“Did you mean it?” he asked, still not looking at her. “When you said I was with you. Did you mean that?”
Lauren’s first instinct was to play it off. It was too soon, after all—they’d been hanging out more, they’d been physical a few times, she was sure that the last thing he’d want to do would be to give it some kind of label or definition.
But that was a disservice to the way she felt about him. And, she was beginning to realize, it was a disservice to him. She’d had this impression of Asa for so long as this easygoing, flippant guy, but the more she got to know him, the more she saw how serious he could be, how sincere. How sweet.
“I meant it,” she said. “And I’m with you.”
It would’ve been perfect if she could’ve left it at that, but of course the minute the words were out of her mouth, she started second-guessing herself. Maybe she’d misunderstood the question and was making all kinds of assumptions and bold declarations she shouldn’t.
They’d reached her car, and she was grateful for the excuse to dig through her purse for her keys, fumbling with them before locating the right one. It gave her something to do, something to focus on other than Asa’s reaction.
“If that’s what you want.” Why did she have to be the only person on the planet who still had to open her car door with an actual key, instead of a push-button key fob? Manual dexterity was apparently one of the first things to go in moments of stress. “We don’t have to—”
She never got the rest of that sentence out. Asa came toward her so fast she had no time, could only let out a surprised squeak as he pressed her against the car door, his hands in her hair and his mouth hard and hungry on hers. Dimly, she was aware of the sound of her car keys hitting the pavement as her arms went around his neck.
“It’s what I want,” he said against her mouth. “No doubt.”
She couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face, even though it made it harder for Asa to keep kissing her. “So where do we go from here?”
His body was crowding hers in the most delicious way, the scratch of his stubble abrading her neck as he dipped his head to kiss behind her ear. “As in, my place or yours? Yours is closer, but I’d like to get a change of clothes at least from mine.” His hands found the bare skin of her shoulders under her cardigan. “Unless you meant the question in more of an existential sense. In which case, we can go anywhere we want to, baby.”
Lauren slid her hands up his chest, dragging her fingertips slowly over his nipples through his shirt, lingering long enough to hear his intake of breath. Then she plucked the clothespin that was still clipped to the collar of his shirt and fastened it below the others on her cardigan.
“Caught you,” she said.
He grinned. “I knew you would.”
* * *
? ? ?
In the week leading up to Christmas, Lauren found a rhythm to being with Asa. She’d worried it would be difficult or awkward, simply because it had been so long since she’d been in a relationship with anyone. She wasn’t used to the idea of checking in with someone about their plans, or having someone check in with her. She found herself waiting all day for the time when they were both off work, and they kept making plans to see a movie or have dinner but then never made it out of her apartment.
Even working with him on the Cold World proposal had been great so far. She’d looked up more facts and interactive activities, and she’d write up sample displays or directions while he sat next to her on her small couch, his sketchbook propped on his knees, drawing mock-ups for the final exhibit.
They only had one area of disagreement. Although of course Kiki knew that Lauren and Asa were dating—it would be difficult to hide, given that Asa had slept over at Lauren’s apartment more times than he’d been home in the last few days—Lauren thought they should wait to make their relationship public at work. It wasn’t against any policy per se, but she didn’t feel like answering any questions about it or worrying about the slightest appearance of unprofessionalism.
Asa saw no reason for the secrecy—“People are going to catch on eventually,” he pointed out—but grudgingly agreed to keep everything under wraps at least until after the proposals were presented. And if she thought he knew how to make her life impossible at work before, that was nothing compared to the games he could play in this new dynamic.
Like the last day of work before she’d be off for the holidays, he came into the break room while she was fixing her usual cup of coffee, doing a double take like he hadn’t expected to see her there. Which, of course, was a laugh since she made her first cup of coffee at practically the same time every day, whereas he wasn’t even supposed to be on shift for another hour. Sonia had arrived early, too, and was eating her fast-food breakfast while reading one of the romance novels Lauren—Asa, really—had gotten her for Secret Santa.
“Good morning,” he said cheerfully to both of them, resting his hand lightly at the small of Lauren’s back while he reached around her for one of the K-cups. It was an innocent enough touch, lingering only a half second longer than would’ve been appropriate between two colleagues. But the problem was the immediate ache it put in Lauren’s lower stomach, the way it made her want him to linger.
From the side smirk he gave her at the coffee machine, he knew exactly what effect he’d had on her. “You look like you’re having a particularly good morning,” he said. “You’re practically glowing.”
She wanted to hit him. It had been less than an hour ago that she’d had his fingers inside her, his mouth around her taut, slick nipple as he urged her to come in the shower.
“You really are,” Sonia said from the table. “It’s a very I’ll have what she’s having type of look, unless you’re coming down with something, in which case no thank you.”
“I guess I’m just excited about Christmas,” Lauren said, and immediately couldn’t believe that was what she’d gone with. She’d have been better off just copping to a flu like Sonia had suggested.
“Are you doing anything fun?” Sonia asked. “Spending it with family?”
“Oh, um.” Lauren’s gaze slid to Asa’s, but he was just leaning back against the counter, watching her like he was as interested in her answer as Sonia. They hadn’t expressly discussed the upcoming holiday, whether they would spend it together. But the night before, she’d been sitting up in bed, trying to read her library book, with Asa lying with his head on her lap while he teased her about how she called reading a hobby but was treating it more like homework and tried to get her to skip ahead to the “salacious bits” and read them aloud.
“This was short-listed for the Booker prize,” she had said primly.
He’d snorted. “I bet it would’ve won if it had more salacious bits.” She’d felt the bed vibrate, and he reached into his pocket for his phone, pulling it out and frowning at the screen until she set the book down on her chest.
“What is it?”
“My mom,” he’d said.
For a minute he hadn’t said anything else, and even though Lauren had been dying to know more—What does she want? What did she say?— she’d threaded her fingers in his hair, waiting patiently for him to tell her.
“There’s this fancy tea place, and she wants to know if I want to meet her for Christmas Eve tea?” He’d said it like a question. “She put in a lot of details about the scones and mulled wine. There’s even a screenshot of the menu.”
“Do you want to go?”
“It looks fucking delicious,” he’d said.
“Of course it does. It’s scones. But do you want to see your mom?”