Hot Stuff

I exhale sharply with a laugh and then nod. “I know. You’re right. And I’ll figure it out soon, I promise. I’ll pick a time to tell him.”

“Soon,” Garrett specifies again, and I roll my eyes.

“Yes, soon. But maybe we could just focus on tonight first,” I say brazenly before dropping my voice to a whisper. “I’ve really missed you.”

Garrett groans, pulls me as close as physically possible, and sinks his lips into mine once again. “Fuck. I’ve missed you too. You have no idea how much.”

“Then show me,” I challenge him. “Take me home and show me.”

And let me tell you…men like Garrett? They don’t back away from a challenge.

Sated and sleepy, I wrap my limbs around Garrett and squeeze. I don’t want either of us to leave this bed in the next lifetime. He feels so perfect intertwined with me—so warm and heavy and right.

Normally, my mind might race with the possibility of him getting a call and having to leave, but tonight, for whatever reason, I feel like I’m finally able to let go and live in the moment.

Garrett seems to do it every time we’re together—frankly, I’m always amazed with his willingness to confront unexpected feelings and hard truths without reservation.

I feel like people—including me—are largely prone to procrastination. Denial of tasks and the shunning of feelings.

Whatever it takes to keep the hard parts of life as far away as possible. But not Garrett. In the entire span of time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him do it at all.

“How do you…” I start to ask, pursing my lips as I reconsider how to word it. He brushes the hair that’s fallen from behind my ear back into place and waits for me patiently. “How do you manage to tackle things head on? To tell me how you feel, even when it’s scary. To ask for the things you want. To make me face hard things. How do you do it without putting it off?”

His expression is filled with warmth as he leans down and kisses my shoulder, and then he moves back again to look me in the eye.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been one to beat around the bush. I’m sure the pace of my career—the pace of my life—has something to do with it, but my mom always says I’ve been this way since I came out of the womb.” He shrugs. “Life moves fast, Lauren. Why should we waste a minute of it?”

I nod, leaning into him and breathing him in. He’s so right. So dang right.

I’ve been waiting for life to find me all this time. Obviously, it feels like it’s worked out, but I don’t have any more time to waste. From here on out, I’m going to leap. I’m going to charge headfirst into the things I want with confidence.

“Jake and Holley are having a get-together next weekend,” Garrett says softly, bringing me back out of my thoughts and pinching my chin between two of his amazingly long, thick fingers. “I know we’re not completely public yet, but there shouldn’t be anybody there who knows your father—”

“Of course,” I cut him off to agree. “I mean, I’m going. I… Holley invited me a couple days ago, and I said I would go.”

To be honest, I completely forgot that I agreed to it while he was away, but I’m excited about going, nonetheless.

“You’ve been talking to Holley?”

“Yes. Is that bad?”

“It’s fucking fantastic!”

“Oh. Geez. That good, huh?” I ask with a laugh.

“Sorry. It’s just… Jake is my best friend, and Holley is the best. Such a cool chick. I couldn’t have picked better for him, and you couldn’t find a better friend to make. Honestly. I know you’ve been skating through since you moved back here, and I’m excited. Excited you’re going to have someone like her at your back.”

When I’m not here.

It’s the part he doesn’t say, but we both know it’s what we’re thinking. Because the fact is, it won’t be long until he’s getting called away again, whether I like it or not. And since tonight, on the way to the comedy club, he told me he decided to take the assistant supervisor promotion, his chances of getting called away have only gone up.

Yeah, but he’s here now.

Damn straight. And so help me God, I’m going to enjoy every second of it.

February 8th

Lauren

The instant Garrett and I arrived at Jake and Holley’s house, Holl handed me a glass of wine and all but dragged me out onto their back deck. Ever since, we’ve been standing out here chattering like a couple of hens.

“You look like a sugar-drunk kid at the end of a carnival,” Holley whispers toward me, and my eyes go wide in confusion.

“What?”

“Exactly how much sex have the two of you been having?”

My mouth drops open, but also, I laugh. “Come on, Holley.”