We’re desperate and needy, frenzied and feral. Aaron rolls a condom on and enters me on one quick stroke, but once he’s inside me, the urgency seems to wane.
The kisses slow and he rolls his hips, grinding against me, pulling me higher and higher until we both tip over the edge.
He rolls us over so I’m sprawled across his chest. I trace patterns on his chest. Most of his tattoos are on his back, apart from the hourglass on his triceps.
“You keep that up and I’m going to pass out on you.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I gotta be up at the ass crack of dawn. I don’t want to ruin your sleep.” He runs his fingers through my hair.
“You won’t.”
“You’re sure?” His lips brush my temple.
“I’m sure.”
“Good, ’cause your bed is warm and I don’t want to drive home,” he mutters, already slipping into semiconsciousness.
I rest my cheek on his chest, smiling as I listen to his heartbeat settle, slow and steady. I nod off, too, and wake up at two in the morning, still tucked into Aaron’s side. I lie there for a while, willing my brain to shut back down, but my bladder is screaming, and I know if I don’t take my medication, there’s no way I’ll be able to fall back asleep.
I carefully extract myself and tiptoe across the room. Not that I need to be quiet. Apparently, Aaron sleeps like the dead. I have confirmation of that when I knock my flat iron off the vanity and he doesn’t stir at all. Once I’m done in the bathroom, I climb back into bed and curl into Aaron’s side. It takes me almost two hours to fall back to sleep, but at least I’m comfortable, and for the first time in forever, I feel grounded. And I want it to last.
CHAPTER 13
THE BALANCING ACT
Teagan
I wake up the next morning to an empty bed. It’s not a surprise, considering it’s after ten and Aaron has to be at work early. There’s a piece of paper on the pillow beside my head. I expect messy, rushed scrawl, but it’s the opposite. And it’s not one line but several, in neat cursive.
Teagan,
Thanks for letting me crash at your place. I probably would have passed out in my truck and slept in the driveway if you hadn’t. And I have a feeling I missed the pillow talk because I was so wiped out. I promise I’ll make it up to you next time.
I’ll be honest, I tried to wake you up before I left for work, but you weren’t having it. You’re adorable when you talk in your sleep.
Have a great day and I’ll see you later at the pub.
——Aaron
I hug the paper to my chest, smiling at the ceiling. I’m not sure whether I believe he tried to wake me up, but it’s possible. Sometimes I can sleep like the dead, especially when I’m late taking my medication, like I was last night.
Early in the afternoon I head downtown so I can stop by town hall and talk to one of the councilors about the possibility of setting up a farmers’ market and what that would entail. The great thing about small towns is that someone is always around and wanting to talk.
I introduce myself to Bernadette, one of the town councilors, who also happens to be Bernie’s wife.
“You’re Donovan Firestone’s sister, aren’t you?” she says as she shakes my hand.
“I am.” I return her smile with one of my own.
“I’m so pleased to meet you! Bernie has said such wonderful things about you! And so has Donna. She’s so happy to have Fridays off! She’s been wanting to take some recreational courses the next town over, and now she can.”
“She told me about that! I’ve seen some of her stained glass projects, and they’re beautiful.”
“They are, aren’t they? It’s so lovely that she finally has the opportunity to pursue some of her own interests. Not that she hasn’t been a big help for Bernie, but I’m sure you know how it is. It’s nice to be able to focus on the things we love more as we get older.”
“Absolutely. I think it’s great that she’s taking time to try new things.”
“Exactly! You’re never too old to find a new hobby. And she’s even sold a couple of pieces, so her hobby is paying for itself. She’s been invited to a craft fair in the fall, so she’s planning on making all kinds of fall-inspired stained glass to sell.”
“That’s great! And it’s actually part of the reason I’m here today.”
She offers me a seat in her office, and I share my idea with her. The main street in downtown Pearl Lake is short, and often busy in the summer with all the vacationers. The street leading to South Beach isn’t as high traffic, since it’s mostly locals who use that beach, but it could be the perfect place for a farmers’ market.
“We used to have one years ago, but they can be expensive to run, and not everyone can afford the table fees. They started letting out-of-towners participate, and it stopped being about the community, so the locals didn’t want to be part of it anymore. Plus, there’s cleanup after the event, and you’d need to have enough vendor interest for it to be worthwhile.”
“I agree. I’m thinking twenty or so vendors, and maybe we could poll the community at the next town council meeting to gauge interest? I can write up a proposal and present it. I’d also be more than happy to organize everything. I think it would be a great way to help bolster the small businesses. We could start with an end-of-summer event and see how it goes?”
“I don’t think it hurts to see if people would be interested. It’s a big project, though; are you sure you want to take it on all by yourself?”
“I used to do some event organization when I worked in the city, so this isn’t too outside the realm of what I’m used to.”
“Well, if you’re up for it, then I say go for it. The next town council meeting is a week from Monday.”
“That’s perfect. I’ll have a proposal ready, and if it’s okay, I’ll send it to you first?”
“Of course. You can bring it in, and we can talk it over and make any necessary tweaks before the council meets.”
She walks me out and shakes my hand. “Your grandmother would be proud of you and your brother.”
My heart squeezes at the compliment. I didn’t get to spend as much time with Grammy Bee as Van did, but I know she was an active and well-loved member of this community. “Thank you, that means a lot.”
My shift at the Town Pub starts in an hour, so I jump back in my car and head in that direction. I fish around in my purse for the energy drink I tossed in there. Despite waking up late, I’m still tired from the broken sleep. I crack the tab and gulp down half of it in the parking lot.
It doesn’t hurt to show up early, and if I sit around in my car, waiting for four, I’m liable to fall asleep. Louis calls me behind the bar as soon as I walk through the door, the afternoon rush having already started, and tosses me an apron.
The usual suspects begin filtering in. By four thirty the bar is lined with locals, chatting about the weather, weekend plans, and how they can’t wait for the buggy season to be over. At seven thirty, Aaron takes his seat at the bar, and I make him a root beer float and order him the special.