by Jae
“Christ. She definitely deserves being reported to the LGBT police for that.” Susanne’s voice sounded rough, as if she’d love to help dole out any kind of punishment they would decide on. “I haven’t known you very long, but I’m pretty sure you’d never cheat on anyone.”
The invisible armor Anja had surrounded herself with shattered into a million little pieces. Susanne’s instinctive trust in her felt incredibly good. “Never.”
Susanne nodded. “So you’ve only ever had three relationships?”
“Yes, unless you count Miri. Is that so out of the ordinary?”
“No, but—wait! You and Miriam were a couple?”
Anja laughed at her wide-eyed look. She always found it satisfying to see the controlled woman lose her cool. “No. We tried, but there just wasn’t any…” She gestured, searching for the right word.
“Spark,” Susanne finished for her.
Their gazes met and held until Anja forced herself to look away. “Yes.” Unlike the two of us. She pushed the thought away, as deeply into the recesses of her mind as it would go. “How about you?”
“No spark between Miriam and me either,” Susanne answered with a straight face. “I think my sister would kill me if there was. Did you know Miriam is in Berlin, visiting her, this weekend?”
“Yes, Miri told me.”
Susanne shook her head. “They’ve known each other for all of a week. I’ll never understand how some women get involved so fast!”
“Don’t worry. Miri isn’t the U-Haul type, and Franzi seems to be more into fun than commitment too. But don’t think I didn’t notice that you’re trying to distract me from my question.” Anja poked Susanne’s shoulder, then let her hand linger there as she sensed the warm skin beneath her sweater. God, get a grip. She snatched her hand away. “If you want to be friends, I can’t be the only one confessing embarrassing relationship stories.”
Susanne shrugged. “That’s the thing. I don’t really have any relationship stories, embarrassing or otherwise. Compared to the long-term relationships you must have had, mine really don’t deserve that name.”
“So you’ve just had one-night stands or short flings?” A hollow feeling settled in the pit of her stomach at the thought, even though she told herself it didn’t matter whether Susanne was the relationship type or not.
“I’m not a womanizer by any means. I’ve had flings, but I’ve also had just as many long-term relationships.”
“Then why do you say they don’t deserve that name?”
Again that one-shouldered shrug from Susanne. It was kind of cute how awkward or maybe embarrassed the confident woman suddenly appeared.
“I don’t know,” Susanne said. “Even those relationships that lasted longer stayed kind of superficial. More like casual dating than let’s-bare-our-souls-and-move-in-together relationships.”
Anja tried to imagine what that must be like. Probably dinner and sex but very little talking about things that really mattered. But she drew the line at asking her that. It was bad enough that she kept having flashbacks to that near kiss; she didn’t need to start fantasizing about what Susanne would be like in bed.
“I guess I was…am too caught up with work to invest much time or energy into a relationship,” Susanne added.
Anja studied her, trying to figure out if Susanne was happy with that kind of love life. But before she could make sense of the complex emotions darting across her face, Susanne tapped the laptop. “You know what? Let’s just leave the gift ideas blog post the way it is. It’s one of many, so it’s not worth wasting that much time on it. Want to do the next one?” She held out the list of blog topics they had brainstormed.
For a moment, Anja considered tackling the Beginner’s Guide to Traveler’s Notebooks or Eco-Friendly Pens and Paper. But at the thought of having to write yet another blog post, her brain threatened to go on strike. “No. I need a break from all the blog prep.” She took the list from Susanne and closed the laptop. “Let’s do something fun instead.”
“Fun?” Susanne repeated with a dubious expression, as if she’d forgotten the meaning of the word.
Anja smiled. “Yeah. Something fun…with our hands,” she couldn’t resist adding. She told herself she wasn’t flirting, just teasing a new friend a little.
Susanne’s gaze went to Anja’s hands, and a sensual smile played around the corners of her mouth. “Were you thinking of anything in particular?” Her voice was a seductive purr.
