SHORT STORIES 6 #4
He pulled out gently, dealt with the condom, and came back with a warm washcloth without being asked. Holly let him clean her up and decided that competence after sex was severely underrated. Then he stretched out and gathered her against his chest. She fit there like the space had been waiting.
"How do you feel?" he asked into her hair.
"Like I need water and also like I might ask for round two in an hour."
He laughed, low and satisfied. "Water first. Ego second. Round two only if you are not sore."
"I am a little sore. Worth it." She tipped her face up. "Thank you for not making me feel small in the ways that matter."
Ethan brushed his thumb along her cheek. "You are small in the ways that are fun and full-sized in every way that counts. Mouth. Mind. Nerve."
"Good. Keep thinking that."
They drank water in bed and talked about nothing important: bad movies, favorite takeout, whether his truck had a name. Holly said no vehicle deserved a name. Ethan said his truck was called Boat and she was not allowed to insult it after it had witnessed their first almost-date in the pines.
Eventually talking turned back into touching.
Round two was lazier, Holly astride him so she controlled depth, his hands spanning her waist as she learned how to take him at her own rhythm.
She came with her palms on his chest and her head thrown back.
He followed soon after, holding her like she might float away.
Near midnight she checked her phone and found a message from Ryan.
Ryan: Checking you are not in a ditch. Reply with any emoji if alive. Wait. You hate emojis. Reply with the word pickle if alive.
Holly snorted and typed.
Holly: Pickle. I am fine. Do not wait up. Mentally. For Monday.
Ryan: Disgusting. Proud. I need no details and also all details. Goodnight.
Ethan read the exchange over her shoulder when she tilted the screen and grinned. "I like him."
"Everyone likes him. It is annoying." She set the phone aside. "I should sleep. If I stay awake I will start planning how to look normal at work."
"Stay the night," Ethan said. "I will drive you home in the morning with enough time to change. Or I can take you now if you sleep better in your own bed."
Holly considered her empty apartment, then the warm bulk of him beside her. "I will stay. Your bed is objectively better."
"Boat will be jealous."
"Boat can cope."
She slept hard, tucked against him, one of his arms around her middle like a seat belt she did not mind.
In the morning he made coffee that was almost good and eggs that were actually good.
Holly sat on a kitchen stool in one of his shirts, sleeves rolled many times, hem hitting her mid-thigh, and felt a ridiculous fondness for the whole picture.
"Dinner again this week?" Ethan asked, trying and failing to sound casual.
"Yes. Wednesday if you can. And text me before then so I know yesterday was not a very athletic fever dream."
"It was real." He leaned down and kissed her, tasting like coffee. "I will text you before you reach the lobby."
He did. She smiled at her phone in his passenger seat the whole drive back to her building.
Monday arrived on schedule, which Holly considered rude. She got to her desk five minutes early with a coffee and a carefully neutral face. Ryan Park rolled his chair over before she had even unlocked her computer.
"You look like a person who slept," he said. "Suspicious. Report."
Holly sipped her coffee. "I had dinner. I stayed over. He is decent and careful and funny. His name is still Ethan. He still changed my tire. That is the press release."
Ryan studied her, then smiled in a way that was mostly kind. "Fine. Keep your classified files. Just tell me one thing. Are you happy?"
Holly thought of pine shade, a black dress on a bedroom floor, and the way Ethan had asked before every step that mattered.
"Yes," she said. "I am happy."
"Then I approve pending further inspection. If he hurts you, I know people. By people I mean I know how to file very aggressive HR-adjacent complaints in social settings."
"Romantic."
"I contain multitudes." Ryan rolled back to his desk. "Also, stand-up in four minutes. Try not to smile like that in front of management. They will assign you more work."
Holly opened her laptop and, against advice, smiled anyway. Her phone buzzed.
Ethan: Morning. Still thinking about you in my shirt. Still free Wednesday?
Holly: Still free. Still thinking about you not gloating in the pines. Bring Boat if you want. I am driving separate so I can leave if you order bad dessert.
Ethan: Deal. Miss you already, Grant.
Holly: Miss you too, Cole.
She put the phone away as the meeting reminder popped up, smoothed her blouse, and walked to the conference room with Ryan beside her arguing about whose turn it was to take notes. Outside, the city moved at its usual impatient speed. For once, Holly did not feel the need to outrun any of it.
She had followed a black truck into the hills on a hot afternoon and chosen, clearly and repeatedly, every door that opened after. Big and small had met in the middle, and the middle turned out to be exactly big enough for both of them.