Chapter 8
At some point they end up on the couch, stretched out side by side facing each other. The TV is off now, the remote discarded on the coffee table, and the only light comes from the three-way torchiere lamp at the far end of the couch. It’s been turned down to the lowest setting, making the darkened living room intimate. All of Dayla’s attention has narrowed, too, focused solely on the woman lying beside her. In the diffused golden light, most of Keri’s freckles have disappeared, but Dayla can still see them every time she leans in to kiss. Keri’s damp curls are a burnished copper, her cheeks ruddy, her eyes dark pools of starlight. Dayla thinks she looks beautiful.
It’s a tight fit on the sofa for the both of them. Whenever Dayla leans back to come up for air and marvel that sh