Anja shivered as goose bumps spread over every centimeter of her skin. That would teach her not to tease Susanne. Apparently, she could out-flirt her without making half an effort. “You don’t want to know what I was thinking of,” she mumbled under her breath. More loudly, she added, “Paper boats.”
The look on Susanne’s face made Anja burst out laughing.
“Paper boats?” Susanne repeated.
“Yes. Were you expecting something else?” Anja asked in her most innocent tone.
“No. I was thinking of origami all along, of course.”
Anja grinned at her. “Mm-hmm. Sure. I’ve been thinking about what you said at Paperworld. About tying our products to our location. One of the things that make Freiburg special is the Bächle. They even sell Bächle boats at the farmers market.”
“Yeah, I saw them. What about them?”
“I thought we could make our own. Not for sale, just as a decoration to point passersby toward the store. We could make paper boats, place them on a sheet of Plexiglas, and put it on the Bächle right across from Paper Love. That way, the paper boats would look like they are bobbing on the water.”
Susanne leaned back on her chair, stretching her long legs out beneath the table. When she put one hand behind her head and directed her gaze to the ceiling while she seemed to think about it, Anja’s gaze was drawn to the delicious line of her body.
God, she really needed to get a hold of herself.
“I like it,” Susanne finally said. “We would need to get a permit from the city, but I think it’s worth the trouble. If we had an entire armada of paper boats, they could form an arrow pointing at the store.”
“Ooh, great idea!” Anja jumped up and rummaged through her desk drawer for colorful paper and other craft supplies. When she returned to the table, she slid her chair back to its old position, away from Susanne’s distracting closeness, before she sat down. “Okay, let’s get started.”
“Uh, I think you should be our designated boatbuilder. I’m the digital expert, remember? I’m not very good at that creative stuff.” Susanne held up her hands and wiggled her fingers as if to prove a point.
Anja studied her long, slender fingers. She seriously doubted that those fingers would fumble awkwardly, no matter what they were doing. Her mouth went dry, and she emptied her hot chocolate, which had long since gone cold. “Nonsense. We said we’re in this together. Anyone can build a paper boat, even a five-year-old kid. It’ll all come back to you once we start.”
Susanne shook her head. “I don’t think I ever made one, even as a child.”
“Seriously?” Anja had never heard of anyone not knowing how to build a paper boat. “No one ever showed you?”
“Not that I remember.”
Determined, Anja slid a turquoise sheet of paper in front of her. “Then I’ll teach you how to do it.” She ignored Susanne’s grumbling and took the pink sheet for herself. “First, you fold your sheet in half. Then you fold the top corners to meet in the middle.”
She hadn’t made a paper boat in a very long time, but muscle memory kicked in. Apparently, her fingers remembered the steps. After each one, she waited until Susanne had copied what she was doing. “Now fold up the flaps at the bottom and tuck in the corners.”
Susanne did as instructed. “I thought we were making a boat, not a party hat.”
“Patience, young Padawan.” Anja playfully poked her with one corner of her own party hat before taking it and opening it up. “Pull the two sides of the hat apart in the middl
e and push the corners together so that it forms a square.”
“Jeez, I’ve put together Ikea furniture that was easier to assemble,” Susanne mumbled.
“You have Ikea furniture? You?”
“What, you think I have only artisan solid wood furniture, where a single bedside table costs a thousand euros?”
“Um…” Truth be told, Anja had assumed something like that.
“I splurged on a really nice couch and a massive desk for my apartment in Berlin, but other than that, my furniture is mix and match. A friend of mine loves finding furniture at flea markets and then restoring the various pieces. She even had me help with my dresser and a bookcase.”
Anja imagined Susanne lovingly running a sanding block or a paintbrush along a piece of wood but quickly banished the image from her mind. “And yet you’re complaining about a simple paper boat? Keep going, woman!”
“Yeah, yeah. What’s next?”
