"Exactly. I'm going with the flow. How much easier could things be?" she asked. "It's thrilling when you think about it."
Her fingers played with one of the buttons on Logan's shirt, twisting it softly. Her touch sent a shiver through him.
"Are you cold?" Her hand rested on his stomach for a moment, almost like a caress. Her voice held either surprise or concern with this question.
"No," he managed to answer. "Just a draft from the door, that's all." A customer was hurrying out with a to-go sack, grabbing a cab waiting against the curb.
Danni hadn't moved her hand yet. It rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing. His hand on her shoulder stroked the fabric of her dress lightly.
They were both quiet. Logan's head moved, his cheek resting against the top of her head. Against the softness of her hair, scented with lime and mango.
What are we doing? he thought. Is this really happening? Everything about this felt good. It felt right. But it also felt surreal, given the fact they were joking at the table only ten minutes ago. If he didn't know he was awake, he would think he was dreaming of this moment with Danielle.
She lifted her head, moving it gently from beneath his cheek. Looking into his eyes, with a glance that lasted a long time between them. Her eyes were as full of questions as his own. Full of something more, too, but he didn't know what.
"I think I need another latte," she said, softly. "Toast the New Year in, since it's almost midnight."
"I could use a second cup of coffee," he said. "No champagne for us, right?"
"Peppermint beats champagne any day," she whispered back.
He drew his arm from around her shoulders and stood up. Danni fumbled to slip on her shoes again. Logan grabbed his jacket from the sofa. They should go back to the table, he thought.
"Last one before midnight," said Kimberly, as she delivered two cups of coffee to the table. The latte was topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream, crushed peppermint sprinkled over the top. "We stop serving our holiday specials after tonight, by the way."
"I know," answered Danni, with a polite smile. Across from her, Logan stirred sugar into his coffee. His heart was beating as quickly as Danni's own. He knew it wasn't excitement for the new year, either. And not just because it sped up whenever his eyes met hers.
"Danni, I ... I have something I've wanted to say to you for awhile," he said. "I don't know if now's the time, or the place —" He hesitated. One table away, a group of late arrivals, more former partygoers, were counting down the last minute to midnight, getting louder with each passing second.
She touched his cheek. A lightning bolt passing through his skin with this touch, drawing his attention to her face again, not the noise from the next table. Her fingers moving softly against the roughness of his five o' clock shadow.
"You need a shave," she said.
"Yeah." He grinned, slightly. "I didn't have time this afternoon. Felt pointless after the meeting."
"I like it," she answered, softly.
His hand moved to touch her own, the one resting on the table. Lightly, his fingers touching hers, feeling her trace the tips of his own in response. His chair was angled close enough for him to rest his head against Danielle's. His lips brushed against her hair, her forehead, kissing each one.
"What's happening here?" he asked, as he rested his forehead against hers. "Between us. With this ... this moment. What is this, Danni?"
"I don't know," she whispered. Her eyes were closed. Her lips brushed against his left cheekbone, a touch so soft that it felt like a feather tracing his skin.
"Danni, I want this. I do. But I need to know if ..."
The neighboring table was shouting the final five seconds before midnight. He heard the blast of a party horn to a chorus of "Happy New Year's" as the last second ticked past.
"Let's go with the flow," Danni whispered to him. Her breath was on his lips, almost like a kiss.
She looked into his eyes. Her hand cupped his cheek again, caressing it. His hand encircled her free one, holding it tightly in his own to the chorus of 'Auld Lang Syne' from the coffee shop's stereo.
Bud Vase
February
Danielle buried her nose in the red rosebud in the vase on the cafe's table. It was lightly scented, her breath mostly catching a sense of something fresh and green.
It was almost Valentine's Day, which meant Logan would probably send her roses. Only the second time in her life she'd ever gotten them — but it was only the second Valentine's in which she'd actually been in a relationship, too. Usually she spent the holiday with girlfriends, or eating chocolate in her apartment while watching sappy movies. But not this year.
