Broken Wings by L J Baker Page B

them make sense of shapes
and colours.”
    “This doesn’t?”
    “Not as much. I don’t understand what it’s supposed to be. But it feels okay to
look at.”
    Flora smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
    “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say anything. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
    “You gave me your honest reaction. I can’t ask for better.” Flora gently stroked
Rye’s sleeve. “I don’t know many people who are unafraid enough to be as honest
as you are. I don’t just mean this. I was thinking about in the carpet the other
night.”
    Rye frowned down at the floor. Honest. That was the last thing she could be.
    “I’ve upset you,” Flora said. “I’m sorry.”
    Rye shook her head. She discovered that she was holding Flora’s hand. She lifted
it to her lips to lightly kiss it. She was suddenly aware of Flora’s body so
close and the musky smell of Flora’s perfume. Flora took a deep breath and her
fingers curled around Rye’s. Her eyes looked dark and intense. That elusive hint
of pine sap diffused up into Rye’s brain again. She pulled Flora against her to
kiss.
    “Oh, Elm,” Flora whispered.
    Their lips parted and their tongues joined eagerly. Flora pressed warm and
pliable all against Rye’s front. Her chest rubbed against Rye as her breasts
firmed with her arousal. Rye groaned and buried her face in Flora’s neck.
    Flora stiffened and pulled away. She put her hands against Rye’s ribs. Her
hardened chest rose and fell rapidly.
    “Is this a good idea?” Flora said.
    Rye swallowed and tried to get her brain working again. She stumbled back. Her
wing buds pressed against the wall. Rye used the discomfort to help bring
herself back to sanity.
    “Fey,” Rye said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to – Shit.”
    “You’re not going to run out on me?”
    “No.”
    “Let’s go and sit down.”
    As Rye trailed Flora back into the living room, she wriggled her errant wing
buds back into place.
    “Look,” Flora said, “I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know when I
say that I am very attracted to you. But I’ve been burned. I don’t want that to
happen again. You came on like a falling tree. I wouldn’t have minded, but I
think I need you to tell me when you’re ready.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “I don’t mind. If you say today, I’ll be more than happy to pick up where we
left off. If we have to wait, I shall. There’s more to a relationship than sex.
Or should be, to make it worthwhile. But you have to tell me.”
    Even though Holly was not due home for another hour, Rye felt nervous about
Flora flying her all the way up to the apartment’s parking pad. She should’ve
asked Flora to drop her off at the corner of the street, just to be safe.
    “When can I see you again?” Flora said. “Second Night is your night class, isn’t
it? How about Third Night?”
    “Um. I can’t. I’ll be working.”
    Flora frowned. “You work nights, too?”
    “On First and Third Nights. Second Night and every second Fourth Night is night
class.”
    “You have two jobs?”
    “How about next Fifth Day?” Rye said. “I’m sure I can work something out with
Holly.”
    “I’ll look forward to it. Call me.”
    “Of course.”
    Late on Fourth Day afternoon, Rye stood in the line at the pay hut door.
    “You coming to the bar, Rye?” Knot said.
    “Nah,” Rye said.
    “You got a hot date?” Blackie asked.
    “Real hot,” Rye said. “I’ve got to fix the bloody table leg.”
    “If it’s stiff legs you want to play with, Rye,” Budge called from farther down
the line, “reckon we could find someone at the pub for you, eh, Knot?”
    Most of the blokes within earshot laughed. Rye made an obscene gesture
suggestive of Budge’s inability to hold an erection.
    “Woods!” Grub called. “Wake up.”
    Rye stepped inside to stand at the table.
    “Full week,” Grub said. “No deductions. Sign here.”
    Rye signed her name beneath all the X’s, thumbprints,