“You fold up the bottom points on each side.” She held up her piece of paper, which now was a triangle again. “And then you repeat what you did earlier, pulling the sides apart in the middle to make it a square again.”
Susanne struggled a little. The cute line between her brows made a reappearance. Finally, she held up her own square. “Got it.”
“Now comes the tricky step. You pull the top parts outward.”
“Which parts?”
“This and this.” When Anja reached over to show her, their fingers brushed.
Both froze.
Warmth spread from Anja’s fingers to the rest of her body. God, how could an innocent little touch like this affect her so much? It took all her self-control not to caress Susanne’s fingers, trail her hand up her wrist to the soft skin on the inside of her forearm, and then…
She swallowed heavily. Stop torturing yourself. With a trembling finger, she tapped the two points at the top of the square, this time careful not to brush Susanne’s hand again. “These two.” Her voice was husky.
Was it just wishful thinking, or were Susanne’s hands a little unsteady too as she pulled the two parts outward? “Oh. What do you know? It’s a boat. Well, kind of.”
The sail in the middle was coming apart where she hadn’t folded it quite right.
Susanne chuckled and ran her thumb along the sail to fix it. “I think we should name this one the Titanic.”
Anja put a yellow sheet of paper in front of her. “Try another.”
This time Susanne did it without help, and Anja wasn’t sure if she should be proud of her student or disappointed that there would be no more accidental brushes of their fingers.
Once Susanne had all the steps memorized, they raced each other to see who could make a boat faster or who could make the smallest paper vessel.
“Hey, you’re cheating!” Anja threw the Titanic at her. “Don’t think I didn’t see you using two sheets of paper for the first two steps so you can finish the next one faster.”
Susanne continued folding unrepentantly. “All is fair in love and paper boat making.”
“God, you’re so competitive!” But Anja’s complaint wasn’t for real. Secretly, she liked that Susanne challenged her to do things differently and to push herself.
Finally, they had used up Anja’s entire package of craft paper. They finished their last boats and looked up at the exact same moment.
The table was covered in a fleet of colorful paper boats in various sizes.
“Wow. I think we went a little overboard.” Susanne laughed. “That’s way more than we need.” She picked up one that Anja had made before they had started racing each other and traced the skull-and-crossbones toothpick flag Anja had inserted at the top. She looked over at Anja. “Beautiful.”
Her gray eyes held such a soft expression that Anja couldn’t believe she had ever thought them cold. She wanted to thank her for the compliment, but looking into Susanne’s eyes, she couldn’t get the words out.
Susanne cleared her throat and redirected her gaze back to the boat in her hands. “You should do this in the store, you know?”
“Fold paper boats?”
“Offer a seminar on origami or that calligraphy thing you do with the brush pens. Once people see what works of art you can create, they’ll want to do it too, and they’ll buy the craft supplies they need in the store.”
“I’d love that! When can we start?”
Susanne laughed. “Let’s wait until we’ve built up our newsletter a bit. Otherwise, you might sit there with me as your only student.”
Anja wouldn’t mind at all. She bit her lip so the words wouldn’t slip out. “Pick one.” She gestured at the pile of boats and chose a purple one with a smiley face on the sail for herself.
“Why?”
“Because as you keep saying: how can we recommend our products to our customers if we haven’t tested them out? We’re going to float them on the lake.”
“Lake?” Susanne repeated slowly.
“Yes. It’s not even a ten-minute walk from here, and it’ll be nice to get some fresh air after being stuck inside all day.”
“You want us—two mature adults—to float paper boats in public on a Saturday afternoon, when there’ll be plenty of people at the lake?”
Anja smiled. “Too chicken to do it?”
Susanne huffed, stood, and grabbed the boat she had dubbed the Titanic. “Come on. The one whose boat sinks first buys dinner.”
It was after nine and the sun had long since gone down by the time Susanne finally got up from Anja’s sofa. When Susanne’s paper boat had been kidnapped by a curious swan, Anja had laughed and declared herself the winner of their bet, so Susanne had paid for takeout from Kashmir. They had taken the food back to Anja’s apartment, and the time had flown by while they ate, decorated their boats, and talked.
