Be My Friday Night (8 page)

He met her where she stood, his coat was on, and his eyes hard to read.

The walk back to her and Layla’s place was quiet. Sam’s seventeen-year-old self was jumping for joy for lip locking with the older, hotter Otto Harrison, while simultaneously yelling at her for not being the hell out of Grover.

“You enjoyed going to a school board meeting at town hall. I think there might be something wrong with you,” her younger version said, genuinely concerned.

“But you just kissed Otto Harrison, and now I really hope you have sex with him, as soon as possible,” seventeen-year-old Sam said. She was as much of a contradiction as twenty-nine-year-old Sam.

Sam couldn’t help but grin. She enjoyed blowing her younger self’s mind.

The problem in the present was she’d loved sitting next to Otto at the meeting tonight, and she loved walking next to him in the crisp fall air. She had a hard time keeping her eyes off him with his stride and the way his broad shoulders hunched a bit against the wind. She attempted to give him quick, discreet glances.

“Here we are,” said Otto.

Sam turned to face her bungalow. The little wooden house snuggled into the ground. She couldn’t help but love it too. Tonight, everything was love. She especially couldn’t help but love this strangely crazy but cozy moment she was in.

“Yeah,” Sam’s response was almost in a whisper.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” said Otto.

Sam laughed.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to quit and run off with the school principal,” said Sam. Her eyes widened and stomach clenched as soon as she said it. She wanted to dash into her house as soon as possible. Her mouth was getting her in trouble again.

To her surprise, Otto laughed. He turned toward her.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” he said.

Before she knew what she was doing, Sam grabbed the front of Otto’s shirt collar and pulled him forward into another kiss.

Otto obliged, drawing her into his coat. She may have started the kiss, but he kissed her long and hard to let her know he was the one who was going to finish it.

She began to feel airy and lighter. She couldn’t help but grin into the kiss. She hadn’t known such a thing was possible.

Seventeen-year-old Sam was going wild in the background.

“Okay, that’s enough you two,” Holly’s voice called from the porch.

Sam and Otto jolted in surprise, mid-kiss. Their eyes met and they could only laugh at being found out. Sam caught a case of incontrollable giggles.

“Don’t laugh. This isn’t funny. No one’s getting knocked up on my front steps tonight,” Holly called out dryly.

“Those aren’t your front steps,” Sam called back.

“What are you talking about? Get in here,” said Holly.

Sam gave Holly a sideways look, Layla’s attitude was rubbing off on her. Sam never thought such a moment would come to fruition. She looked back to Otto.

“Excuse my friend. She’s the new resident cat lady,” said Sam, trying hard to contain her giggles.

“And busybody,” Holly called out.

Otto gave a jolly wave to Holly. He seemed to enjoy every second of having been caught.

“Goodnight,” said Otto. Holly’s razzing only seemed to encourage him. He reached in for another kiss. This one was followed by wooing from both Holly and Layla, who had come and joined Holly on the porch.

Sam whispered goodnight in response. She walked toward her friends on the porch.

“What just happened?” Sam asked the two of them when she reached the foot of the stairs. She slowly began scaling each step. Her whole body was tired, yet energized, and each atom of her being ached with the exhilaration of her night.

“You’re back, thank God. You’re back to being the kind of trouble this town needs,” said Holly. She raised her hand above her head to high five Layla.

Sam walked into the house, ready to crash into her bed, and fall asleep with thoughts of the night. She could contemplate being trouble tomorrow.

* * *

T
he morning brought
Sam still wandering in a glittery haze from the previous night's escapades. There was a tiny amount of dread following her around as well. The possibility of rejection from Otto was trailing her as a witchy shadow. Maybe he’d realized sometime between kissing her goodnight and getting ready for work he’d made a terrible mistake. Sam wouldn’t be completely surprised if Otto came into work in a bumbling state of avoidance.

Sam quietly snuck into her chair that morning. She was uneasy that Otto wasn't already at work in his office. She rested her head on her desk replaying the scene from last night.

No.

She shook her head. She let her forehead rub against the wood. No, Sam was fine. She had to believe she was enough. There was a little voice inside her telling Sam things had gone wonderfully, and a bigger, scarier voice continuously squishing the smaller one. It told her that her feelings were all in her head, and Otto had only kissed her because he could. She knew the small voice spoke the truth. It was just harder to listen to.

Sam heard Otto’s footsteps approach her desk. She felt his energy shooting off his body. It was frenetic, and made worse by the fact he was trying to rein it in for work. It was hot, and she didn’t need to see him to know it was there.

She looked up. He appeared stiff, agitated. Yet he watched her with a new knowing in his eyes. Sam couldn’t help but grin at him. This, whatever it was, was going to be okay.

“Hey boss, is there something I can do for you?” Sam said. Holly and Layla’s words from the previous night rose to the front of her mind. She was back to being trouble.

“I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner again tonight,” said Otto.

Sam paused. She let the small moment soak in. She nodded.

“That sounds great,” she said, trying to sound as calm as possible.

Otto nodded at her. He walked toward his office.

