Angel wished they could step out of Lily’s arms right that second. Her fingers were already playing with the hem of their shirt though. It was hard to subtly step back. Angel stared at Lily’s mouth just so they didn’t have to make eye contact. Every part of Angel’s being was feeling uncomfortable.

“You look shocked,” Lily laughed. Angel shakily smacked on a smile. “I hope that doesn’t change what we have going on.”

“I think it does.” Angel admitted. They finally listened to their body, like they should have done from the start, and pulled away. “I’m sorry.”

The taller woman didn’t look very disappointed. Her energy was as light and relaxed as always, but what did Angel expect? They’d just met. Most surprisingly, Angel wasn’t disappointed either. They were disappointed Lily didn’t meet their expectations, but that was about it. 

More than anything else, Angel was relieved. They wouldn’t have to make this ill fit match work anymore just to call this night a success. They could give up. And maybe talk to Brit if she was still around. That thought made them smile. 

Lily was smiling too, looking over Angel’s head with a fixed gaze.

“I think it’s for the best,” Lily smirked. The words felt cryptic but Angel couldn’t ask more when she walked away.

For one horrible moment, Angel felt regret. They were no less single now than they were walking through those bar doors. Their plans for the night had failed but, to use Lily’s words, maybe it was for the best. 

The truth was, Brit was right. Angel was desperate. They constantly ached to share their life with someone else and finally experience the romance they’d dreamed of for so long. But forcing that romance to happen wasn’t the answer.

It should feel right and comfortable, and it was wrong with Lily from the start. 

Angel stared up at the ceiling, imagining that God or whichever mythical beings populating the sky were peering down them through the panels. 

Sorry for forcing my romance tonight. I promise I’ll leave the matchmaking to you from now on. 

They felt surprisingly light. Giving up was more freeing than they imagined. In that moment, dancing didn’t sound so bad.

That’s when someone walked up behind them, their clothes brushing Angel’s bare neck. Every hair on Angel’s body stood at attention, hopefully it was who they thought it was. 

“You need a dance partner?”

—————

Brit swept into view, as gorgeous and casually dressed as Angel remembered. Silently, she put out an upturned hand and Angel took it. That wispy indie song still flowed through the speakers so they followed its cues. Slowly, Brit placed Angel’s hands on her neck and put her own hands on Angel’s hips. 

The difference was astounding. Angel leaned into Brit’s touch, letting it warm her skin. She almost moaned at how good it felt to finally touch the taller woman. Embarrassed, she put her forehead to Brit’s chest which only made her face burn hotter. Brit was hiding a curvy figure under her clothes. Angel’s mind raced to the worst of places, curiosity getting the best of her.

“Are you okay?” Brit asked, swaying them both to the music. Angel let her guide their movements, it was comforting to let her take control. The way she danced wasn’t so different from Lily, but the result on Angel’s body was night and day. 

“Between you and Lily, I think I’m having the worst luck.”

Brit took that as a joke. Good. Angel was embarrassed enough to realize she’d fallen for the wrong person. Luckily, her new crush hadn’t figured her out.

“Don’t beat yourself up. You couldn’t have known.”

The last few hours and all of Brit’s warnings held a new meaning. Angel’s eyes went wide and she looked up, catching Brit’s gaze.

“You were trying to warn me about her partner,” Angel sighed. “And I didn’t listen.”

“It’s more my fault than anything. I couldn’t have explained it worse if I tried,” Brit joked, expertly easing the tension yet again. Angel liked that about her too, how she used humor for kindness. She liked a lot of things about her. When she prompted Angel to drop her head again, Angel gave in. She breathed in as deeply and subtly as she could. Brit smelled amazing. She wanted to huff her smell like a drug. 

“There’s no shame in giving it a shot,” Brit whispered right into Angel’s ear. She still thought Angel was into Lily. The irony was ridiculous. But if being visibly conflicted kept getting her this treatment, Angel didn’t want to clarify. She would ride this wave as long as she could, holding onto Brit like it really meant something. 

“I guess there isn’t.”

Some slow RnB song started playing next, the bass itself sounding sexual. Angel’s body hummed with awareness, all too aware of the woman she’d plastered herself against. Brit turned out to be a great dancer, naturally finding the rhythm and helping Angel get there too.

Brit’s hands started tracing Angel’s spine, sliding up and down the lines woven into her top. Sighing, Angel tightened her grip. Brit had placed Angel’s hands up the fabric of her hood. Angel started fiddling with the beads, smiling a bit when Brit shivered. 

“Angel,” Brit said, forcing Angel to stop her exploration. “I want to tell you the truth.”

Angel’s heart stuttered fearfully. This was starting to feel like a rejection so she tensed her body, readying herself for the disappointment. 

“Okay.”

“I hate pride month.”

Angel laughed before she could help it. Offensive or not, she guffawed right into Brit’s sweater, brushing blush and foundation onto the material.

“I’m sorry,” Angel managed to say with just a few chuckles. “That was the last thing I was expecting.”

“I get it. It’s weird,” Brit agreed, wincing a bit as she spoke. “I’m not secretly homophobic or anything. Pride month just reminds me of my ex-girlfriend.” 

Brit’s full palm pressed against Angel’s back as she hummed, gathering her words.