Anja followed her into the hall and stood watching while Susanne put on her coat.
Susanne opened the door but made no move to step through it. They had spent most of the day working, so why did this feel like saying goodbye after a date? An amazing date even. She couldn’t remember when she had last had so much fun and talked so openly.
“Thanks for coming over.” Anja shuffled her slippered feet. “I had a great time.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Anja grinned. “Even when your boat got swan-napped?”
The term made Susanne laugh. “Maybe I shouldn’t have named it Titanic. With a name like that, it was doomed from the start. But at least now we can say even swans love our paper products, right?”
“Right.”
They smiled at each other. Seconds ticked by, then Susanne gave herself a mental kick before she could get sucked in by the warm glow in Anja’s brown eyes. “Well then, I’d better go.”
“Yeah.”
Susanne hesitated. Should she hug her? They had decided to be friends, and that’s how friends said goodbye, right? But was it really a good idea to—?
Before she could finish her internal discussion, Anja stepped forward, right into her personal space, and wrapped her arms around her in a quick hug.
Anja was several centimeters shorter, her forehead coming up to Susanne’s mouth, and she hugged with the same mix of carefulness and abandon that she’d put into making the paper boats.
Susanne enfolded her into her arms. When she felt Anja’s warmth, her body pressed a little closer without her conscious decision. Her eyes fell closed of their own accord. How could a simple hug feel so amazing?
Then, before Susanne was ready, Anja let go and stepped back.
Susanne quickly opened her eyes.
“Want to get together to prepare two more blog posts tomorrow?” Anja asked.
A part of her wanted to nod enthusiastically. Yeah, the part called libido. But she knew it was more than that. She genuinely enjoyed Anja’s company, and somehow that was even worse.
“Hey, if you want to have a real day off, that’s no problem,” Anja said when Susanne took a while to answer. “We can do it on Monday
or—”
“No, that’s fine. We can do it tomorrow.” She was an adult, after all, not a teenager who couldn’t control her hormones.
“All right. Just call whenever you want. Other than water volleyball in the morning, I don’t have any plans.”
That conjured up visions of Anja in a bathing suit or, God help her, a bikini. She tried to swat the thought away, but like an annoying fly, it returned immediately. “Will do. Good night.”
“Good night. Drive safely.”
Before Susanne could do something stupid, like try for another hug, she turned on her heel and jogged down the stairs.
Just as she reached the front door, someone on the other side prepared to unlock it.
Susanne opened the door and held it open for the couple in their sixties. She had seen them before and knew they lived on the same floor as Anja. She gave them a polite nod.
Instead of returning the nod and walking past her, the woman paused and stuck out her hand. “I’m Regina, and this is my husband, Volker. I thought now that you moved in with Anja, we’ll be seeing more of each other, so we should introduce ourselves.”
Susanne had already extended her hand when she realized what Anja’s neighbor had just said. Her fingers went limp in the woman’s enthusiastic grip. “Oh, no, no, I haven’t moved in. I’m not… We’re not a couple.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Regina hastily let go. “I thought…” She gestured upstairs. “Since you spend so much time at Anja’s…”
“We’re working. We…” Susanne snapped her mouth shut. She didn’t owe them an explanation, and why did she care what they thought? She just hoped Anja had closed her apartment door already and wasn’t still standing in the doorway, where she might be able to hear their conversation.
Volker patted his wife’s shoulder. “Well, it’s nice to meet you anyway.”
“Uh, likewise. Have a nice evening.”
“You too.” They squeezed past her and climbed the stairs.
Susanne stepped outside and let the door close behind her. God, that had been awkward. But then again, there were worse things than being mistaken for Anja’s girlfriend. If things were different, she could see herself… She cut herself off before she could finish the thought and marched to her car without looking back.
