He grinds into my thigh. I buck my hips a little. His hand finds its way between my legs and my eyes flicker closed. I want so much more than this, but like I’ve learned repeatedly over the last few years, the universe doesn’t always give you what you want so you have to make the best out of what you get. My hand slips down to find his shaft again. He shifts, lying beside me on the extra deep L-shaped couch. “I’ll give you everything I can.”
Again, I feel somewhere deep inside, that’s more than just a reference to our current situation. I may be insane thanks to my raging hormones, but everything with Logan feels deeper than it should. And then his fingers curl inside me and his thumb circles my clit, and I forget everything but the sensation of this moment. My hand keeps rolling up and down his length as I spiral into bliss from the work of his hand.
“Kiss me,” I beg and he does and like desperate teenagers we’re making-out and dry humping and pawing relentlessly at each other. I’d be embarrassed about how quickly I come except that he crosses the finish line seconds after I do. I feel it warm and wet all over my thigh.
His body and mine relax. Our heavy breathing, and Chewie’s snoring, filling the quiet of the apartment. After a minute, he reaches over my head to the end table where there’s a box of Kleenex and he grabs a couple and gently cleans me up. Then he kisses me tenderly and reaches up to the back of the couch and pulls down the throw there, covering us. I close my eyes and enjoy the feel of him and cling to the euphoria of the moment so I don’t have to think about the reality of it.
I don’t know how long we’re lying there, drifting on the edge of sleep, but Stevie lets out a soft growl, which means she needs to pee. I gently slip out from under Logan’s arm with the grace and ease of a drunk koala bear, but I manage to not hit the floor.. I quickly gather my pajamas and outerwear and scoop up Stevie. Then I have to scoop up Boss, who is sleeping pressed up against Chewie’s side on the carpet by the door. I quietly slip out into the night.
As the cold air shocks me back to reality, I start to panic. Maybe it makes me lame, but this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done. Until now, it was agreeing to leave Hawaii and move to Maine with Jackson, and look how that turned out. I’m a risk-adverse, calculated, thoughtful person because when I’m not, it doesn’t end well. Sleeping with my recovering alcoholic, single dad tenant hours after a first kiss…it’s a recipe for disaster, isn’t it?
What on earth will we say to each other in the morning? What do we do next? What do I do now? Do I sneak back in there? I am so overwhelmed with not knowing what to do that, when Stevie has done her business, I take both dogs and head back into my own house. And then I lie awake half the night, my head jumping around to all the ways this could have been a terrible mistake while my heart still does back flips every single time I think about Logan.
I’m a mess.
14
Chloe
The Hawkins Lobster Shackparking lot is brimming over with cars. I almost didn’t find a spot. I pull open the door and the bell above jingles, but I don’t think anyone can hear it over the chatter and clang of dishes and the buzz of conversations. The counter and the bar have almost every stool taken, and there’s only one booth by the plate glass window that’s empty because it has a Reserved sign on it. The first thing I notice is the vast diversity of the clientele. Young families, seniors, college kids—every demographic is represented.
“Chloe, right?’ Nova calls out from behind the bar. I smile and wave. “Terra said she was meeting with you about a school thing. Is that how you met Logan? Through Terra?”
I have no idea how I should respond to that, so I skim the truth. “Yeah, I met Logan because of Terra.”
It’s true because if I hadn’t come here for the interview for the secret project, I wouldn’t have met him. Nova smiles and motions to the booth with the sign. “She reserved the booth over there for you. Have a seat, and I’ll get her.”
I nod and make my way to the booth. I shrug out of my big coat and remove my scarf, hat, and gloves. I do miss the simplicity of winter in Hawaii. I didn’t have to spend ten minutes layering before going outside. I plop down in the booth just as a server walks over. “Hi there. Nova told me to grab your order. Anything, and it’s on the house. Do you need a menu?”
“I’ll just take something warm…like a hot chocolate maybe?”
She smiles brightly. “Mrs. H makes the best hot chocolate, I swear. I even get it in the summer. Delish! Any food with that?”
“No, but thanks,” I say, and she heads off to get my drink as I scan the busy restaurant again. Everyone is smiling.Everyone. I really think I have to get Terra to invest in a professional photographer to take some shots of this place when it’s busy like this. We could use them on the site. Locals might get a kick out of being featured.
I notice one of those claw games in the corner by the front that I didn’t notice before. There’s a pre-teen playing it now, his tongue sticking out just a little as his eyes narrow with concentration and he maneuvers the claw. His little brother looks on eagerly. Terra comes out of the back and catches my attention by waving to me. I wave back. She glances over at the machine too and walks over. Leaning down, she whispers something to the kid, and he keeps moving the claw. “Now!” Terra exclaims, and he hits the button and it drops and scoops up a tiny crab-shaped crochet stuffy
The kids and Terra stand perfectly still in anticipation as the claw precariously lurches its way to the deposit bin. The crab starts to slip. The littles boy gasps. But all is not lost. It hangs on long enough to make it over the bin and when it drops into it, the kids and Terra cheer.
She’s smiling as she makes her way to me and plops down across from me. “That hunk of junk was my tenth birthday gift. I was obsessed with this game at the arcade in town, so my dad found one online and put it in our basement. Gave me a wooden plug to play with instead of coins so I didn’t bankrupt him and filled it with cheap stuffies,” she says with a grin. “I spent so much time in the basement that first summer that Ma started to worry. She had to put me on play limit like you do now with a kid and an iPad.”
I laugh at that. “My dad had an old pinball machine in our basement, and I was the same way.”
“When I was fifteen, and diagnosed with lupus, I suggested we bring it into the restaurant and all the cash we made we could donate to the Lupus Foundation,” Terra explains. “My parents were more than happy to do it. A lot of the local ladies Ma plays bridge with also crochet, so they make the toys pro-bono to fill it.”
“Oh my God I love this story,” I gush as the server makes her way back with my hot chocolate. “We have to put this on the website.”
She puts the drink down on the table. It’s almost overflowing with chocolate whipped cream and tiny rainbow marshmallows.
“They call this the River Special,” she explains. “After their grandkid.”
Logan’s son, I realize and smile. The server leaves, and I pick up a spoon and notice Terra is staring at me in a weird way. “What?”
I raise a spoonful of whipped cream and marshmallows to my mouth.
“We make that whipped cream in-house, with dark chocolate shavings. It’s not some canned crap. It’s my brother Logan’s favorite thing, especially as the filling in a whoopie pie. Just a heads up in case you’re looking for a dessert idea for your next date.”
The spoon stops mid-air as my eyes meet hers. I know I look guilty, and I start to blush, which makes her cackle with laughter. “I’m sorry, I can’t pretend I don’t know. He told me last night.”
