So I put away all thoughts of last night and instead launch my energy into my day job.
It ends up being a crazy busy day. Even though it's still a weekday, the café has a constant stream of people from the very moment we open. I deal with needy customers, brand new servers, a shipment delivery, and a cook in the middle of a heartbreak-induced meltdown. I'd like to say it's an uncharacteristically chaotic day, but I'd be lying.
I lock the front doors with a big sigh, leaning my forehead against the dark wood for a moment while I collect myself.
My phone rings, and I dig it out of my back pocket. Without glancing at the caller ID, I answer, "Hi, this is Hailey."
"Hi," comes Steve's voice through the line.
I immediately stiffen as all my nervous energy comes back from our interaction this morning. I can never tell how long he's going to be angry with me or when he's going to just magically forgive me and go back to being the man who loves me.
"Hi," I say hesitantly.
"Are you done at work?"
I turn back to the empty café as I answer. "Yeah, I just locked up. I'm leaving in a minute."
"Okay, I was just calling to see if you wanted me to pick you up. I'm leaving the office now."
I nibble on my lip, unable to decipher how he’s feeling right now. There have been plenty of times where he's done something thoughtful or kind, even though we were fighting.
"Yeah, that would be nice," I answer with caution. "I'll come outside in fifteen minutes."
"Okay, I'll see you then."
The phone call ends without any kind of goodbye. For the next fifteen minutes, I alternate between nervously pacing the café and occupying my hands with unnecessary busy work.
I hate feeling like I'm in limbo like this. I find myself wishing for the hundredth time that we could've just talked about our fight last night—or even this morning—so that neither of us had to stress about it for an extra second. I'd rather just deal with it and move on.
I feel like a fizzing soda bottle by the time I see Steve's car pull up. I'm so restless that I trip on the sidewalk as I make my way around the car to the passenger side.
Sliding into the seat while clutching my bag to my stomach, I shoot a nervous glance at Steve, then turn my focus to my lap. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing actually gets the chance to come out.
I feel Steve's fingers curl around my chin, pulling gently so that I'm now facing him. I stare at his warm smile, his happy expression, with amazement. But I only get to look for a moment because he then tugs me toward him so he can capture my lips with his.
The kiss feels impossibly sweet, seeming to convey his love for me. I don't know if I kiss him back, because that sensation is currently a shock to my system after everything that's happened. But when the kiss becomes passionate, when I suddenly feel Steve's hunger for me, I let a moan slip out as I open my mouth to him and surrender completely.
We're both breathing heavily when we break apart. "I missed you so much," he groans against my lips, leaning his forehead against mine. "Let's go on a date tonight. I want to take you out."
I pull away with a look of surprise. "Tonight? Where?"
He pulls me back, as if he can't bear to be any farther away from me than is absolutely necessary. "I don't care, you pick the restaurant. I just want to be with you. I want us to spend time together."
A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. I love when he gets all needy for my company. "Umm, okay. Let's try that new tapas restaurant on East Passyunk."
He smiles and presses a light kiss to my lips. "Okay," he agrees, taking my hand in his as he turns back to the road.
The entire drive home, he doesn't let go of my hand and the smile doesn't leave his face. But even with the happy butterflies erupting in my stomach, there's a nagging feeling in my subconscious that's trying to remind me that he didn't actually apologize for freaking out over nothing. That we’re—yet again—riding what feels like a wave of constant highs and lows, of love and conflict.
But he's so happy and so eager to touch me, to kiss me, while I get ready for our date, that those feelings quickly fly out the window.
* * *
The weekend passes by in a blur of smiles, kisses, and laughter. Even though he often works on weekends, Steve made it a point to put his laptop away and sweep me into the bedroom as soon as he got home on Friday afternoon. And after licking me to orgasm, he announced that we were going to spend the weekend together in our apartment.
It reminds me of when we first started dating. We talk, we joke, we order takeout, we watch crime shows. My heart sings from the closeness because I can't remember the last time we spent time like this, just enjoying each other's company.
"If I went to jail, what would it be for?" I ask with a grin, reaching for another churro from our Mexican takeout.