I'm dating Logan. I'm in a relationship with him. It was still unbelievable to her because it was so new. Nearly two weeks ago, she had crossed the line with him, going from friend to something more.
Maybe the scent of his aftershave had finally tipped her over the edge. Or the feeling of his cheek, its softness and sandpaper against her skin for a moment's time. Snuggled against him on that sofa, she had felt something undeniable for Logan. Something incredible and irresistible, that she would never have believed if it hadn't been creeping up on her for so long.
No wonder I stomped on the idea of Nina meeting him. I was keeping him like a secret, and I didn't even realize it. Jealous at the thought of anyone else having him without knowing why.
She was going to dry those roses from him and keep them forever. That's how perfect this feeling was, now that she finally let it blossom.
Logan entered Pauline's, glancing to make sure she was there before he crossed the room. "Hi," he said, dropping into the chair across from her. His lopsided grin was different — it had been a little more open and silly ever since New Year's, she noticed.
"Hi yourself," she answered. "So ... do you have it?"
"Of course." He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. "You first," he said, holding it out of reach when she snatched for it.
"No fair! What happened to 'ladies first'?" she demanded.
"You have an advantage in this field already just by letting it happen," he answered. "Give me a break this time." He held out his hand, waiting. With a sigh, Danni pulled the piece of paper from underneath her coffee cup and laid it in his palm.
"Thank you," he said. He handed her the folded slip from his other hand. On the front it was labeled 'First Kiss,' with a date written below. Below that, three choices — 'okay,' 'good,' and 'smoking hot.'
Hmmm, I like my choices, she began to say, then stopped as she read the title over again. "First kiss?" she said. "Don't you mean 'second'? Or even third?" She thought of New Year's Eve in the cafe, where they had definitely come close, even if they hadn't locked lips yet. "If you want to get technical —"
"No, I don't," he said. "First of all, there's no way that little nuzzle counted, since there was barely lip-to-lip contact."
"You kissed me," said Danni.
"Not on the lips, though," he pointed out.
"I practically kissed yours," she retorted.
"You practically breathed on them, you mean. No pressure means no kiss in my book."
"Romantic breathing," she answered. "I was thinking about kissing you, by the way. I wasn't sure how you'd react at the moment."
He hid a smile. "Extremely well," he answered. "I would've kissed you back."
She was pleased to know this. Now she wished she had gone with the moment at midnight, so they would share the memory of a first kiss at the stroke of New Year's itself.
He cleared his throat, pretending to be serious again. "As for the first technically-real kiss — the one outside the French restaurant —"
"The one after our second date," supplied Danni. Her lips formed a smile, remembering it. She hadn't been surprised that he waited to make his move. She had him pegged as a traditional type, and he had proved her right, at least on that front.
"Hardly a kiss. More of a ... a test case," continued Logan, searching
for the right words. Evidently, he didn't find them, because Danni wrinkled her nose in response. "Maybe more of a gentle, exploratory maneuver on our part. That's why I think the last one counts as the first. Agreed?"
"Okay, fine." She lifted a pencil from her purse. "Ready?"
"Ready."
They both made a hasty check on the boxes on their respective slips — Danni had labeled Logan's ballot with 'decent,' 'amazing,' and 'earth shaking.' She tried not to sneak a quick side eye as she made her own selection, then swapped ballots.
"Earth shaking," she said. "Nice."
"I thought it was the right one," he answered, hiding a smile. He noted the box on her ballot. "Hmm. Smoking hot. Maybe a touch understated —" He moved quickly to avoid a swat on the arm from Danni.
"It's not like I knew 'earth shaking' was an option," he reminded her. "But it's nice to know that you felt the passion, too."
"Whatever," said Danni, rolling her eyes. "It was a good kiss. Great, actually."
That much was true. The second time they kissed, outside Danni's apartment, it had been lingering and passionate, no hesitation like the times before. Logan was a good kisser. She had sensed it the first time, and found the second time, when he was sure of her feelings, had left her weak in the knees.
