“He is a bit of an orgasm dealer,” I admit, as a shiver rolls down my spine in memory.
After everyone leaves, Emerson stays behind to help me straighten up. As I wash wine glasses and she dries them, she arches a brow. “So, I have to ask . . .”
I laugh lightly. This is so her. She’s uber enthusiastic but also intensely grounded. I suspect her grounded side is rearing up right now. “Of course you have to ask something. Spill.”
She sets down the towel, stares at me with intense green eyes. “Are you ready? Truly ready? And I don’t just mean for orgasms.”
“I’m definitely ready for those,” I say, as I turn off the water.
She sighs. “Hello, yoga empress who doesn’t take herself seriously. Make an exception for this. You know what I mean. I get that you’re feeling good and healed, and that’s truly awesome. And I know, too, that you feel like it all worked out for the best. That the universe saved you from a bad marriage. And yes, it did. But I also know you berated yourself for being so caught up in a whirlwind romance that you didn’t pay attention to the signs that he wasn’t right for you.”
“Want to read my soul a little more?” I tease. Because she’s nailed every detail like the bestie she is.
She just gives a soft smile, then squeezes my forearm. “I regret it too—that I missed the signs. I mean, I even said on your wedding day that he treated you well,” she says, her voice catching.
A lump forms in my throat. “It’s not your fault.”
“And it’s not yours either,” she says, choked with emotion. But she draws a breath like it steadies her. “I just want to make sure you’re . . . you know . . . ready? Because every time you talk about Harlan, he seems like not only a god in bed, but also a good guy out of bed. And that’s pretty easy to get caught up in too.”
“But I won’t,” I insist. “That’s what I’ve learned—to take everything day by day. Not zoom too many steps ahead.”
“Good. That’s all I wanted to know. That you’re looking out for you,” she says, pointing at my heart. “Because I definitely am. And I promise to do a better job of it this time around.”
“And I love you for that.”
She flashes a big, naughty smile. “Then I can’t wait to hear how your first official date with the O dealer goes.”
Really, it’s more like a third date. Every time I’ve been with Harlan, we’ve gotten to know each other. We’ve had fun. We’ve spent real time together in and out of bed.
Maybe we will again.
That’s all I want. That’s all I have room for.
Time to enjoy the present. To take a chance at that third date.
Once Emerson has gone, I pick up my phone, feeling good about my plans to reach out. This isn’t fate. This is timing. And maybe, finally, the time is right for us.
So, I send him a text.
11
Katie
As far as opening lines go, this one should be pretty clear.
Katie: I still have your apron, shorts, and sweatshirt.
And he doesn’t make me wait too long. As I wash my face before bed, the phone buzzes on the bathroom vanity.
Harlan: Seven years ago, you left behind a lip gloss tube. Now, you’ve taken my clothes. You’re a variation on Cinderella.
That’s good, right? Hinting at fairy tales? Except, I don’t know. I press on.
Katie: I’d love to return them to you.
I hit send as nerves rush through me. I’m asking a man out for the first time since I was dumped spectacularly. How could I not be freaking out? My skin prickles with worry. What if I read him wrong? What if I got the wrong intel? He might be secretly dating someone else and Jillian simply doesn’t know.
But I have to put myself out there if I want a chance.
So, I wait another few minutes.
Then a few more.
Ugh.
He’s not writing back.
My stomach craters to the floor. What was I thinking? He’s too good to be true. It was silly to think he was waiting for me to drop back into his life. Like he’d be ready at a moment’s notice when he could be snuggling with Miss Right this very second.
Le sigh.
I wait for the sorry, you’re too late shoe to drop.
I’ll just . . . find something else to do to pass the time till he officially turns me down.
Maybe I should put on a face mask. Drop into a lotus pose. Enroll in my Yoga for the dating challenged class, since it’s become somewhat of a regular routine for me.
Harlan: Hey! Abby woke up and wanted a glass of water . . . so natch, I had to fetch it.
* * *