Page 73 of You Spin Me

When we pause for breath, she’s shaking, so I ask, “Are you—is everything okay?”

She shakes her head, then nods it, then bobs it in a circle. “I don’t know… I, uh… sensation overload.”

I can’t help it, I have to draw a finger along her hairline, the perfect frame to her perfect face, but then I get my shit together.

“You’re probably hungry. Let me make us some food.” I head for the kitchen. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Um, I’d take a glass of wine if you have it,” she says, following me.

Luckily, I picked up a bottle before my shift, remembering that she drank red the other night at the bar. I set out some vegetables and dip and a box of chocolates and pour two glasses of wine. I’ve probably gone overboard, but I need all the help I can get.

Cash jumps up on the counter, trying to get in on the action. When she sets him on the stool next to her, he crawls into her lap. “You are such a sweet boy,” she purrs, stroking his fur.

Suppressing a snort—“sweet” is not a word anyone’s ever used to describe my cat—I slide the chocolates closer to her and hand her a glass before lifting my own. “Happy late Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh. Thank you.” She clinks her glass to mine. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” She takes a sip and opens the box of chocolates. “Is it late?”

“Well, it is the fifteenth by now.”

“Oh, right.” She smiles but seems uncertain. “You didn’t have to get me anything. It’s not like we’re…” She gestures between us with her glass before taking another sip.

No way I’m jumping into that minefield.

We move to the couch and eat in silence, sharing the chocolates as well as the healthier stuff. She doesn’t want the coconut or toffee but does like the fruity ones, so I’m thinking we’re a perfect match. I don’t have enough experience with this kind of thing to know if the silence between us is awkward, but as I’m wondering why things are so much easier with her on the phone, she clears her throat. “So, when I was feeding the pets, I couldn’t help noticing that you don’t have a stove. How come?”

“Are you going to use a coupon on that question?”

“Coupon?”

I point to the envelope sitting on the coffee table. “You didn’t open it?”

She shrugs. “I wasn’t sure if I should.”

“Well”—I hold it up—“thisis your official valentine.”

When she leans forward to put her glass on the table, Cash slips off her lap, complaining loudly.

“Sorry, Cash.”

Watching him stalk off, I envy his confidence. My stomach literally feels like birds have hatched inside it. As I watch her unclasp the envelope and slide out the booklet I made, glitter scattering everywhere in the process, it’s official. I am a complete and total loser.

“What the…” she whispers. When she finally looks up, her cheeks are pink and her smile is wobbly.

Goddamnit. I’ve made her cry again. It seems to be a superpower of mine. “Is it… Are you okay?”

She shakes her head, then nods it. “This is the sweetest thing ever, Cal.” Running a finger over the cover of the booklet, a grin blooms on her face. “I’m very impressed by your glitter creations.”

Trying to suppress what has got to be the sappiest smile ever, I shrug. “I worked pretty hard on those.”

Taking her time, she studies my childlike printing. Missing huge chunks of elementary school for surgeries does not make for good penmanship.

“Do I have to use them in order?”

“Nope. Any order you like. And there’s no expiration date, as you can see.” I point to that detail on the back. Pretty clever, if I do say so myself.

“Good to know.” Taking a deep breath, she points to page three. “I’ll use this one.” She covers the page as if I’m going to steal it from her or something. “But I’m not ripping the coupon out or anything. I don’t want to ruin it.”

My smile fades. Distracted by her delight, I’d forgotten why I’d prodded her to open the gift in the first place. “Uh, what exactly was your question?”

---