She tucked his ballot in her pocket. "As first second kisses go, I would put it in my top three, easily," she said, making a pretense of being tough on him. "Probably even rank it number two."
"I hate to ask who's above me," he said, sarcastically.
"I have to give first place to my first boyfriend," she said. "Long-term high school crush. Not a great kiss — it's just a sentimental thing."
"Oh, well. I wouldn't want to topple tradition or anything," he answered.
"What about you?" she asked. "Where does it rank for you? Above first kiss? Below your last one?" She tried to seem less curious than she actually was — and failed miserably.
"I checked 'earth shattering' with complete honesty," he answered. "You're at the top. No competition."
The look in his eyes was making her melt a little. "Not even your first kiss?" she asked. "And I'm not talking about you and Candace being tortured beneath the mistletoe."
"That makes for a hideous mental picture when you put it like that," he answered. "No ... my first kiss was with a girl on the playground in the sixth grade. I built myself up to a moment of courage beyond my eleven year-old self for the love of a twelve year-old in pigtails. And I wouldn't repeat that moment until I was nearly seventeen."
"You are so shy that it's adorable."
He blushed deep red. "Don't call it that, please," he begged. "For the last time, Danni —"
She pulled him closer by the lapel of his coat, pressing her lips against his in a gentle kiss. "Promise," she answered.
Even when he wasn't kissing back, he was still good at it. No denying it.
He looked into her eyes. "I wish I had kissed you on New Year's," he said, softly. "I missed the moment, even though I wanted it. I had been thinking about you for a lot longer than I realized," he added. "Like I told you, before Christmas, even."
"I framed the photo of you in the sweater," she answered.
"No. You didn't." He groaned.
"It's adorable. You know it takes more than an ugly sweater to make you unattractive," she said. "I couldn't tell you that before, but I wanted to."
"I wished you were there, actually," he said. "I imagined kissing you under the mistletoe. You know, for the first time."
"I imagined the same thing, afterwards," she said, softly. "Of course, on New Year's, I was about two seconds away from full kissing mode. Pushing you against the nearest wall and planting one on you with enough passion to take your breath away."
"That sounds like something you'd write in your serial stalker note to me," he observed. "Vaguely serial killer of you."
"Thanks," she answered, lifting her cup. "I did mention I'm stalking you now, right?" she asked, before taking a sip.
"I got the memo. And the dead roses, too. Thanks, by the way."
"You're welcome," she answered. "Speaking of roses .…"
"Yeah, what's with the bud vases on the tables? That can't be cheap," said Logan, twirling the stem of the little bud blossom in the glass. "Is there a holiday coming up or something?"
She gave him a look. He grinned at her.
"Any plans for tomorrow night? The fourteenth?" he ventured.
"Yes," she answered. "I'm going out with my boyfriend. So, sorry, I'm not available." It was her turn to grin at him. "But I'm really excited about it. He's such a great guy. Handsome, smart .…"
"Funny?" he suggested.
"Did I mention handsome already?"
"Yeah, I think we're clear on that point."
He cleared his throat. "So I was thinking about Italian. Some place with candles, soft music. A table for two." He glanced at her. "Eight o' clock? I'll pick you up at your place?"
"Sounds perfect," she answered.
Mean Brew
March
Logan was quiet as he sipped his coffee. Whenever Danielle was busy with a manuscript's last pages, he would always wait in silence for her to finish. The same was true when she worked on her — supposedly secret — novel that she pretended he and all her friends were unaware existed on her computer's desktop.
Since she was typing, it was obviously the novel that held her attention. He watched as a little frown played around her lips, and her fingers tapped against the keys impatiently before she found the right word. A few short sentences later, she looked up and smiled.
"Sorry," she said. "I have this project I promised myself I would finish — I thought I had time before you would arrive."
