The Matchmaker's Choice: A Lesbian Romance - Page 81

together and clasps my palm to hers. The heat of her is

reassuring. Her hand is more than just a lifeline. Her hand is

solid. Her hand is real. Her hand tells me that she’s

understanding. That she’s not going to up and disappear on

me. At least I think that’s what it’s telling

me. That’s what I

choose to believe it’s telling me.

“I’ll book us tickets. Does it matter what night?”

“Aren’t they just on weekends? Plays?”

“No. There are places that have shows running during

the week.”

“Oh.”

I feel hopelessly uncultured right now. Why did I never

go to the theater? I went when I was a kid to small time

productions. My mom took me once. Why didn’t we ever do it

again? Why didn’t I think to do it myself?

I’ve even booked a few dates for clients where they

went to the theater. Why did it never occur to me to go there

myself? Because I was single? Because it wasn’t something I

would have done even when I wasn’t single?

When I look up into Steph’s face, I can see that she

doesn’t think I’m uncultured. She’s not judging me for never

going. She’s not holding it over me that she knows more than I

do about something. Of course she wouldn’t. She’s Steph.

She’s a truly nice person, from what I know of her. She’s used

to taking people who know nothing about something, helping

those who are struggling, and getting them to a place where

they can be proud of their accomplishment. She’s probably the

best teacher in the whole school. She just has something about

her that people are probably immediately drawn to and feel

Tags: Alexa Woods Romance
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