Page 70 of The Woman in 3B
Despite my cajoling, Anissa didn’t spend the night that evening. She didn’t have a business trip in the morning, but she was on call. Her work situation was very similar to mine. We had days off that were untouchable by our employer, but other days when we weren’t scheduled to travel we still needed to be able to get to the airport in case our services were needed.
She insisted on calling a Lyft, but I insisted more strongly on driving her back to Dearborn. When we arrived, I parked in front of her house and walked her to her front door. The safety precaution was unwarranted; it was a safe neighborhood—much more so than where I lived—but I wanted to delay our saying goodbye for as long as possible.
We stood on the front stoop together, holding hands. We’d spent a lot of time together recently. We’d even had sex. But the moment felt more important and significant than me simply dropping her off after a routine day.
She’d had the foresight to keep on the porch light or maybe it was on a timer. A moth fluttered stubbornly against the glass-enclosed lantern. I could hear its delicate wings tap against the glass. It would never reach the illusive heat source, and even if it did, it would be its own demise. Despite these obstacles, it tried again and again.
Anissa didn’t seem to notice the winged insect and I didn’t bother pointing it out to her, sure that she would scamper inside before I got a proper goodbye.
The question nearly got caught in my throat, but I needed to ask. “Can I see you again?”
A small smile played at the corner of her mouth. “On Wednesday?”
I couldn’t tell if she was teasing me, but my heart dropped nonetheless.
My face must have revealed my disappointment, because before I could mutter another convincing syllable, she was grabbing the sides of my face and kissing me deeply. A surprised noise tumbled up my throat, but she swallowed it down before it could escape.
There was no controlling her pace or pressure. It didn’t feel like she was kissing me; it felt like she was kissingthroughme. I held on to the front of her t-shirt—a shirt she’d borrowed from my closet—to keep from tipping over.
She pulled back from the kiss, leaving me panting. She continued to hold onto my face. Her caramel eyes stared hard into mine. “I would love to go out with you again.”
She said the words with conviction, like it was essential that I heard and believed her.
“Okay,” I happily sighed.
She released her grip on the sides of my face, but I could still feel her fingers like branding irons on my cheeks. “Call me when you’re done flying tomorrow.”
“I might not be able to wait that long,” I blurted out.
I was supposed to be coy. Play it cool. Not let on that I felt too much so soon. But my heart was already hanging on my sleeve, and there was no sense trying to put it away.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The next morning, I stared at my cellphone and chewed on my lower lip. I stood on the moving sidewalk, trying to compose the perfect text message that was both charming and nonchalant, thoughtful without looking like I was trying too hard. But everything I’d come up with so far was coming across as too clingy.
I scrutinized my most recent construction:Good morning, beautiful.
It was morning. And Anissa was beautiful. Both statements were facts. But was it too forceful? Too coupley? She’d said she wanted to see me again, not move in together.
I looked up from my phone when I reached the end of the moving sidewalk. Gemma was waiting for me, two cardboard cups of coffee in her expectant hands. I pocketed my phone for the moment without sending the over-analyzed text.
“Good morning!” Gemma beamed. She pressed one of the black coffees into my outstretched hand like a relay team passing their baton to the next runner.
I popped off the plastic cover and inhaled the coffee’s rich aroma. “You’re an angel,” I hummed in approval.
“Late night?” she asked. We started to walk in step with one another in the direction of our Monday morning gates. My flight to Seattle happened to be right next to her gate to San Francisco.
“Actually, I got to bed pretty early,” I admitted.
Gemma grinned and gave me a knowing look. “Oh, I bet you did.”
Her reaction made me laugh. “Nothing like that. Just a long, busy weekend.”
“Oh yeah? What did you do?”
“On Saturday, Anissa and I went to the baseball game and we ate pizza at my apartment afterwards.”
“That sounds dreamy,” Gemma sighed wistfully. “I wish I was a lesbian.”
