The Muse (24 page)

Despite her past handful of lovers, Kate wasn’t used to feeling like a serious object of desire. Now both Erato and Olive made her feel like she was more than capable of backing up the passionate, sizzling erotic encounters she wrote about with real-life sexual bona fides, which was empowering, to say the least. But the two women, and how they made Kate feel, were so different. While Erato was never short on compliments and was clearly willing to do anything Kate wanted—for the sake of her art, of course—Olive’s desire felt more real, and raw, and potentially messy. That was because
Olive
felt more real, as opposed to Erato, who seemingly had no aspirations, dreams, or even life of her own.

Kate experienced a strange moment of dysphoria not unlike the one she’d felt following her return to reality after being immersed in her book for days on end. From the second Erato had breezed into her life, everything had taken on an air of the surreal. She’d been seduced by the most picture-perfect woman she’d ever seen up close, then taken to have a threesome with the veritable poster girl for “exactly Kate McMannis’s type.” The days after that were a blur of food, writing, sex, flirting, punishments, and the occasional cannabis-induced haze. She’d been virtually cut off from her family and friends—with assurances that she wasn’t dead, just writing against a deadline—so it had been easy to feel as though she’d relocated to a different planet altogether.

But she hadn’t. This was the same planet, and the same life, where she’d always lived. And right now a beautiful woman lay on top of her, a woman she respected and admired and felt fiercely attracted to. And that woman wanted her, and trusted her, and might even be convinced to share a life someday, if Kate didn’t mess things up too badly. The thought overwhelmed her.

Frightened by the intensity of her emotions, Kate adopted a playful air. “I turn you on, or my stories do?”

Olive removed her hand from between Kate’s thighs, licking her fingers one by one. “Both.”

“You said you wanted to try all the things I’ve written about.” She’d penned a
lot
of erotic scenes. Depicting…a
lot
of sexual acts. Enough to fill the sexual bucket lists of an entire small village. “
All
of them?”

Chuckling, Olive kissed her, leaving behind traces of a familiar flavor Kate recognized as her own. “Well, the ones
you’re
interested in making a reality.” She paused, taking on a faraway look that Kate assumed meant she was revisiting the numerous sex scenes she’d read over the past week. “There might be one or two things I’m not ready to do.” Her eyes refocused, and she winked. “But I can’t think of any examples off the top of my head.”

With a groan, Kate tried to initiate another kiss. This time Olive stopped her, placing a hand on her chest and smiling at her. Nervously. “So…”

Curious about the source of Olive’s sudden anxiety, Kate let her head fall back onto the pillow. She rubbed her hands up and down over Olive’s sides, then her back, in an effort to soothe. “So, I definitely want to see you again.”

Olive relaxed slightly. “Maybe we could have dinner? I know this amazing Mexican place I guarantee you’ve never tried.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Kate’s mind raced. Exactly how much would Erato make her do to earn a dinner date? And how fast could she do it? “I’ll probably need to meet another word-count goal, but—”

“Wait.” Olive hesitated, once again showing her nerves. “Just to be clear, I’m not talking about another playdate. I’m talking about a
real
date. With you. And me.” Her eyes darted to the side, as though she was afraid she’d discover they were no longer alone. “And nobody else.”

Kate nodded to show that she understood. Unfortunately, as happy as it made her to know that Olive wanted to go on dates like two normal people might, that didn’t change her answer to the original question. “I want the same thing, believe me. A real date.” Silently, she wondered how Erato would react to the idea of an unchaperoned evening out. After all, she realized with a start, she and Erato hadn’t spent any time apart—not for more than a few minutes at a time, unless she was writing—since the day she had arrived. How to explain all of that without sounding a little
too
eccentric? “I’m just not sure when I’ll be available…exactly. With my deadline and everything.”

“I don’t even need you for the whole night. Just dinner.” Olive’s smile faded entirely at the uneasy expression Kate knew she was wearing. “Erato can’t possibly expect you to write every minute of every day. I mean, she lets you stop to eat on occasion, doesn’t she?”

Kate managed a humorless laugh. “Of course I stop for meals. And no, she doesn’t expect me to write constantly.”

