Chapter 11

                                    

                                          
A/N: Sorry for the delay, I know these updates have been super slow. If you're still here and reading, thank you so much for your patience :) 

Stevie sat atop a stool, her body hanging across the kitchen island as she sipped a glass of orange juice and picked at a plate of eggs lazily. It was well after 1 PM, but most of them trickled in and out of the kitchen as the cook served breakfast- their hangovers from last night's party still in full swing. She tried to fight flashbacks of she and Lindsey hungrily devouring one another in the darkened laundry room last night, the memories swirling around with her pounding headache. 
She'd retreated up to her bedroom not long after they rejoined the party, needing to collect herself after recklessly letting her guard down once again. Lying in the middle of her bed alone, she had felt so small curled up in its center, torturing herself with thoughts. Was their on-and-off affair officially back on? Was Lindsey down the hall spending his last night with Carol by touching her the way he just touched her? Would they ever be able to stop this thing between them? Did she even want to?
"Steves!" Christine's voice brought her back to present tense. 
"Huh?"
"I said, does 3 PM start time work for you? Mick's asking."
"Oh," she glanced at the clock on the wall, "Uh, sure."
With a quick nod and the grab of her coffee mug, Christine disappeared from the kitchen, leaving Stevie alone again. A few minutes later, as she was stirring her coffee in the silence, the door swung open and Lindsey walked through. She swallowed nervously as she felt his energy ripple through the room, his messy curls going a million different directions as his hands hid inside the pockets of his leather jacket. Taking a sip from her mug, she met his eyes with a soft, uncertain smile. 
"Good morning," he grinned, standing on the opposite side of the counter as she. 
"Morning, Carol get on her flight okay?"
He nodded, "Yep, she's on her way to New York as we speak."
She bit her lip as she placed her mug back down, their eyes still trapped in a quiet stare-off. "Interesting," she smiled, her eyes falling to the counter nervously as the word accidentally slipped out of her mouth. She felt his hand lay over hers gently, his fingertips almost afraid to brush against hers. 
"Can we talk before we start recording?" he asked hopefully.
"About what?"
She couldn't help herself from being purposefully difficult with him, it was her first instinct after all these years. He eyed her with a glare, his eyes darting to their French chef who happily wiped the counters down while the two of them spoke. English may not have been her first language, but she understood it perfectly well. She knew he meant he wanted to talk alone, but she wasn't going to give him that satisfaction so easily. 
"I think you know..."
"We only have a little over an hour before start time, and I've got to take a bath first. Later?" she slid off the stool, placing her mug in the sink.
"Steph..."
Instead of answering, she disappeared out of the kitchen quickly. She herself wasn't sure why she reacted like that, she just wasn't ready to have "the talk" with Lindsey the second the wheels of Carol Ann's plane lifted off the ground. She still needed a minute to wrap her head around their accidental hookup the night before. Yes, a bath was just what she needed.
It may have been the middle of the afternoon, but she left the lights off in the bathroom, instead lighting candles all around the old bathtub that sat in the middle of the room. The hallway was quiet, everyone confined to their rooms or out back recovering from their hangovers with fresh air and bongs. Lying back in the bubble-filled tub, she shut her eyes and tried to meditate as she let her muscles relax in the scalding hot water—soothing some of the welcomed soreness that lingered from the night before.