Sam stood to make coffee in the kitchenette. She did a short but joyous victory dance as soon as Otto closed his office door.

* * *

T
he week continued
with many sidelong glances, excuses for small talk, and cozy coffee breaks, either with Sam sitting in Otto’s office, or Otto making himself comfortable in a chair by Sam’s desk.

At night they snuck away for dinner. One night, to Otto’s amusement, Sam lit candles around Otto’s living room, and the two of them enjoyed a bottle of wine and piping hot pizza Otto had thrown himself while watching
The Princess Bride
.

Another night they talked over old country music in Otto’s fading pickup truck as he drove Sam into the city. He took her to one of San Diego’s hip neighborhood’s newest restaurants, recommended by Zelda. They sat in a corner booth made for two on the back patio by the outdoor fireplace.

Otto also introduced Sam to his yacht,
Jane
, which was smaller than Sam had anticipated. On the drive over to the bay she’d had visions of Otto seducing her in the cabin. Upon stepping into the yacht all Sam could think about was the possibility of tipping the tiny boat and falling into the dark water. She was also struck by the name.

“I still can’t believe you named your boat after Jane Austen,” said Sam.

“Well Lady Jane was taken,” said Otto. He walked around the boat, checking knots, examining sails. They weren’t going anywhere, and Sam enjoyed watching how he still tended to the boat with the upmost care.

Sam shook her head.

“No, that you named your boat after her in the first place. Is it a ploy to get girls on to your boat?” she said. She teetered along the deck, determined to get her footing.

“Zelda always had a tattered set of paperbacks of the works of Jane Austen. One summer I teased her about reading them, and she told me that I was much more likely to get laid if I read Austen’s works,” he said.

Sam laughed into the night wind.

“So I take it you dove in?” she said.

“Finished
Pride and Prejudice
in just a little under a week.We had a conversation about it around the time I finished,” he said, watching her.

“We did?” said Sam. She frantically searched her memory.

Otto nodded.

“You said you thought Mr. Darcy was a pain in the ass, and not worth the time Lizzy gives him,” he said.

Sam gulped. Otto was looking good in the wind, and the man wanted to talk about Mr. Darcy.

“He’s cranky and moody. What woman needs that?” she said. The conversation was coming back to her.

“Maybe he’s cranky and moody because Lizzy sets him off,” said Otto.

Sam shrugged.

“Maybe, but I get the feeling it’s just kind of the way he is, you know, privileged,” she said. She watched Otto to see if she’d gotten a rise out of him.

Otto didn’t flinch. Instead he met her eyes. His look told her he wasn’t taking the bait.

“Lizzy’s smart. She knows what she wants. Why does she fall for Darcy at all then?” he said.

“Well there’s Pemberley. She sees how well he fits into that environment, and she loves that he fits somewhere, and then she starts imagining how she could fit there too, how she could make it her own. I used to think of it as her being kind of materialistic, but now I get it. It’s very sexy when a man gives you a space where you can be yourself,” Sam said. She looked out to the dark ocean. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Otto. The words she’d been speaking had been urgent yet hard to say at the same time. She knew they rang true for Lizzy and for her.

Otto didn’t say anything. The silence made Sam’s stomach turn. She couldn’t sit with it. Words tumbled out of her mouth.

“Also, obviously Darcy and Lizzy were going to be amazing in bed, and when it all comes down to it, that’s the most important, if not right there in the top three,” she said.

“Why would it be in the top three?” said Otto. He had somehow moved closer to her. Sam's stomach continued to flutter, but she stood her ground.

“Well, the tension was there really from the beginning. The mutual respect and caring came through later,” she said. She could feel him standing right next to her. What was she doing? She was supposed to be having a fling. You did not have conversations like this with someone you were having a fling with you had sex.

“That’s a tall order,” said Otto.

Sam looked up at him, worried he’d read her mind, and realizing he was referring to her thoughts on Lizzy and Darcy.

“Well, you were smart to listen to your aunt,” said Sam.

Otto grinned and pulled Sam close. She couldn't help but pout.

“What’s wrong? You were the same way after we had this conversation the first time around,” he said. Sam perked up to the fact that Otto remembered how she'd reacted to their conversation years ago. Back then, she was probably in angst over the fact that he really just wanted to talk Lizzy and Darcy, and there was nothing more to it.

Sam rested her forehead on his chest. She let out a long sigh. The scheming was over. She obviously had never been very good at it. Otto was the last person anyone should ever pick for a fling.

“Lizzy wants the best thing for herself; she doesn’t settle. I love that about her. She also doesn’t like change, and I get that,” she said.

Otto kissed her. The cold wind swirled around them making his warm mouth taste sharper, and sweeter. He pulled away and left Sam yearning for more.

“I really love it when you’re honest, when the sarcasm goes away,” he said. The vulnerably in his voice made Sam’s heart hurt a little.

“I’m never sarcastic,” she said. She wanted to smack her forehead. There she went, putting her guard back in place.

Otto raised an eyebrow in response. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and began to kiss her again.

Practice
, she told herself. The kissing came easy. Other things would take some practice.