“So surely she’d understand if you took an hour to meet me for dinner?”

Kate didn’t know how to answer. She wasn’t positive how Erato would feel about the idea, but she suspected that even if she were allowed to start dating before she finished the book, it wouldn’t be until she’d written at least a few thousand words. Or ten thousand. Or even twenty, depending on how concerned Erato was that Olive might throw her off course. Stalling, she asked, “When are you free?”

“Pretty much any evening this week except Tuesday. We could even meet tomorrow, if that works for you.”

So much for stalling. Hating that she was about to deflate Olive again, Kate tried to act casual about her inability to commit. “Let me just check in with Erato before we make a firm plan. I don’t want to start things out by breaking any promises.”

Olive’s eyes narrowed, and then she rolled off to the side. Disappointed by the loss of the warm body over hers, Kate turned and pulled Olive into a loose embrace. She yearned for the closeness she’d felt while they’d made love, before she’d started this bungling explanation of why she couldn’t commit to their first real date without checking first with her “editor.” Olive allowed Kate to hold her, but a barrier had clearly gone up.

Not meeting her eyes, Olive said, “Is your relationship with Erato more than professional?”

Kate hesitated, totally unsure how to answer. “She’s not my girlfriend.” But that didn’t begin to explain what the nature of their association actually
was
…not that Kate entirely understood it herself. “You know I have sex with her.” She paused. “
Had
sex with her,” she amended, watching Olive’s eyes. “If it bothers you, I won’t have sex with her anymore.” Incredibly, she both meant it
and
felt at peace with the decision. Sex with Erato was amazing, but the emotional connection simply didn’t compare. No matter how good it felt physically, continuing to sleep with Erato wasn’t worth screwing up what might possibly turn into the best relationship she’d ever had.

When Olive didn’t respond, Kate kept talking, hopeful she’d say whatever Olive needed to hear. “Erato is my writing coach, basically. And while I admit that her methods are a little out there sometimes, they seem to be working. I’m pretty sure she’s single-handedly rescued the career I’ve spent the past year and a half sabotaging. So right now I’m feeling very grateful, and focused, and like I should continue to check in with her as far as what I do and how I schedule my days. Because even if it seems a little crazy, I’m not sure I can be trusted to manage my own time this close to a deadline.”

Olive’s expression softened. “I get it. I think.” She petted Kate’s hair, then sighed as she ran her fingers through it. “How about one dinner, the two of us alone, and then I promise not to distract you again until you call me—with Erato’s blessing? No matter how long that might take.” Her other hand found Kate’s on the sheets. “Please, Kate. The time we’ve spent together has literally turned my life upside down. Even though I’m sure it’s not only trite but also really uncool to admit that, it’s true. I can’t stop thinking about you, yet we’ve never spent more than a few minutes alone together. I’m pretty sure I want to
date
you, date you, and even if we can’t start doing that for a month or two, it’ll be okay as long as I know,
soon,
that this will become something more than just casual sex. Because if that’s all this—”

“It’s not.”

With effort, Olive finally made eye contact. “Good, because that’s not what I’m looking for at this point in my life.” She quirked her lips. “I mean, don’t get me wrong…I’m
definitely
looking for sex. I just want…sex
plus
.”

Sex
plus
. Kate liked that. Maybe even enough to borrow the term for a future book. She opened her mouth to ask permission to do just that, but the quiet creak of the bedroom door forced her to swallow the words and made her stomach twist in nervous anticipation. Their moment of solitude was over. Without letting go of Olive, she lifted her head and looked over her shoulder, surprised to discover enough light was streaming in through the windows to allow her to see Erato in all her glory, standing in the doorway dressed in lingerie with a tray of food and drink in her hands.

“Good morning!” Erato chirped. “Rise and shine!”

Incredulous, Kate glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand. “It’s six o’clock,” she said, determined not to rise
or
shine. “In the morning. On Saturday.” She paused to let the facts settle. “Are you
nuts
?”

Erato sat on the edge of the bed in the spot she’d vacated earlier and set the tray on the mattress. “I know you’ve suspected as much, once or twice.”

