This long-distance shit sucks.
I thought I missed Harlow before, but it’s nothing compared to how much my chest aches at being on the other side of the country from my girlfriend.
Mygirlfriend.
My giddy ass can’t stop saying it. Aside from a brief thing with Casey in high school and a semester-long relationship with this girl, Dina, from college, I’ve never had a girlfriend. And, if I’m being completely honest, neither of those were that serious. Casey and I were teenagers who have always made better friends than partners, and things with Dina were way more physical than emotional.
This is my first real relationship, and I’m glad it’s with Harlow.
The bell chimes as I push open the door to The Sweet Spot. My gaze snaps to Harlow instantly, as if beckoned to her. She’s distracted, helping this little girl pack on what looks like every single topping in their inventory onto a cupof vanilla ice cream. The girl’s mom looks on, eyes wide and with a hand covering her mouth.
“Anything else, Victoria?” Harlow asks with a wry grin.
The little girl taps her chin, then brightens. “Cheesecake bites.”
“You already got cheesecake bites,” her mom says.
“Never too many.” Harlow plops two pieces on top of the overflowing cup. She holds it up. “All set?”
Victoria nods enthusiastically, then squeals in delight as Harlow hands it to her. The mom holds out a credit card; Harlow waves her away.
“Come on, she chose one of everything. It’s the least I can do.”
Harlow shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but a deal’s a deal.” She gives Victoria a proud smile. “You earned it.”
The little girl giggles, and her mom smiles fondly. “Victoria, what should you say to Ms. Harlow?”
“Thank you!” Victoria beams.
“No problem,” Harlow tells her, and the mom who mouths another “thank you.” Harlow watches them head toward a table, a proud glint in her eyes. I know I have a matching one in mine.
I’ve never visited Harlow at work before, but I remember the way she used to talk about her day. How unsure and nervous she was about her abilities and questioning if she could do it—if she could successfully run this business. But the Harlow standing before me now is a different woman. She’s confident and composed, I can see it in the way she moves behind the counter and the way she talks about her employees on our nightly FaceTimes.
She’s a competent business owner, and I’m so fucking proud of her.
Her gaze scans over me, and she does a double take, herjaw falling open. Before I can say anything, Mom appears from the back room. “Oh, good. You’re here early. Let me finish one thing up, and I’ll be ready to go.”
“Take your time,” I say as I approach the register where Harlow has moved to. Mom disappears in the back room again. I smile at Harlow and whisper, “Hi.”
“Hey, baby,” she says so softly and with so much longing I nearly melt. I set my hands, palms down, on the counter between us. Harlow edges her hand forward to caress the back of mine once before hooking our pinkies together.
“See you tonight?” I ask.
She nods. Thankfully, this isn’t the first time we’re seeing each other in person this trip. I lied to my family and flew in a day earlier, so I spent all yesterday with Harlow and Daisy. Yet, it still hurts not to be able to kiss her hello or goodbye. I want to hug her and feel her warm body pressed against mine, but my mom will be back any second.
Harlow and I agreed to keep things a secret a little longer. She’s not worried about my mom rescinding her offer to help—those two have developed this super tight bond that’s actually very sweet—but it was me who asked for more time.
My family has been insufferable in their attempts to convince me to move back. They’ve always been persistent, but it’s been worse since the arrival of my niece. Little baby Lindsay Lewis is adorable, and she’s the reason I’m in town—well,oneof the reasons. Taylor gave birth three weeks ago to a seven-pound three-ounce bundle of perfection.
“Ready?”
Harlow and I jolt apart at the sound of Mom’s voice. With great effort, I peel my gaze away from my girlfriend and smileat my mom. “Ready.”
“So what’s the story with Ms. One Hundred Toppings?” I ask Harlow later that night when we’re taking Daisy for her last walk of the day. It’s a chilly fall evening, so we’re dressed comfortably in warm clothes as we stroll hand in hand down a quiet sidewalk.
I stole one of Harlow’s hoodies off her bed, and I love how much it smells like her. She won’t be getting this one back.
“Huh? Oh! Victoria?” She smiles. “She and her mom are regulars. Last week, I could tell her mom was super exhausted and losing her patience trying to get Victoria to study for her math test. I know she has a massive sweet tooth, so I told her if she studied really hard and got an A, I’d make her an ice cream with as many toppings as she wants for free.”