"My meeting ended early," he said. "Super easy to persuade a sports venue to invest in a quick ticket app. Frankly, I'm not even sure why they needed me to demonstrate it."
"Because you're good at what you do," she answered, kissing his cheek. "Want to split a chipotle turkey wrap?"
"Hmm. Lot of spice in that sentence."
"Live a little." She kissed his cheek again.
"Hi, my name is Tiffany, can I interest you in trying one of Pauline's new red velvet coffee cakes?"
The new barista rattled these words off in a single run-on sentence as Danni hastily withdrew from kissing Logan. She smiled. "No, thanks. Just a chipotle turkey wrap — make that two —" she added, glancing at Logan, "and a cup of cocoa, please."
"I'll have an espresso, thanks," said Logan.
"I'll be right back," said Tiffany, with a perky smile. She disappeared in the direction of the front counter once again.
"She's new, right?" said Logan. "What happened to Kevin?"
"I think he's working at an espresso bar near Saks," said Danni. "I spotted somebody who looked like him when I was there last. Gabby and I went for coffee after she got her nails done for the wedding rehearsal."
"Ah, Gabby. Has she ever forgiven me for not asking Nina out?"
"Come on," Danni rolled her eyes. "She would have passed you to every single friend in my social pool rather than let someone like you get away. She's not surprised that I'm dating you. Just surprised I managed to keep you hidden away for so long."
"Here you go." Tiffany set two wraps on the table, and two beverages. "Anything else?"
"That's it," said Logan.
"Great. I'll be back with your check in a bit. Enjoy."
Logan took a bite from his sandwich. "Sheesh, it's like eating fire," he said, coughing. "I think their rub is pure red pepper and nothing else."
"It's not bad," said Danni, swallowing a bite from her own. "It's mild compared to the chicken I had at that new Columbian grill across town."
Where you had a plain steak and nothing with the words 'spicy' anywhere near it, he imagined her saying.
He pulled the slices of turkey from between his pita layers, setting them aside on the plate. "What are you doing?" Danni asked. "That's the best part."
"That
's the part that will eat a hole through my stomach," he said. "My doctor told me to lay off spicy things whenever possible for the sake of my ulcer."
"I thought your doctor wasn't sure it was an ulcer," she said. "That maybe it was just another acid reflux episode, like the ones you had when you were so stressed last year."
"Maybe. But he doesn't know, so I'm playing it safe," answered Logan. He pretended not to see Danni roll her eyes. No doubt she was remembering that he generally avoided advice from his physician, along with any visit besides the necessary physical once a year.
He rolled his sandwich closed around the boiled egg and lettuce. "You voted today," he said, pointing at the sticker on her sweater. It was for the runoff election held this week, a mini image of City Hall beneath the words 'I Voted' — probably a gimmick to promote awareness of civic offices and runoffs.
"I did," she answered, displaying it proudly.
"So did I," he said. "What time were you at the polls?"
"Ten A.M."
"Mmm. Missed me by a mile then. I was there at eight."
"What a shame," said Danni. "We could have bumped into each other. Shared our support for Councilman Nistle's upcoming win."
"You voted for Nistle?" he asked.
"Sure," she said. "What — you voted for Fingleman?"
"Yes," he scoffed. "I wasn't going to vote for somebody who actually wants to farm out our water supply contract to a neighboring state — one with a worse record for water cleanliness and discretionary spending than our own —"
"What's all this about the water systems?" asked Danni, incredulously. "The whole point of the election was the issue over Fingleman's relationship with the mayor."
"Yeah, a connection nobody proved," said Logan, looking amused. "It was just a ruse to set up Nistle for a chance to overturn a popular councilman. It was a political spin story, Danni."
"Based on what?" she asked.
"On everything. Don't you read the news?" he asked. "The local headlines?"
Ah, but you don't, he thought, triumphantly; not that he would say it aloud. All of Danni's apps on her phone and tablet were for buying movie tickets or tracking packages or downloading books. None of them were for serious websites, for news or government resources.
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