared to breathe.

I’d had this dream before. The moment I opened my eyes it would be over, and I’d realize I was alone again. Doomed to jump from place to place so I wouldn’t have to deal with the ghosts haunting my brownstone. Fuck, I was practically one of them at this point.

Even if it was a lie—a dream concocted by my subconscious—I’d do anything to hold on for just a few more minutes.

Because when I got up I’d have to face my friends again. Pretend with Quinn and everyone else at the cabin that I wasn’t heartbroken over the wrong person, like I was okay with Quinn and I being closer to strangers than friends.

“Are you even breathing, Haze?” Quinn murmured sleepily in my ear, her lips grazing the sensitive shell.

Hot, wet tears welled in my eyes. I’d almost forgotten the sound of her voice, it’d been so long since we’d been alone like this. But thanks to a couple days of hanging out, there it was, a perfect recreation.

My subconscious was one mean bitch.

“Haze?” Quinn asked, the cushions jostling as she sat up, her breath ghosting over my face from where the figment leaned over me. I could practically see it through my eyelids, the way her dark t-shirt would cling to her shoulders but gape at the neck, the slight frizziness to her golden hair in the morning light.

Her calloused, warm fingers brushed my cheek and I whimpered.

“This is such bullshit,” I hissed to my dream.

“Babe, what?” She breathed a laugh. “Are you okay?”

I sighed, steeling myself for the inevitable disappointment of waking up alone again. Because if I let this go on any longer I was going to have to brave the undoubtedly cold shower for a place to cry. With that depressing thought, I opened my eyes.

Quinn’s face hovered above mine, confusion pulling her brows together. “You good?”

I blinked stupidly, taking in the hickeys decorating her neck and chest. The blanket we’d been sharing pooled at her hips, revealing her deliciously tattooed skin and bare breasts, her nipples peaked in the chill of the morning.

The fire must’ve guttered out overnight.

“I—” I started, breaking off into an unexpected sob as the night flooded back.

The argument. The game. Us.

I pulled Quinn down on top of me, burying my face into the side of her neck as I cried. Not cute girlish tears—wailing—snotty and uncontrollable as I caught up to a year of desperately missing her and the insurmountable joy of having her back.

Quinn was frozen for a moment before her hands began to soothe at anywhere she could reach. “It’s okay, Haze. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

I hiccuped and sobbed harder at her misreading the situation.

Didn’t she get it? Didn’t she understand that I loved her? Wanted her? Chased after her for months in a desperate

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