Truly enough, p.1
Truly Enough, page 1
Truly Enough
Synopsis
Robyn Moore is a firefighter by trade and a lesbian lothario by choice. After losing her father and witnessing her mother’s broken heart, Robyn learns that loving someone never ends well. Spending her days trying to honor her father’s legacy isn’t easy, and the best way to blow off steam is by falling into bed with whomever happens to be available.
Lexi Lynch is an artist with a passion for painting. That is, until real life kicked in and bills piled up. To prove to her overprotective father that her chosen profession isn’t a mistake, Lexi takes on commissions that pay well but bore her to tears. Missed deadline after deadline has her career in jeopardy with the only bright spot in her days being her gorgeous friend and roommate, Robyn.
As Lexi leans on Robyn for support, more than just a creative spark flares between them. Their close proximity may ignite a fiery romance or send their friendship up in flames.
Truly Enough
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By the Author
Truly Wanted
Truly Enough
Truly Enough
© 2023 By J.J. Hale. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-63679-443-3
This Electronic Original Is Published By
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: June 2023
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Jenny Harmon
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design by Tammy Seidick
eBook Design by Toni Whitaker
Acknowledgments
Thanks to everyone I already thanked in Book #1. You’re all still awesome humans who enable me to write books about queer, neurodivergent women kissing a lot, and that’s pretty cool. Also a big thank you to Lego for providing me with ample procrastination methods. Lastly, thank you to anyone who took a chance on a new author and picked up my first novel. I’ve always said that if my writing made even one person feel a little more understood, it would be worth it. The words of encouragement from people who took time out of their days to tell me they enjoyed my story, or to tell me it made them laugh or cry or lose sleep just to finish it (the highest compliment!) have been the best way to motivate my brain to keep writing.
To my nan, who Lexi gets her middle name from.
You always believed I could do anything I put my mind to, even when putting my mind to anything felt impossible.
I wish you could be here to see my dream come true,but I’m very glad I don’t have to try to hide the sex scenes.
Chapter One
Robyn Moore got home from her day shift as a firefighter and took in the chaotic scene, in what was supposed to be her living room, with a sigh. Several half-painted canvases were strewn across the oak coffee table they had recently found at a car boot sale and spent a weekend upcycling. Paint pots dotted between them precariously, threatening to interfere with the pattern on their newly revived table. Finally, her eyes landed on her haggard-looking roommate as she sat on their old leather couch, staring straight ahead, paintbrush in hand. Her face was creased in what appeared to be more anguish than concentration.
“Earth to Lexi, what’s going on here?”
She waited a moment for Lexi to hear her words, something she’d gotten used to in the three and a half years they’d lived together. A beat later, her friend snapped out of it and lifted her honey brown eyes to meet Robyn’s. They’d been roommates long enough that Robyn knew when not to break Lexi’s creative flow, but what she’d witnessed when she walked through the door had been anything but flowing.
“Shit, sorry, time got away from me. I’ll clean this place up.”
Lexi gathered her stuff together as she continued to speak. “The four walls of my bedroom were providing no inspiration, and with the studio closed, I just brought my supplies out here for a little while.”
Lexi finally took a breath and stopped the frantic tidying, confusion furrowing her brow. “I meant to have this tidied before you got back. Did you finish early? What time is it?”
Robyn furrowed her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side. “It’s seven p.m., Lex. I left for my shift at eight a.m., and you were getting set up in your room…”
Lexi grabbed her phone and checked the time as if she needed to see it with her own eyes. “Where the hell did the day go?” She slumped into the chair and let her head fall against her hands. “I need to get this piece done and it’s just not happening.”
Robyn made her way around the mess toward her friend and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “What you need to do is eat, because I’m damn near certain you haven’t done that yet today.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” Robyn cut off the protest that followed. “You tidy this up. I’m ordering food. Then we’re going to relax and watch serial killers get what’s coming to them. Okay?”
“Serial killers and relaxing probably shouldn’t go hand in hand, but surprisingly they do. Thanks, Robbie.”
Robyn brought up the app for their favourite fast-food place and clicked repeat order. It was a Tuesday night so they wouldn’t be waiting too long. She gathered utensils along with the necessary crime binge-watching supplies—chocolate and sugar-loaded sweets. Lexi had the place mostly cleared by the time the hot food was in Robyn’s hands, and she made her way to their worn-in and far too comfortable couch.
“When the delivery guy starts asking how my shift was, it probably means we need to cut back on ordering from this place, right?”
Lexi stared into space, neglecting to respond. Robyn realized that Lexi was still caught up in her own thoughts. She waited a moment for Lexi’s attention to return to her before speaking again.