“We broke up a few years ago. I’m usually fine but June is the one time I can’t forget. She was my first everything, you know? She got me into queer culture, helped me figure out who I was. I’ve never even been to a pride parade without her,” Brit chuckled mirthlessly, like the idea pained her. “But while I was planning our forever, she still couldn’t get her family to accept her. In the end, she went back to dating men and I was left to pick up the pieces.”

A few stray tears started to roll down Brit’s cheeks. Angel swept them away with her thumbs, her heart aching for Brit. Angel got her all wrong. Brit was the exact opposite of a player. She loved so hard that she got hurt. 

“All of this stuff–the parades and the rainbows–remind me of her. That’s why I usually just avoid people for the month and hide in my apartment.”

“Then why are you here? This is a terrible way to avoid pride.”

“My mom,” Brit groaned. “She kind of forced me.”

Angel shouldn’t laugh in someone’s face seconds after they cried, but she couldn’t help it! The thought of Brit, so confident and in control, sulking over to the bar because of her mother was comical.

“I’m serious! She gives me so much grief for being dramatic during June and if I didn’t want her talking about my ex for the entire month, I had to do something.”

The story behind Brit’s sweatsuit was so much deeper than Angel could have imagined. And even while talking about her heartbreak, she managed to make Angel smile. Still, one thing wouldn’t leave her mind.

“You really hate pride?”

Brit shrugged, breaking eye contact like the answer was a resounding yes!

“Not in theory,” She clarified, scratching the back of her head. “I just get so grumpy when I try to attend stuff because of my own stupid memories.”

Angel nodded, her mind running a mile a minute. Most days, Angel’s could spend hours imagining her future relationship. She always imagined the happy ending, having the girlfriend that she loved and trusted. She didn’t think about all of the heartbreak she might go through along the way. On the other hand, heartbreak was the only thing Brit remembered every time June rolled around.  

“I think you need someone to make new memories with,” Angel announced, growing more confident when she heard the words aloud. “What’s your schedule look like for, I don’t know . . . the rest of June?”

Brit was beaming, confused but mirroring the expression on Angel’s face. 

“You want to make some Pride Month memories with me?”

“Of course!” 

Angel remembered that Brit wasn’t interested and was possibly still getting over that ex so she quickly added. “What are friends for?”

Brit’s steps slowed and eventually she stopped dancing altogether. Her smile had slipped away, replaced with something Angel couldn’t pinpoint. She was staring down at Angel, barely blinking, for almost a minute. If this was what Angel looked like all night, she felt bad for everyone she ever stared at.

Brit watched Angel’s face so intently, eyes tracing the shape of her face and slope of her nose. Every detail seemed important to her and Angel wanted to squirm under all that attention. Her heart thumped away violently in her chest. She actually shivered. 

Finally, Brit frowned, sweeping her tongue over her bottom lip again like Angel wasn’t right there. Angel watched in agony, wishing she could do it herself.

“Hey, I really like you,” Brit said. She wasn’t smiling but Angel just laughed it off, trying not to read into it.

“I like you too. And that is surprising considering our first conversation-”

“I mean, I’ve been thinking about kissing you for hours now.” 

That shut Angel right up. She stood, transfixed, while Brit’s hands tightened around her back. 

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time you spoke to me,” she admitted as her eyes went all soft. “I really like you, Angel, and it feels like we’ve become friends which is still dope as fuck. But also, maybe we shouldn’t be friends because I really want to kiss you.”

Brit’s eyes flickered down to Angel’s mouth, the intent behind her stare now abundantly clear. And Angel wanted it. She wanted that kiss so bad, her eyes must have been begging for it. Angel’s entire body felt warm, buzzing with the promise of what’s to come. 

Then Brit stepped back, dragging a hand down her own face.

“Sorry. That was a lot.”

No. Why is she walking away? Why does she look like I’ve already rejected her?

“I know that I’m not your type so sorry for making things awkward.” 

Brit chuckled even when nothing was funny. Angel’s hands hung limply at her sides, confused by the situation before her. Her happy ending was turning around and trying to find the door.

Sorry God, I have to force things one last time.

Angel ran to Brit’s side, grabbing one of her hands in a vice grip. 

“Kiss me.”

Brit’s mouth fell open but she wasn’t pulling away. This terrified Angel on a whole new level but she swallowed down her own nerves and did not let go. 

“I want you to kiss me,” she managed to whisper. 

Slowly, Brit cupped Angel’s cheek and brought their faces close. Angel’s breath stuttered when their lips barely touched. Once, twice. Brit was teasing her, the jerk. Angel groaned, grabbing a handful of fabric at Brit’s back. “Just do it-”

Angel gasped when Brit swooped down, kissing her with all the passion in the world. Her lips were full and soft, expertly guiding the novice mouth beneath hers. There was nothing shy about the way she kissed Angel. Her confidence alone made Angel swoon, becoming putty in the other woman’s hands. Before long, Angel’s knees went weak and Brit just held her up, pulling and pressing until Angel was flush against her. 

Kissing Brit felt like coming home. Brit tasted like cozy nights on the couch and long walks on the beach. When she kissed her, Angel saw candlelight dinners and late morning coffee runs. It was passion and comfort and everything in between. 

Angel forgot time and space when she kissed Brit. The music and the bar and the few people still scattered about the dancefloor fell away. All Angel felt was Brit’s kiss and the future it promised. 

This was it. 

This was her happy ending.