Once he’d opened my door and helped me down, I followed as he led me straight into the warm, fragrant interior of the Laundromat I’d once enjoyed spending time at. “We’re in the Laundromat.”
He let go of my hand and stuck his in his pockets again and tilted his head. His hair was fully dry now. A lock of it fell over his forehead and, despite wanting to push it back, I didn’t. I glanced around. I hadn’t been here in over five years—we had a washer and dryer in the basement of our apartment building—but everything looked the same. A sense of nostalgia gripped me, bringing with it a strange sense of loneliness.
“Do you ever think about that night, Lia? The night we danced?”
I looked back to where Preston was standing, tilting my head. That night . . . I knew exactly which night he was referring to. I’d thought about that night so many times over the years, relived the way it had felt to be held by him. “I . . . yes. Or . . . I used to. I used to think about it all the time.”
He nodded slowly and took his full bottom lip into his mouth, his upper teeth scraping along it before he let it go. A tremor of heat moved through me at the unknowingly seductive gesture. He took a few steps back to the door and turned the sign over so it said, “Closed,” to those on the other side and then flipped the lock.
I laughed shortly. “I don’t think you’re allowed to do that.”
“I am because I rented this place for a couple of hours.” He took my hand and led me to the middle of the space, the exact spot where I’d once stood folding clothes, and turned to find him standing in the doorway of the Laundromat. Oh, how I’d loved him that night. How I’d wanted him and been so confused and unsure.
“You rented the Laundromat?”
“I didn’t want anyone to disturb us.” He gave me a crooked smile. “You might not know this, but there are a surprising number of hoops you have to jump through to acquire this space for a date.”
I laughed. “I didn’t know that. I haven’t exactly been on a whole lot of dates.”
His face paled, and he closed his eyes for a second. “Oh, Lia, I’m so damn sorry about that.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
He studied me for a second, his eyes moving over my features as he pulled his teeth over his full bottom lip again.
He leaned in and kissed me quickly and then turned and went over to the laundry soap dispenser and reached for something on top. Was that a remote control? Returning to me, he clicked a button and music suddenly filled the room.
I let out a startled laugh and Preston’s lips turned up. He moved toward me and I grasped the counter behind my back, tipping my head up to look at him. His smile melted and his eyes moved to my mouth and then back to my eyes. I swallowed. “That night, I wanted so badly to kiss you. I was vibrating with it.”
“You were?” My voice came out so softly I wondered if he had even heard me. But he nodded and moved in even closer.
“Yeah. I wanted to kiss you, and I wanted to do more than that.”
“What more?” I wanted him to keep talking. I was desperate to hear not only all the thoughts that were in his head now, but the thoughts that had been in his head all those years I’d pined for him. Especially that night. The night he was supposed to be at his senior prom and instead had been with me. I’d been so hungry for him for so very, very long.
His smile was sudden and slightly bashful and made my heart flip yet again. “I think I exhibited what more on my kitchen table.”
I let out a small chuckle on a breath. “Oh, that more . . .”
His face became serious again. “Yeah, but that more can wait. I want to take things slowly and do all the things we should have done before.”
“What sort of things?” I felt slightly breathless. I wasn’t mystified. I just wanted to hear him say the words.
He leaned in closer and my breath caught as his lips brushed the corner of mine. “Slow things . . .” He kissed my neck lightly, and I couldn’t hide the shiver that moved through my body. “Gentle things.”
“O-okay. And we’re starting here?”
“Yes. We’re starting here. I should have done things differently the first time and if we’re starting over, this is where I’d like to begin. I’d like to show you what I should have done—what I wish I’d done the first time we were in this Laundromat.”
Preston glanced up to where the music was playing and smiled. I became aware of what song was beginning and smiled back. “It’s your favorite song.”
He chuckled softly and the sound, so rare and so long since I’d heard it, was so sweet I nearly cried. “Sure is. Will you dance with me?”
I stepped into his arms and felt the wild pounding of my heart as his heat enveloped me. I felt suddenly shy and out of sorts. Was it strange that I’d known Preston almost all of my life, was intimately acquainted with his body, had given birth to his child, and yet in his gentle embrace, I still trembled with the newness of love?
In some ways we’d lived out an entire relationship—the beginning, the middle, and the end—and in some ways we’d never had a relationship at all. I understood completely now why he’d suggested beginning anew. We needed that. I needed that. And yet at the same time, we also had to contend with reality because emotions were going to come up based on things we’d already experienced.
And this time, we couldn’t pretend they didn’t exist or risk lapsing into the silence that had almost been the death of us. Almost. But not quite. There was still life in us, a small spark that had never gone out despite the cold that had engulfed us. The hope of that spark filled my chest so full so suddenly that I sucked in a breath and looked up at Preston.
He smiled softly and turned me quickly, causing me to laugh just the way he had the first time he’d done that. “Promise me you won’t stop dancing with me, Preston. No matter what. If we just have this, I think . . . I think we can make it through anything. Just being held by you . . .”
“I should have. I’m sorry. Know what else I should have done?”
“No, what?”
“I should have pulled you out of that guest room and asked you to share my bed with me. Even if I was asleep by eight and up at four that whole damn year. We could have shared each other’s warmth for those hours, and it would have helped us both.”
“I would have said yes in a heartbeat.”