Confessions , Interruptions , and Unwanted Calls
Amara handed over a fresh set of clothes to Elara, barely able to make eye contact as her fingers brushed against Elara's for the briefest of moments. "Here," she mumbled, feeling her cheeks heat up once again. "You can change in the guest room. It's just down the hall."
Elara, as always, smiled that infuriatingly perfect smile and winked. "Thanks, Amara. Don't miss me too much while I'm gone."
Amara nearly choked on her own breath, watching as Elara sauntered down the hall. Miss her? The woman was impossible. Every word out of her mouth seemed designed to send Amara spiraling into another dimension of awkwardness and blushing. She needed to get it together.
Before she could even attempt to regain her composure, her mother appeared out of nowhere, like she always did when Amara least expected it. "You should tell her, you know," her mother said with a sly smile.