Page 44 of Notes About Vodka

There was this moment—this look she gave me—which said she wanted more, but the excitement of the day, the emotional rollercoaster of the phone call, and the late hour completely killed my libido.

I was tired.

So tired I could barely keep my eyes open. I kissed her anyways, soft and slow, feeling her breath warm against my lips, but then I pulled back and told her I was too worn out for anything else.

She laughed, half disappointed, I think, half understanding, and we settled into each other, her body warm against mine. I could feel her heartbeat, steady and calming; it made me feel like I washome.

Holding her felt good, like this weird sense of peace I hadn’t known I needed. But the tossing and turning started almost immediately.

I’m a restless sleeper, and the last thing I wanted was to keep her up all night. But, apparently I did. I kept waking up, adjusting my position, trying not to disturb her, but I knew I was failing. So, when I started shifting too much and muttering in my sleep, she got up, grabbed a pillow, and disappeared into my guest room.

I followed her—not to invade her space, but to make sure she was comfortable. I ended up tucking her in. I don’t know why, but it felt right. Like, if I couldn’t sleep next to her, the least I could do was make sure she was tucked in tight.

She looked up at me, sleepy but smiling, and I could tell she wasn’t mad or anything. Just tired, like me. She whispered, "Goodnight, Valerie," and there was something so tender in her voice that it made my chest tighten. It was like she was giving me permission to care for her, even in the smallest of ways.

When I woke up in my cold bed this morning, I wish I would have stayed, wrapped around her warm body. I imagine what it would be like to wake up with her soft hair in my face, her back pressed into my chest as my hands play her body like she plays the piano.

Now, its early afternoon and here we are, walking to work together.

Strolling side by side through the city streets like it’s something we do all the time. I still feel like I’m floating. We stayed up way too late talking about everything and nothing at all.

The way she listens, the way she laughs—it makes all the noise in my head go quiet for once. The city is bustling around us, but it feels like we’re in our own little bubble, and I don’t want it to pop.

"You good?" Laura nudges me with her elbow, a smirk on her lips as we wait for the crosswalk light to change. Her eyes are the brightest blue, very little gray, in the early morning light, and I can’t help but grin. Especially since I she's wearing one of my black shirts until we get toPianissimowhere she leaves a few dresses like many of the other wait staff in her personal locker.

"Yeah, just thinking," I reply, grinning back at her. "Last night... It was good."

"Yeah? Good enough to finally pass out for a few hours just as the sun comes up," she teases, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Hey, I was wiped out, okay? You try having a conversation with my parents and see how much energy you have afterward."I shove my hands into my pockets, still kind of amazed that I actually called them. There’s this strange lightness in my chest, a feeling of relief I haven’t known in a long time.

"Your mom seemed nice," she says, bumping her shoulder against mine as we start walking again. Her voice is softer, like she’s genuinely curious, and I like that she cares.

"She is," I admit, feeling a warmth spread through me. "She asked about you, you know."

Laura raises an eyebrow, looking at me sideways. “Oh, yeah? What’d you tell her?"

I shrug, trying to play it cool, though my heart is pounding a little faster. "Just that you were a friend."

She rolls her eyes but smiles. "Right. Afriend."

I chuckle, shaking my head. "Hey, I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. Say too much, and she will be planning our wedding and well, you are still…you know. So, baby steps, okay?"

“Hey, Val. I get it. Thank you for letting me meet them. Maybe one day I’ll get to say ‘Hi’ in person.” Her voice is gentle, hopeful, and I can see the sincerity in her eyes. It makes me think that maybe, just maybe, she’s the girl I take home to meet my family.

We reachPianissimo, and as I hold the door open for her, I can't shake the feeling that something’s shifted between us. We’re closer, even though we didn’t take that next step last night. And that feels...good.

Different, but good.

There’s no rush with Laura, no pressure. She gets me, and that’s rare. So rare. It’s like we’re building something solid, something that can stand the test of whatever life throws at us.

Even when I get in my own way sometimes…

As we step inside, the familiar hum of the bar welcomes us.

Separately we get ready. As the night gets busy and shegoes on stage, I get a glance at Laura, who’s already wearing her game face for work.

I catch a flicker of something in her eyes, they are a softer blue tonight now that we are inside with the dark gray dress she has on. Its gauzy, soft. But that flicker of her eyes, the one that catches the gold flecks you can only see when you pay close enough attention, maybe it’s hope or maybe its excitement, but there’s something more in her eyes.

---