Just enjoy the moment. Don’t make this into something it’s not.
But the thought kept creeping back to her.Couldthis be more? Could two middle-aged people find themselves in the same house and hit it off and have hot, seismic sex and build a life from there? It was highly improbable. But that didn’t mean it was impossible.
14
Harrison was gone from her bed the next morning and had left Duchess curled up in his place. It was half past eight. Amy never slept so late in real life—she had kids to get to school, a dog to walk, a job to get to. This felt luxurious and so wrong somehow. The wrong came from the internal drumbeat that there was always something that needed to be done, always something she had to make time to squeeze in. But on the other hand, this felt so right. Almost as if she deserved this wallowing in bed after last night.
Amy decided she would call Julie to ask her opinion. Or to gloat. “Guess what?” Amy said when Julie answered. “I am having the best sex of my life.”
Julie squealed. “Damn it, you just made me paint my eyeliner across half my face.” She put Amy on speaker, and Amy could hear the sound of water running in the background. “Well don’t just sit there,” Julie said. “Tell me everything.”
“We’ve hit it off. And the rest came naturally.”
“No pun intended,” Julie snorted.
“No pun intended.” Amy filled her in on how the few days hadprogressed, from a kiss that was mistletoe adjacent to “knocking boots” for what seemed like hours last night.
“Please never call it ‘knocking boots’ again,” Julie said.
“Okay. But no kidding, Julie…I feel like I’m on a rocket ship.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, Harrison is hot and this thing is shooting for the stars in more ways than one, you know? He’s so good-looking and fit, you would die.”
“I know, I’ve seen pictures. I also googled him.”
“What?”
“Well, I had to. I couldn’t just leave you up there with some weirdo. But turns out, he’s not a weirdo. He seems like a really decent guy. He’s an ambassador for St. Jude Children’s Hospital.”
“He is?” Something squiggly and warm shot through Amy.
“I’m so happy you are finally getting some!” Julie exclaimed from the well of her bathroom. “Iknewyou needed it. Everyone needs to get laid now and then. It improves everything, even the simple things. Like, you already sound less bitchy.”
“I’m going to ignore that,” Amy said cheerfully. “But it’s more than just getting some,” she insisted. “Harrison and I…we just click, you know? It’s like we have the same ideas and we think the same, and henevertalks about politics and, you know, Ryan talked about politics all the time, and Harrison is kind and really—”
Her phone suddenly lit up with Julie’s half-made-up face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she said. “Slow down, Amy.”
Amy blinked. “Slow what down?”
“You sound like you are seventeen and boy crazy. This is just a fling, remember? A chance for you to scratch an itch. So don’t get all gooey about it.” She leaned forward, presumably into a mirror, and began to apply mascara. Amy was looking at half her face.
“I’m notgooey.” She felt slightly insulted that Julie thought so. “I’m just saying that this is truly remarkable. I mean think about it—he wasn’t even supposed to be here. I thought I was going to have to call the cops! And then to find out we are so compatible, and the sex is off the chain, and he’s handsome and funny—”
“Amy.” Julie put down the mascara wand and faced her phone. “You haven’t been in love in forever. And you just went through a divorce.”
“Two years ago.”
“Still. You sound like you are falling in love, and I’m warning you, if that is true, it’s not going to turn out like you think.”
Julie was always so supportive, so this unexpected admonition stung. “Gee, thanks for the support.”
“Iamsupporting you. I am being a good friend to you right now,” Julie said firmly. “The rules are different than they were the last time you fell in love.”
“I am not in love,” Amy snapped. But then, what was happening to her? “And I wasn’t aware there were any rules.”
“Not rules exactly.” Julie glanced heavenward and puffed out her cheeks before releasing her breath like a balloon. “Okay, listen. You’re in your fifties. And you have baggage—”
