Something to Talk About(82)

“I’m glad we didn’t have any asthma incidents,” Jo said. “Like last trip.”

Maybe Jo was only talking about her asthma. Maybe Emma shouldn’t have read into this.

It was just that asthma had been a stand-in, of sorts. For when Jo wanted to talk about something more, something bigger.

It was fitting that asthma should be the metaphor for whatever was between them. Because sometimes Jo looked at Emma and Emma felt like she couldn’t breathe. Jo smiled and Emma’s chest clenched. Right now, Emma felt like she needed to kiss Jo more than she needed oxygen.

“Happy birthday, Ms. Kaplan,” Jo said. “I hope it’s a good one.”

Emma had forgotten it was her birthday.

It was her birthday. It was her birthday and Jo told her to go for what she wanted. Still, she couldn’t believe what she was doing even as she did it. She took a step closer and put one hand on the car door, holding where Jo’s window was rolled down. Jo looked up at her and Emma leaned over, leaned closer.

It was the buildup of the trip, of Jo adjusting her scarf in front of the restaurant and letting Emma fall asleep on her shoulder. It was the buildup of the past year, even. Emma leaned closer and Jo straightened up, maybe unintentionally, maybe out of surprise, but she straightened up enough that Emma’s mouth could land easily on hers. It was just the soft press of their lips together, no desperation, no tongue. Jo pushed herself closer. A shiver ran through Emma’s entire body. She wanted to capture this moment, take a picture in her mind so she could never forget it.

As quickly as she leaned over, she stood back up, hand still clutching the door. Her eyes stayed closed for a moment.

“It’s pretty good so far,” she said, and turned to climb the stairs to her apartment building.

Her skin tingled everywhere. Her mouth was numb without Jo’s against it. It took her two tries to get her key in the door, and she didn’t look back when she went inside.

When she got to her apartment, she looked out the window. Jo must have had Chloe wait to see the lights go on in her apartment—her car was only just pulling away. Emma rubbed her fingers over her lips and couldn’t believe herself.



* * *



—

The first thing Emma did when she woke up was check her phone. She scrolled through a huge variety of birthday messages and found nothing from Jo. That was . . . good, probably. She’d see her tomorrow at work. They could figure things out then.

Jo had kissed her back. Of that Emma was sure. There wasn’t tongue or anything; it wasn’t a big kiss, but she had kissed her back. She’d leaned closer. Emma shivered just thinking about it. Maybe Jo would change her mind, maybe she wouldn’t want whatever Emma wanted—though Emma herself wasn’t sure what that was yet, not really. But she’d kissed back. Emma was always going to have that.

She was still thinking about it when Avery showed up at her door with cinnamon rolls and a cupcake with a candle in it.

Avery grinned and sang all of “Happy Birthday” to her.

Emma closed her eyes. As she blew out the candle, she wished for Jo to want to kiss her again.

“What’d you wish for?” Avery asked.

Emma busied herself with taking the cinnamon rolls to the kitchen so her sister couldn’t see her blush.

“You know I can’t tell you—then it won’t come true.”

“I can’t believe you follow the same rules as my ten-year-olds,” Avery said.

“Well, they’ve always been precocious,” Emma said. “Should I pop two of these in the oven? You want yours warmed, yes?”

“What am I—a heathen? Of course I want it warmed.”

Emma put two of the cinnamon rolls in her oven. Her sister had brought her a dozen—she was set for breakfast all week.

“So how was the trip?” Avery said.

“Good,” Emma said, going for nonchalant. “She approved everything. So that’s officially where we’ll film.”

“And how was the kissing?” Avery asked.

Emma startled. “What? There was no—why do you think—” She cringed, knowing she’d given herself away.

Indeed, Avery’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God. I was just teasing, but you actually kissed, didn’t you?”

“Um, maybe?”

“Emma Judith Kaplan!” Avery smacked her on the arm. “This is amazing. I need details. What was it like? How did it happen?”

Emma flushed and couldn’t stop her smile. Avery sounded as excited as she was about the whole thing. The oven timer went off then, and Avery waved Emma away.

“I’ll get them,” she said. “You talk.”

Emma tried to explain what it was like at the restaurant. How the thought of leaving Jo had suddenly pummeled her in the chest. She tried to explain the tension on the sidewalk or in the car on the way home from the airport. Like there was electricity in the air. Like the part in a movie where the soundtrack lets you know something important is about to happen.

“And then she said she hoped I had a good birthday, and I just—I—I leaned down and she leaned up, just a little, and I kissed her.”

Avery put a plate with a cinnamon roll on it in front of Emma, but Emma couldn’t be bothered right now.

“I kissed her,” she said again. “And she kissed back. And it wasn’t even that big of a kiss but it was amazing, Avery, gosh, it was so good. She kissed me back. And then I just pulled back and said my birthday had been pretty good so far, and then I came inside.”