Iris Kelly Doesn't Date (Bright Falls, #3)

by Ashley Herring Blake

“Bad? She looked so nice.” “Oh, she was,” Iris said. “Nice and sweet and grateful, especially when I was cleaning up her puke.” Simon’s eyes went wide. “What.”

HAHAH

Six months single, Stevie still wasn’t quite sure who she was on her own, which scared the shit out of her.

“I was just . . . hang on.” His pushed up his glasses, then pointed his finger at Stevie. “Aren’t you the throw-up girl?” “Simon, Jesus,” Iris said.

Then Stevie realized exactly why she felt so wild and free upon hitting the water—her bathing suit strap had snapped and was currently drifting in front of her while the pool’s waves lapped at her .

She pulled the covers back, ready to crash, then froze. There, set right in the middle of her pillow, was a perfectly pink sea scallop shell.

“I think she’s calling you a bisexual disaster, Aunt Iris,” Ruby said.

ruby ate lmfaoooo

Ruby just shrugged. “Like, you know, all the wooing and—” “Ruby,” Claire snapped. “Go. Text. Your father.”

“What?” Iris asked, her own voice a whisper. “I want you,” Stevie said again.

“I know you’ve had some shitty people say they love you. I know you don’t think you’re built for dating and relationships. And if you truly don’t want that in your life, fine. I won’t argue with you. But I wanted you to be sure. I wanted to show you.”

Tears spilled down Iris’s cheeks. “Show me what?”

AWWWWW

Iris didn’t move back. She couldn’t. There were only inches between them now and it felt like too much.

OMGGG YESS

In her place was a woman whose heart felt tender and raw. A woman who was tired, so fucking tired of fighting the way Stevie Scott made her feel.

“Show me what?” she asked one more time. “Stevie.” Stevie pressed her forehead to Iris’s. “That you’re worth loving.”

SHUT UPPP :'(

For the first time in over a year, maybe even since Grant or before—maybe for the first time in her life—she wanted to say yes, to everything, every word and every question and every quiet look.

“Purple bearded irises,” Iris said, picking up a jar and pressing her face into the flowers. “How did you know these are my favorite?” Stevie shrugged. “Lucky guess? They’re all over your planners. Also, the name. I figured you’d love the name.”

awwww

“Ever since we met, I thought I was the one who was scared,” Stevie said, her voice low and quiet. Steady. “I’m the one who needed confidence. I needed to take a chance. I needed to be brave. But really, all this time, it was you. You’re the real coward, Iris. Aren’t you?”

So she didn’t answer. She didn’t say anything at all. Instead, she simply walked away, leaving the woman she loved crying in her doorway. Just like the coward they both knew she was.

“Express concern that my beloved daughter keeps running away from her own life?”

YUP CALL HER OUTT

“Yeah,” Iris said. Maybe a name would help. Make it a little more personable. “I’m Iris.” Her partner smiled. “Beatrice.” Iris’s heart beat everywhere—her throat, her fingertips, her stomach. By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me!

OMG LMFAOOO

No, Iris wasn’t broken. Iris Kelly was in love.

She felt her friends on either side of her, gentle hands on her back, waiting for her. Loving her. Because Iris Kelly was worth loving. And she always had been. She turned around, smiled at them. “I need to go to New York.”

Iris had drawn herself standing on a street in front of a red brick building, her back to the viewer. Her hair was dark in the dim light, long and wild, and she wore jeans and heeled brown boots, a grass-green pea coat. And in one hand, held loosely at her side, was a single yellow tulip.

Iris was standing at the bottom of a set of stone steps. Familiar steps. Familiar double glass doors at the top. Familiar decorative cornices around the windows.

“I spent a lot of time,” Iris went on, “convincing myself I wasn’t built to last, wasn’t built for romance, for love. But maybe . . .” Tears bloomed into her eyes. “Maybe I was just built for you.”