Page 73 of Notes About Vodka

I settle back down, resting my head on his chest as his arms wrap around me. He exhales softly, his fingers tracing slow, reassuring circles on my back. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my cheek is grounding, a quiet reminder that I’m not alone in this. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat is a stark contrast to the restlessness that consumed me earlier. Forso long, I’ve been fighting my thoughts alone, but here, in Val’s embrace, the chaos seems to melt away. It’s not just comfort he provides—it’s a sense of security I hadn’t realized I was missing. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat calms me, and for the first time in weeks, I feel a flicker of hope. As my eyes grow heavy, I think to myself,Maybe he’s right. Maybe I can do this.

Val suddenly shifts slightly, reaching for something on the side table. My mind races for a second—was he reaching for his phone, maybe to check a message?Or worse, was this the moment he decided I had shared too much?My chest tightens slightly as I brace myself, but then he turns back, holding one of my favorite flair pen markers in a dark, pretty violet.

I raise an eyebrow, watching him with curiosity as he uncaps it like he’s about to write something profound.

"What are you up to?" I ask, amused, but he just smirks and reaches for my hand. Before I can ask, he grabs my hand and pulls it gently toward him. In my palm, he starts to write, the felt tip of the marker tickling my skin.

When he’s done, I tilt my hand to read it:What are your favorite flowers?

I laugh softly. "You’re silly," I say, shaking my head. "Why did you write this on my palm instead of just asking?"

He grins, holding up the sharpie. "I like our secret messages, our notes."

I roll my eyes, hesitating for a second before finally taking the marker from him. "You’re really committed to this, huh?" I say, tapping the cap against my palm.

He just smirks, tilting his arm toward me in silent challenge. Shaking my head, I pop the cap off and lean in to write. On his forearm, I write back:Well, if you haven’t noticed, I absolutely adore tulips, but there’s not a flower I haven’t met that didn’t steal my heart.

He reads it, his smile widening. "Tulips, huh? Noted."

Before I can react, he takes the marker again and scribbles something on my collarbone. I gasp, laughing as the cool ink glides over my skin. "Hey! That better not be something embarrassing."

"Read it and find out," he teases, sitting back.

I hold up my phone and use the front camera to read.Why do you always smell like vanilla and trouble?

I roll my eyes but can’t stop the grin spreading across my face. "Because I roll around in honeybee pollen and dream of glowing up the world around me."

"That, or you’re secretly a cupcake in disguise," he teases, offering me his arm again.

I quickly write out my question near his elbow. “Why me?”

Val’s eyes darken a little as he looks into my eyes and answers, “Because you are the world, Laura.”

I choke up, and almost start crying. But Val grabs the marker back, scrawling on top of my hand this time.

“So, that note about vodka? Really, a salad?”

I lose it, laughing at the reminder of his first note to me.

We keep going, scribbling words and questions all over each other’s skin, trading laughter and teasing remarks. Before I realize it, I’ve practically undressed myself and him in order to find new spaces to write notes. Our clothes are discarded as we explore each other with ink and curiosity.

Somewhere along the way, my lips started painting over his skin, too. A kiss to his bicep after I draw a butterfly. Another down his spine as I write out how scared I was during my own surgeries. His lips tickle my toes as he writes, “I promise I don’t have a foot fetish, but I love these little piggy toes.”

Another kiss on my chest after Val draws a string of hearts down the scar there.

My heart pounds as Val pauses, his marker hovering over my hip as he writes out a question, “Have you ever had anyonekiss you here?” And there’s an arrow pointing to the place between my thighs.

I shake my head; Val’s eyebrows raise and I whisper, “Not even Sam.”

"Can I?" His voice is soft, careful, giving me the space to decide. "Kiss you…here?" Val indicates exactly where he wants to kiss, barely tracing the tip of his marker over my pink cotton panties, outlining my swelling nub.

I nod, my pulse quickening. I make a decision before I can change my mind. "Yes. I want that."

His lips replace the ink, his touch slow and reverent, as his tongue massages my clit through my underwear and somewhere deep inside, I clench, grabbing onto the air between us. When he finally tugs my panties to the side and kisses me between my legs, I arch into him, stars bursting behind my eyelids. I feel a finger slip through my folds and I can't help but to moan his name.

I was definitely dreaming last time. This is… so much better…

It’s overwhelming in the best way, and for the first time in my life, I don’t feel afraid of this kind of closeness—I just feel wanted. Safe.

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