Page 57 of Extraction Play
“Nope. Most of San Francisco is still brand-new territory for me.”
Pixie flashed Eva a grin. “Consider this a part of your education.” She cracked the door open, and the salt air swept her way. Pixie drew in a long, deep inhale, waiting for Eva to get out before locking her car. She took the first steps toward the trail, and Eva slipped beside her, offering her hand. Their fingers intertwined, like so many other times tonight, and the zing of electricity circuiting through her lit her up.
It was the perfect symbol of what she’d felt from Eva from the start—like the woman had been instinctively reaching toward her. Her friends looked after her, and she knew, deep down, they cared about her, but she’d also kept them at a distance.
Because none of them werehers. Not like Eva was.
She wasn’t supposed to hook up with Eva, let alone fall for her, yet she hadn’t been able to stop from tumbling headfirst. They reached the top of the trail and made their way down. In the distance, water pooled in the ruins of the baths. The ocean crashed below, white swells unfurling like blossoms. Above them, the sky spanned out, the color of shadows and sin, navy blues, deep purples, and velvet black. Her heart thundered louder than the crash of the waves as they descended closer to the baths.
“If the position in Portland isn’t your dream, what is it?” Eva asked, her voice slicing through the somber dark.
Pixie licked her lips. Hell of a question. For so long, she’d spent her life surviving. College had been an awakening, the first time she’d gotten to unleash, to not be responsible for another human. But in the last five years, she’d felt…aimless.
Art was her passion, but she’d found success with that, enough for a livelihood.
“It’s going to sound stupid,” she said, the wind almost stealing her words away.
Eva squeezed her hand as they headed farther down, the roar of the ocean getting louder the closer they got to the baths. “It won’t. I promise.”
“I…want a home.” She might as well not even be wearing her sweats and hoodie with how stripped down she felt. Except Eva’s hand in hers made it easier to be brave. “I’ve never had one. Even my condo is just a place I happen to live, not somewhere I planted roots.”
When Pixie glanced in her direction, their gazes snagged. She could drown in those dark eyes, a depth there that sparked colors to life in her brain.
“I understand completely,” Eva said, her voice thick. “When I think back on the relationship with Jack, what hurt me most was losing my home. We’d already been drifting before we crashed and burned.”
Pixie squeezed Eva’s hand, still intertwined with hers. No wonder this pull had grown so strong neither of them could ignore it.
“Come here.” Pixie drew Eva toward the overlook. Her heart kept rising as high as the stars in the sky as if she could float among them. She found a spot along the wooden railing and hoisted herself up. Eva sat beside her, nudging in until their thighs touched.
The waves thundered ahead of them, the violence of the ocean beckoning her like it always had. Years ago, the sense of oblivion had tugged her forward as if she could unload her burdens and lose herself there. However, now she saw it as it truly was: a wild, uncontrollable force. A little bit like fate, a lot like love.
“You make me want to stay,” Pixie confessed, the truth bubbling up inside her, refusing to be stifled anymore. “My whole life, I’ve longed to run from this place. From the memories, the hurt, the responsibilities of being around the area meant. However, if you’re in this city, I want to be here too.”
“I want to move to San Francisco. After getting uprooted from my old life, I’m shaky about landing anywhere, but this is the first place where anyone welcomed me. My brother lives here. And if I’m being honest, you are a major factor.”
“So I’m not alone in what I’m feeling?” Pixie asked, her heart thrumming hard.
Eva wrapped her arm around Pixie’s shoulders, drawing her in close. Pixie leaned her head against her, drawing a deep inhale of her peach shampoo. Strands of her ponytail tickled Pixie’s face, and the heat from Eva’s body softly pressing against hers seeped into her. She didn’t dare move away from the comfort of this moment.
“You’re not alone,” Eva said. Those words sank into her bones like a brand. After so, so long bearing the world’s weight on her shoulders, like she was the only one who could carry it, she was beginning to realize maybe she didn’t have to.
That maybe the others wouldn’t abandon her just because her family had.
And that was due to Eva unlocking her door as if she’d been waiting with a key.
The wind whipped her hair around, and she drank in the salt-scented air. Up here, she felt a little wilder, a little more real. With Eva wrapped around her and facing the roiling ocean below, Pixie was as unending as the sprawl of the water stretching across the horizon.
She’d never fallen in love before, but with this woman—she just might.
***
After an hour of sitting and watching the waves, Pixie’s fingers and cheeks had turned to ice. They’d chatted idly amid long stretches of silence, ambulatory conversation that only happened with true comfort, where neither felt forced to perform some social dance and could speak at whim. The waves crashed in a cyclical rhythm, a melody that soothed her soul.
“You want to get out of here?” Pixie asked but didn’t move from her cozy spot in Eva’s arms. “While the view’s gorgeous, I’m pretty sure I’ll get frostbite.”
Eva snorted. “Like it even gets cold here.” She ran her fingers through Pixie’s hair, which sent a shiver down her spine. “Where do you have in mind?”
“How do you feel about another surprise?” Pixie nuzzled against Eva.