Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
February
I’m no stranger to casual arrangements, so, I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting for Harlow and I to start texting.
I didn’t think I’d message her again until I was headed back to Michigan, but I couldn’t help it.
I love having someone in my life who shares my love for traveling.
Plus, she’s fun to talk to. She makes me laugh and conversation flows effortlessly.
I expected the fact I’m so sporadic in my messaging to annoy Harlow, but she doesn’t care. Half the time, it also takes her hours to respond when she’s busy at work. It makes things easy. We both know we’ll eventually respond when we can.
It doesn’t mean anything deep, we’re obviously still casual.
I even hooked up with someone the week I got home after the holidays.
It was with some random woman I met at a bar.
The sex was okay, I guess, but all my mind and body could think about was my time with Harlow, and the new experience felt so bland and unsatisfying in comparison.
I haven’t hooked up with anyone else, but I could. Harlow probably is.
I don’t care if she is.
We are casual.
I glance at my phone again and frown at the lack of notifications. Harlow hasn’t texted since this morning. It’s Valentine’s Day, I don’t expect to hear from her, but still, I can’t help but check my phone in case I miss a text.
Pouring myself a third glass of wine, I turn the volume up on the movie people won’t shut up about online. But this shit is weird. I finish slicing my lime when the damn dog on screen starts talking.
What the fuck?
After ten minutes, without thinking, I grab my phone.
Lily:
If Daisy could talk, what kind of conversations do you think you would have with her?
Harlow writes back instantly.
Harlow:
Are you high??
I chuckle because fair.
Lily:
No?
Lily:
I’m watching this weird ass movie while making dinner and this dudes pug is so judgemental and sassy it had me thinking about what Daisy would be like
Harlow: Daisy would be a total sweetheart
Lily:
YESS
Lily:
She would be the sunshine to your grumpy!!
Three little dots appear, then disappear. I finely dice a red onion when the dots appear once again.
Harlow:
I’m not grumpy?
I chuckle and lean my hip against my counter as I find the perfect GIF. It’s from some super old TV show my mom likes but I don’t know the name of. A young blonde girl saying, “Sure, Jan.”
Harlow:
I’m not??
I laugh loudly and take a long pull from my wine as I send a GIF of David from Schitt’s Creek nodding all condescendingly.
Harlow:
Lily:
I mayyyyy be a little wine drunk
Harlow:
You don’t say?
I roll my eyes and carefully set a tortilla shell in hot oil.
Lily:
Shut up
Lily:
What’re you doing?
Harlow:
Watching a movie with my hot date.
My breath catches until a photo appears in the text thread. It’s Daisy cuddled up on Harlow’s side, and she’s so adorable I could cry.
Lily:
Lily:
Omfg I’m so jealous
I’m staring at the small glimpse of Harlow’s thick thighs beside Daisy as the pan sizzle hits a crescendo. I glance up and lunge forward, taking my tongs and snatching the burnt tortilla from the oil. I curse and say fuck it. This is too dangerous.
Harlow answers my phone call after the second ring. “Hello?” she asks hesitantly.
“Sorry, I’m frying tortilla shells, and you were distracting me so much I burnt the first one.”
“I’m sorry?” she says, and I laugh.
“You should be! I’m so hungry I just might eat this crispy ass shell, anyway.”
Harlow snorts. “I was going to ask if you can cook, but I think this answered that.”
“Oh, my god. Whatever!” I huff. “I’m a fantastic chef, thank you very much.”
She chuckles unconvincingly. “Making dinner for your own hot date?”
“The hottest,” I say. “My bottle of Pinot Noir.”
She laughs a little breathlessly and sounds shocked when she asks, “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Why’d you say it like that?”
“I … I don’t know. It’s Valentine’s Day. I kind of assumed … I don’t know.”
“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” I smile to myself. “But no, this day is too romantic. Even when women say they’re fine with casual, I’ve been burned one too many times after spending this night together. It’s easier to avoid it altogether.”
“That …” She pauses. “That makes sense.”
I can’t lie, the thought crossed my mind that the reason I hadn’t heard from Harlow is because she’s out on a date. Yet, I’m surprised by how relieved I am that she’s not. Sex with Harlow is great, and I don’t want to lose another casual partner.
I know she said she’s not interested in a relationship, but neither was Marisol—a gorgeous woman who lives by me in San Francisco.
I could always count on her for a fun night, until she met her now girlfriend, Bianca.
With Casey making things with Dakota official and then Marisol and Bianca, I can’t help but feel some type of way.
It’s hard finding someone I enjoy hooking up with who won’t develop feelings.
I meant what I told Harlow, I’d be a terrible girlfriend, and it’ll only result in hurt feelings if I try.
“My tacos are done,” I say as I pull myself from my thoughts. I flick the burner off and take my assembled tacos to the couch. “Tell me, what are you and sunshine watching?”
There’s a rustling on the other end like she’s getting comfortable. “It’s a psychological thriller, but the plot has gone way over my head. I have no idea what’s happening.”
“Damn. And now I have a newfound appreciation for the judgemental pug.”
“It’s probably the superior choice,” she concedes.
“Oh, for sure. Hold on.” I switch to speaker so I don’t chew in her ear. “Mmm. These are fucking delicious!”
“Your burnt tacos?”
I groan around another bite. “I threw the burnt one away!” I say after I swallow. “This one is perfection.”
“Sure, Jan.”
“Keep it up,” I say. “I’ll cook for you, and you’ll see how great I am.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
I laugh, and we continue on like this, talking and teasing each other until her movie ends and I pretend mine did too—even though it ended fifteen minutes ago—then we pick out something to start at the same time and watch it together.