“What’s going on, Lex? I can hear your thoughts from here.” Robyn started to dole out the food, giving Lexi the time she needed to vocalise what was causing her distracted demeanour. Robyn was used to Lexi taking a few moments to become present, but tonight she seemed more distant than usual and maybe even sad.
Lexi laid her head against the back of the couch. Her warm ivory skin and ash blond hair were pale against the contrasting colour of the dark leather. Given her own jet-black hair and brown eyes, Robyn often joked that Lexi was the sunshine to her darkness. She had nicknamed her Sunny not long after Lexi moved in. The nickname first made an appearance mostly accompanied by sarcasm or scowls, but it had softened over time. It was as close to a term of endearment as Robyn got.
As Robyn looked around the apartment, she noted, not for the first time, that their contrasts went beyond just physical appearance. The darker colours Robyn was naturally drawn to accentuated the bright display of decor Lexi adored. But over the past couple of weeks, the darkness in the background seemed to have descended upon Lexi.
“I just don’t know what to do, Robbie. I feel like somebody came in and sucked the passion right out of me and I’m left with this.” Lexi gestured toward the still near blank canvas propped up on the art easel in the corner. “It’s not fun anymore. And before you say it, I know I’m an adult and life isn’t all fun. I need to pay rent, bills, and buy too much take-out food. But if I don’t meet this next deadline, I won’t be able to afford any of those things. Never mind ruining the reputation I’m trying to build. But I’m stuck.”
Robyn turned fully now and sat cross-legged, plate in her lap as she pointed her fork, prompting Lexi to start eating. “I wouldn’t say that. Just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean you need to hate what you do. I’ve seen how much you love doing this. So, what changed?”
Lexi chewed, her forehead creasing as the silence enveloped them. Eventually, she shrugged. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.”
Robyn hated seeing her usually cheerful friend so lost. It brought forth the fixer in her, the person who wanted to solve all the problems of the world, especially for the people who meant the most to her. Which was a short list. If only she could get a better glimpse into the brilliant, creative brain she admired so much and see what was causing this block.
Robyn wasn’t the artistic type. Her strengths lay far more in the physical realm. The closest she ever got to creativity was the occasional decorating project Lexi dragged her into, in which she mostly did the parts that involved taking things apart and putting them back together again. She didn’t know art, but she knew Lexi. She had heard about people getting blocked, losing their muse, whatever you wanted to call it. But in the years they’d lived together, Robyn had never witnessed it happen to Lexi. Usually, the struggle was getting her roommate to stop painting, not to start.
They ate in relative silence after that, both lost in their thoughts until their plates were clear. Robyn took them and placed them on the coffee table, now free of the earlier chaos. She reached an arm out and Lexi moved beneath it, lying her head against Robyn. It had taken a long time for them to get comfortable, or rather for Robyn to get comfortable enough to be physically close to one another like this.
Physical closeness was something Robyn usually kept separate from emotional closeness in her relationships. Her family wasn’t the hugging type, and any other physical affection she sought was usually a one night only thing. Emotions just complicated that. But somehow, Lexi made it easy, almost natural, to be close. It had happened so slowly Robyn didn’t even remember when it changed.
Robyn grabbed the remote and turned on the crime show they had been bingeing recently on the evenings they were both at home together. They stayed that way, huddled together, watching the drama unfold before them. Robyn pondered how she had ended up spending her off-shift evenings curled up on the couch, holding her roommate. More importantly, how in the world it had gotten to feel this comfortable. She was providing support to a friend in need, one of her favourite people in the world, that was all. That had to be all.
Because she was not about to be a walking lesbian cliché, dreaming about the impossible and wasting time pining for her straight-as-hell roommate.
* * *
The next morning, Lexi Lynch walked the short distance to the studio space she rented at the local theatre. Despite the exorbitant rising rent costs, she loved living in the city and being able to walk or grab a bus to most of the places she needed to go. She had no half-completed pieces to transport from her apartment, considering yesterday had been a total disaster. The time had slowed down and then sped up all at once until she was left staring at an empty canvas with a chest full of fear. Today could not be another failure.
She walked in the side door of the theatre, waving at the front-of-house staff she’d grown to know well, before making her way into her studio room at the back. It was small, but it suited her. Too much space led to too much distraction, and right now she needed to focus and get the pieces she had already committed to finished. She could feel the tension headache start behind her eyebrows as she stood before another blank canvas, willing the creative buzz she knew so intimately to come and engulf her.
