“Not sure if I should eat one. I might need it later.” She laughs, her smile back in full force. So despite an awful dinner and the distance we manage to pull off our date. Laurel puts the cupcakes away and heads into her bedroom a little tipsy from the wine and the quick shot of gin she snuck when she thought I couldn’t see her.
She’ll have a headache tomorrow, but she looks adorable.
“Lay down with me?” I ask and she sleepily nods propping me up on her night stand.
“What’s something you’re afraid of?” Laurel says as I take in her relaxed face and the way she curls her hands under her cheek.
Immediately I answer, “I’m afraid of the dark.”
“No you’re not.” She giggles.
“True, but my brother is. He still keeps a bat by his bed even in his house.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but he’ll kick my ass for telling you.” I wink. “What are you afraid of?”
“Probably everything. My shadow. Failing. Succeeding. Dying a virgin if this thing never ends.”
There’s a lot to unpack in her statement, and I don’t know where to start first besides de-escalating it. I forget I have a few years on her in more ways than just age. She isn’t being coy, this is just her natural disposition.
“I said too much didn’t I? I’m absolute shit at this dating thing.” Laurel’s words slur together as she yawns covering her pink lips.
Her words hit me hard and softly I say, “Baby, I feel like you cocked the chamber of a loaded gun there.”
“It’s true.” She mumbles into her pillow. I’d never let her die a virgin, heck if it made her feel better I’d drive over and pop her cherry now despite how awkward it would be making love to her in her mother’s house.
I want her here with me, and the selfish thoughts come tumbling out before I can hold them back.
“Laurel?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you come stay with me?”
She yawns out loud and murmurs before falling asleep, “But then who would take care of my mother, sister, and niece?”
He eyes flutter shut and I yearn to tuck her in and kiss her forehead. I’m glad she isn’t alone, but I’m beginning to resent her family’s inability to care for themselves excluding the seven-year-old who doesn’t have a choice in this situation. Why did my girl have to be the responsible one?
If I could, I’d wrap her up in silk and kidnap her back to my condo like a pirate. Impossible. Illegal. Immoral and definitely a slew of other things totally wrong, but I’m reaching my limit of patience and fucks to care. More than that, I want her safe and I doubted her family’s ability to keep her that way.
“Laurel? Sweetheart?” I watch the screen for a moment hoping she’ll wake back up. After a few minutes I know she’s out cold. The lines on her face smooth out and I hope her dreams are filled with happy things, fat squirrels, sugary cupcakes, and me. Lots of naked me if I could jump inside her head. I push the top of my laptop down shutting it. There were plenty of other things we could do, experiences we could have, I just needed to be patient.
13
Van
When Laurel suggests a campfire for our next date, I am concerned for the fire codes in her building. What I like about her so much is her unpredictability. For all the playing safe she’s done in her life, she surprises me in these little, yet momentous ways. However, city resources are strapped to the max and the idea of the fire department having to respond to a fire started by roasting marshmallows over a stove seems like a terrible idea. It’s her pouting lips over the webcam that suck me in and agree. I don’t think I’ve consumed marshmallows since boy scout camp, but I’m willing to try.
I set up my lapt
op in the kitchen, my stove range behind me and a factory line of graham crackers, chocolate and marshmallows are queued up ready to go. How many of these things will I have to eat, I’m not sure.
My screen pings and I open the camera to see her face. Glasses, wild bun and a t-shirt that reads: these meetings could have all been emails. I agree except for any meeting where Laurel is present from now on. Is it awkward that we technically work together? I haven’t decided yet, but we’re not in the office so I don’t think it matters.
“Hi.” She waves at the screen and I wave back. I’ve done nothing but think about her, and a man alone with his thoughts is a dangerous thing I’ve found. I keep thinking of all the things I’d like to do with her, and to her, but can’t. It’s created this never-ending erection that’s been increasingly hard to handle – no pun intended in the shower.
“Hi Laurel.” My plan is to keep things as PC as possible. I haven’t broached the idea of remote fooling around, but I want to. I really want to.