39. Chapter 39

“Hey, check out your sister, Kara!” Winn says, and Maggie’s stomach sinks.

Since she told Alex that they couldn’t be together; since Alex insisted they weren’t friends, that she didn’t think Maggie wanted her (the ludicrous thought pained Maggie beyond belief); since Maggie had pleaded for two minutes of her time and they’d met for pool the next night, they’d been… fine. They’d been good. They’d been close, they’d been caring, they’d been affectionate and they’d been happy.

But only as friends.

And it was destroying Maggie from the inside out.

Especially now, especially as Kara turned, as James turned, as Maggie – not wanting to, but having to – turned in the direction Winn had indicated, to find the sight of Alex, shooting pool with a gorgeous brunette who was giving her bedroom eyes; the sight of Alex, laughing effortlessly at the gorgeous brunette’s jokes, which Maggie immediately decided must be distinctly unfunny; the sight of Alex, bending said gorgeous brunette over the pool table to show her the proper way to position the cue.

It’s not even that Alex is clearly flirting with this woman – and doing a damn good job – that drives Maggie out of her mind. It’s not even that Alex is pressing her body flush against the woman’s backside that drives Maggie most out of her seat. No.

What makes Maggie stand, what makes Maggie gulp, what makes Maggie stride purposefully over to the pool table as Winn, James, and Kara fall silent and hit at each other’s shoulders as they watch, is Alex’s eyes.

Because as she bends another woman over a pool table, much closer than she needed to be to show her how to properly shoot pool, Alex’s eyes seek and find Maggie’s. Alex’s eyes lock into Maggie’s from all the way across the bar, and Alex’s eyes hold them, even as she positions this other woman’s fingers, even as this other woman leans her ass back into Alex’s body.

Alex’s eyes are on Maggie’s, and they hold a challenge, they hold a see what you’re missing, and Maggie can’t accept that.

“You seemed perfectly content to let me keep holding the cue the wrong way, Danvers; this girl must have a game even worse than mine if you need to show her what to do.”

The woman scoffs and the woman turns to Alex to defend her, but Maggie’s hand is on Alex’s wrist and she’s spun Alex around, away from this other woman, this irrelevant woman, because she should have done this long, long ago, friendship be damned, caution be damned, past heartbreak be damned.

She has Alex pinned against the pool table before Alex can formulate a response, before Alex can process what’s happening.

Alex’s breath hitches and Alex gulps and Alex is completely unconscious of the scandalized, offended scoff of the woman whose name she suddenly can’t remember, because Maggie Sawyer’s body is flush against hers, her hands pinning her back against the pool table on either side of her hips, and Maggie’s breath is in her ear and her voice is low and her voice is dripping with hurt and with jealousy and with raw, raw want.

“I never said I didn’t want you, Danvers. So, you wanna spend the rest of the night with a pale imitation of what you really want? Or you wanna spend it with me?”

Alex has no witty response and Alex has no cool retort.

“You… you want me?” she rasps, and her eyes dart to Maggie’s lips.

“I do,” Maggie whispers, and she’s kissing her, and the world is spinning, and their friends are whooping and that woman is storming away and M’gann is raising her glass toward the pool table in an it’s about damn time gesture and Maggie’s tongue is in her mouth and Alex is melting and Maggie’s arms are the only things keeping her on the ground and that is okay because Maggie Sawyer is kissing her and god she should have made her jealous earlier because this? This is bliss.