Minutes turned to hours, her headache increasing, while the only buzz around was the overhead light, too loud and too bright. The paintbrush hadn’t even dipped into the paint today. Her already low spirits sank to the ground, and she bit her lip to keep the tears from falling. Her phone rang, and it snapped her out of the dark downward spiral of her thoughts. She stared at the name lighting her screen and clicked to answer.
“Hey, Lexi Lou.” Her father’s nickname for her, spoken in his familiar sing-song voice, enveloped her. “How’s my favourite daughter?”
She smiled despite herself and wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “That doesn’t work when I’m your only daughter, Dad.”
He chuckled lightly as she got up, gathering her stuff together as he replied, “Still true. Are you ever gracing us with your presence again, sweetheart?”
The teasing in his voice was evident, but Lexi could tell he was concerned. It had only been a couple of weeks since she had last seen him, but since she often visited several times a week, it might as well have been a year. She paused, trying to decide the best course of action. Being in the comfort of her childhood home, eating a proper home-cooked meal as her parents fussed over her, was exactly what she needed right now. But it would mean conversation about the career he had never approved of in the first place. A career that was currently at a standstill, maybe about to head down a steep decline.
Her father meant well, but he had never been good at hiding his fear about the instability of Lexi pursuing art full time. The thinly veiled questions disguised as curiosity were easier to manage when she had positive news to convey. But she had never been great at hiding anything from her parents either, and it wouldn’t take long for him to realize things weren’t so rosy with her job right now.
Despite that, the grumbling of her long-neglected stomach answered for her. “I’ll be there soon, old man.” She laughed at the string of good-natured epithets that left his mouth at her jibe. She hung up and headed out the door toward the bus, leaving the canvas behind her, still as blank as when the day had begun.
* * *
With a satisfied stomach and a comforted heart, Lexi made her way to her apartment that evening, feeling lighter than when she had left it that morning. As luck would have it, her father had steered clear of any questioning about her career this time. Lexi had an inkling that luck had little to do with it, from the looks her stepmom, Simone, threw at her father anytime the conversation even hinted in that direction.
Simone had been in her life almost as long as she could remember, so the step part was mostly unused. She was Lexi’s mom in every sense that mattered, including the fierce protectiveness she displayed, and her innate sense of knowing when something was up with Lexi, even if it went unspoken. They were worlds apart in physical appearance, with Simone’s rich umber skin and salt-and-pepper hair, but their deeper connection and understanding of each other couldn’t have been closer with genetics.
Her father had done his best in stepping up as a sole parent when Valerie, the woman who gave birth to Lexi, had walked out on them. Lexi would forever be grateful to Simone for coming into their world and allowing her father to go from survival mode to the full, beautiful life they had created as a family. Meeting Valerie for the first time three years ago only solidified to Lexi what she’d always known. She had one mom, and Simone was the reason Lexi was able to pursue her dreams in the first place.
Lexi set her bag down beside the door and padded across the apartment to the room on the right, from which her cosy pyjamas were calling her. She changed into her soft yellow pjs, dotted with bunnies, that her nephew had gifted her for her birthday, complete with bunny-shaped slippers. She smiled as she slid them onto her feet and headed back out in search of a nice cup of tea to end the day.
Robyn’s bedroom door opened, and a tall, beautiful woman stepped out, closing the door behind her. The woman stopped and waved a quick hello, her long blond curls somehow looking perfect, even after she had most likely just rolled out of bed. Lexi was all too aware of her own current attire as she took in the woman’s strapless dress and killer heels. Lexi awkwardly waved back a beat too late, as the woman made her way toward their apartment door. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen this person before, but it was hard to keep up with the revolving door of Robyn’s bedroom.
An irrational zap of jealousy shot through her. It had been so long since she’d been with anyone, that honestly, she’d stopped thinking about it. Painting had taken up most of her time both in life and in her brain as she had established herself the past few years. Dating had not just taken a back seat but had fully left the vehicle.
Yet recently, when women left Robyn’s room, or on the nights Robyn never made it home at all, an ache would take up residence in her chest for a while and refuse to budge. Maybe dating wasn’t completely off her list of priorities after all. Maybe this ache was nudging her toward finding someone to feel close to, even if it were only for a night.
Her only frame of reference for that type of closeness was one steady boyfriend, who had been her best friend for years and whom she trusted completely before they took the next step in their relationship. The relationship had ended amicably, passion never having played a huge part. She had yet to understand that longing described so often in the media. That lust at first sight, all-consuming pull to another person. She could tell when people were aesthetically pleasing to her, sure, but she didn’t have the time to invest in falling for someone. Without an emotional bond, the attraction never sparked. One-night stands had never been her thing, which is what led to this long, self-inflicted celibacy. Maybe now she was ready to try.