“I’m not even remotely ready to think about food yet.” Kate tried to snuggle closer to Olive but found it impossible to ignore the tension running through the body entangled with hers. Frowning at the change in mood, Kate decided to try to recapture a little of the fun they’d had together last night. “Seriously, Erato, you should go put that tray on my dresser and get back in bed.” She stopped talking, suddenly unsure whether Olive would approve of her suggestion. Hadn’t she just offered to stop having sex with Erato? Did it count if she and Olive did it together? “Or at least…don’t make us get up yet.”

Sighing, Olive held the sheet against her chest and sat up. “No, it’s probably for the best.”

Erato’s smile turned distinctly chilly. “Yes, I think it is. Kate has a lot of work to do today.”

Olive blinked. “Oh.” Something that looked like embarrassment passed across her face, and she sat up straighter, then quickly leaned over the side of the bed and came back up with her dress. “Right, maybe I should just go.”

“No!” Kate grabbed Olive’s wrist, then quickly let go when she realized how inappropriate that was. “I mean, at least have breakfast first.” She pinned Erato with a hard stare, silently urging her to make amends for her rudeness. “It’s not like I’m going to start writing until after
I
eat, anyway.”

“Please do stay and eat, Olive,” Erato said, but her smile was forced and her voice made it clear she was being polite, but just barely. “Kate and I owe you that much after everything you’ve done for us.”

Flushing, Olive rolled out of bed and quickly tugged her dress on over her head. The hurt in her eyes perfectly reflected the passive-aggressive ugliness of Erato’s comment. “No, that’s all right. I should go to the bakery, anyway. I’ll grab something to eat there.”

Shocked by Erato’s not-so-subtle implication that Olive was nothing more than a whore who could be paid off with a continental breakfast—and that Kate and Erato were some sort of couple—Kate scrambled out of bed after Olive. “Wait.” She glared at Erato, then pointed at the bedroom door. “Give us a minute alone, please.”

Rather than leave, Erato lazily peeled a banana and took a bite. She fluttered her hand in the same general direction. “I won’t follow you.”

Confused, Kate turned just in time to see Olive rush out of the room. She followed close behind, trailing her as she navigated the stairs, but didn’t speak until Olive stopped to search the living room for her shoes. “I apologize for her. I’ve never…” She searched her memory. “I’ve seriously
never
seen her act like that before. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way, and she had no right to imply that your coming over was somehow a favor you did for ‘us.’” When Olive didn’t answer, instead perching on the arm of the couch to slip on her shoes, Kate walked over to stand in front of her. Sensing she was on the verge of losing something vitally important, Kate dropped to her knees and took Olive’s hand, pressing her lips to the knuckles. “I’m almost positive she’s overcompensating in an attempt not to let me get distracted from the book. Please don’t take it personally.”

Olive barely lifted her gaze. “Erato works
for
you, right?”

“She does.” Kate swallowed, not liking the unspoken suggestion that her professional relationship with Erato could be easily severed. “I’ll talk to her. She may have worked miracles as far as ending my writer’s block, but that doesn’t give her the right to interfere with my personal life.” She rubbed her thumb over Olive’s fingers. “It certainly doesn’t give her the right to talk to you like she did. Believe me when I say it
won’t
happen again. I’ll make sure of that.”

Nodding, Olive exhaled and buried her face in her hands. She waited almost a full minute to speak. “I feel like this just got complicated.”

Terrified by what that meant, exactly, Kate said, “I’ve got a few weeks left before my deadline. Yes, things will be a little complicated until then—they always are when I’m pushing to finish a project—but I promise,
you
are my priority as soon as this book is done. In the meantime, I’ll talk to Erato and tell her we won’t be able to continue working together unless she loses the attitude—no matter
how
good she is at her job.”

Olive sighed, then dropped her hands and tentatively met Kate’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to upend your life
or
disrupt your working relationship with Erato. I’m happy to coexist with her, even if that means sharing you sexually…until this book is done, at least. We barely know each other, and I certainly have no claim on you at this point in our relationship. And I’m definitely not asking you to prioritize me over your writing. At all. That’s your passion, and I respect that it’s a major part of your life, believe me. I just…”