Carys opened her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” Greta said. “She sounds truly awful.”

“She’s sad,” Carys stated. “It’s really, really sad when someone’s so fragile that the truth feels like an attack. Anyway.” She shrugged. “It’s better if I don’t see her much. And when I do, I just go in like—” She swept a hand down like a forcefield between herself and the world. “Anything she says, I just say, ‘okay,’ and move on.”

Greta lay down on her back beside Carys. “I think it’s pretty amazing that you confronted her. Even if it didn’t work out the way you wanted. I don’t think I could ever do that.”

“Confront your family?”

“Confront anyone,” Greta mumbled. “Like, I yell at my sisters sometimes, because we fight and we say mean shit all the time, but it’s not a real confrontation.”

Carys turned on her side and propped herself up on one elbow, looking at Greta. “What’s a real confrontation to you?”

Greta turned so they were face-to-face. “A truth, I guess? A hard truth that you tell someone about themself or about you that you know will lead to strife.”

“Hmm.” Carys’ eyes roamed her face. “What about a soft truth?”

“Huh?” Greta blinked, lost in Carys’ curls and skin and eyes and mouth.

“I have this extremely soft truth that I would love to confront you with…”

Greta smiled and slid her knee between Carys’. “Oh yeah?”

Carys spread her legs in invitation. “Mm-hmm.”

Carys’ eyelids lowered, and Greta’s heart started to beat faster.

Greta trailed her fingertips up Carys’ bare arm and watched the hairs stand up. When she reached her shoulder, Greta leaned in and caught Carys’ mouth in a kiss. Carys pressed a hot tongue against hers. It was soft—so soft Greta was melting in honeyed sweetness. Then Carys was pressing against her, also so soft, but with an urgency that made her clit throb and her nipples tingle.

“Fuck, you really are soft.”

Carys answered with the sexiest, wickedest smile Greta had ever seen. “Sure am. C’mere.”

She pulled Greta on top of her and they kissed—wild, deep, lose-your-breath kisses that set Greta reeling.

Every nerve ending responded to Carys; every inch of her skin was sensitized. When Carys tipped her head to the side and licked a line up Greta’s neck, Greta shuddered.

Carys mmmed appreciatively and rolled Greta onto the bed.

“May I?”

When Greta nodded, Carys stripped her of her clothes.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Carys said. “What do you want?”

Greta opened her mouth, but nothing came out. It was clear that Carys sincerely wanted to know. But Greta didn’t have any idea what she wanted. Just…

“You,” she said, hoping it would be enough.

It wasn’t.