Page 87 of Sort of Seeing Someone

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

“I’m turning into a raisin,” he comments, showing me his shriveled, water-logged fingers.

“Me too. Should we go home?”

“Maybe not home. But we should go.”

“Well, where to next?” I ask.

“Presidential isn’t booked tonight—and I’ve got the keys to the kingdom. How about I block it off in the system for some ‘unplanned maintenance’?”

He bites the bottom of his lip. I resist the urge to copy and do the same back.

“I think I saw some things that needed a little…work…when I stayed there.”

“Point them out to me?”

“Gladly,” I say.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Ollie hops out of the hot tub and water rushes off his body like Niagara Falls. He extends his hand to help me up and out as well.

FUCK.

A vision hits my brainen forceduring the five seconds it takes for him to help get me on my feet. All I could see was him and I sitting outside somewhere—nowhere I recognize—and him pouring me a coffee from a French press.

Shitty as it may be to have spoiled a scene in our future, I breathe easier knowing that wherever, whenever that was—it looked warm. We’re going to make it through to the summer, I think to myself. That’s at least six more months of happily dating Ollie.

I’ll take it.

25

Chapter Twenty-Five

The morning after the best hotel sex of my life—well, theonlyhotel sex of my life—we stop by my coach house for a change in clothes, then arrive at Angeline’s shop for Ollie’sReikiappointment. I have no idea if he regrets saying yes, but I’m grateful for his willingness to play spiritual guinea pig and help out Angeline; someone who has helped me out tenfold.

“Shirt off and hop on the bed, Toots,” Angeline spouts off as she walks us to her back office. Something tells me that’s not the first time she’s greeted a man in her life just like that.

“Good morning to you, too, Angeline,” I intervene.

“Oh, yeah. Formalities. Forgot about those. I’m Madame Angeline. This is my store. Your girlfriend and I spend a lot of time here. Yadi-yadi-yada. Am I forgetting anything else, Miss Manners?”

“That about covers it,” I say, not at all ignoring the fact she called me Ollie’s girlfriend before Ollie has called me his girlfriend. Of course he heard her say it, too. How much pause did it give him, is the question.

“Oh, and uh, thanks,” she says. “This is a big help to me.”

I can tell under her hardened approach, she’s nervous, humble, and grateful.

“Pleasure to be of service,” Ollie says, his hospitality roots shining through.

Ollie then peels off his shirt and hands it to me. I’m no stranger to his stomach, chest, and tattoo by now, but every time I see a part of him unclothed, I feel like the air in the room gets ten degrees hotter.

“Do you want me stay in the room?” I don’t know if the question is geared toward Angeline or Ollie. Either way, I wait for someone to answer me.

“Up to you,” Angeline takes the lead on a reply. “If you want to see a littleReikiin action, I never mind an audience. After all, thisisjust a practice session to log the necessary hours. Once I’m certified, appointments will be strictly one-on-one.”

“Yeah, you can stay,” confirms Ollie.

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