Just a touch away, p.16
Just a Touch Away, page 16
“Please be honest with me—and with yourself—and answer just one question.”
Winter folded her arms across her chest and eyed her warily. “One question and then you’ll let this go?”
Hannah nodded. “I promise.”
“All right. Ask your question.”
The elevator slid to a stop at the basement level.
As soon as the door opened, Hannah pressed the button for the top floor without looking away from Winter. “Why did you book a cuddle session with me?”
Only the hum of the elevator carrying them back to the fourth floor interrupted the silence. Winter’s head spun, and she was fairly sure it wasn’t from the back-and-forth of the elevator. She hadn’t expected this question. Should she lie and make up another reason that would sound halfway plausible? It seemed a lot safer than telling the truth.
Hannah regarded her steadily. The look in her eyes was warm and without judgment or distrust, even after Winter had practically ambushed her during their cuddle session, then refused to talk about it.
Amazing. Winter didn’t get how Hannah could face the world with such openness, but, deep down, she couldn’t help admiring her. Did she really want to reward that friendliness and compassion with a lie?
No, Winter decided. She already felt bad enough about that near kiss; she didn’t want to add to it. Hannah deserved better.
Shit. Since when did she care about other people’s feelings?
“I did it because Brooke dared me to,” she said before she could talk herself out of it.
Hannah stared at her as if that was the last thing she had expected. “She dared you to?”
Winter rubbed her neck. If you said it out loud, it sounded pretty immature, didn’t it? “We have a very complicated relationship.”
Once again, the elevator door slid open on the top floor, and this time, Hannah prevented it from closing by blocking it with her body instead of hitting the button for the basement again. “I gathered that,” she murmured. “Why would she dare you to book a session with me?”
“She said she wanted to see if your story checks out—about you being who you say you are, in regard to Julian.”
Hannah pressed a tightly fisted hand to her chest as if Winter’s words had physically hurt her. “Wait! You…you thought I was lying about being a professional cuddler and him being my client? Or that I somehow tricked Jules into gifting me half of the building?”
“No!” Winter rushed to say. “I mean, maybe that’s what I thought at first. I couldn’t imagine Julian cuddling up to anyone. Still can’t, to be honest.”
“Well, he did!”
Winter lifted her hands. “I know. I’m not saying you’re lying. I just… That’s not the man I knew. In forty years, he never hugged me. Not once.” Shit. She hadn’t meant to tell her that sob story and have Hannah feel bad for her. “Anyway, that’s not why I booked the session. It’s not even the real reason why Brooke dared me to. That had nothing to do with you and everything to do with her and me.”
Hannah frowned. “I don’t get what you mean.”
“Brooke knows I’m not the cuddly type. She didn’t think I would go through with attending a cuddle session. Even if I did, she assumed it would make things between you and me so awkward that one of us would move out sooner or later…and she would inherit half of the building.”
Hannah slumped against the side of the open elevator door. “Jesus! That’s fucked-up.”
Winter shrugged. “I suppose it is, but I should have expected it. It has always been like that.”
“Why is there so much bad blood between the two of you? I mean, you are sisters! I can’t imagine doing something like that to one of my siblings. Is it because Jules and your mother…um…?”
Winter knew what she was asking. She tried to play it cool. “So you figured out that he cheated on Brooke’s mother with mine, huh?”
“Not hard to do, with you being half sisters and about the same age. I just didn’t want to put my finger into old wounds, so I didn’t say anything.”
Winter let out a huff. “It’s not a wound. I don’t care if she hates me. I couldn’t care less about her either.”
“Bullshit.” Hannah’s gentle tone contradicted her blunt answer.
“Are we starting up the bullshit game again?”
“Just calling it as I see it. If you didn’t care about your sister at all, why would it bother you to let her think you can’t make it through a cuddle session? And don’t tell me it didn’t. Why else would you have accepted the dare?”
“Because I’m sick of her always coming out as the winner, the golden child who can do no wrong, while I’m the unwanted result of an affair with his secretary.” Winter bit the inside of her cheek so hard that the coppery taste of blood coated her tongue. Why the hell did she keep telling Hannah stuff she had never told anyone?
Hannah stepped away from where she had held the door open with her body, now fully back inside the elevator. She paused in front of Winter without touching her, even though Winter could tell she was itching to reach out for a comforting pat or squeeze. “I’m really sorry he made you feel that way.”
Her genuine compassion threatened to pierce the armor of indifference Winter had cultivated over the years. She brushed it off with a swipe of her hand. No use crying over spilled milk. Her Apple Watch beeped with a reminder she had set earlier, offering a much-needed escape. “If we don’t hurry up, we’ll be late for our own welcome party.”
Now that Hannah was no longer blocking the door with her body, it slid shut, and Winter quickly reached around her and pressed the button for the basement, eager to escape this situation.
The elevator started to move with a loud hum that covered the silence between them.
Winter knew she could have ended the conversation here, and Hannah would probably be willing to let it go. But the unsaid words sat like a handful of stones at the bottom of her stomach. “Speaking of being sorry… I shouldn’t have done what I did.” She stared at her gleaming Italian dress shoes, then forced herself to glance into Hannah’s eyes. “Try to kiss you, I mean. That wasn’t okay, and I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that,” Hannah said. “But next time, please don’t refuse to talk to me for days or force me to hunt you down in an elevator.”
“Like I just said, there won’t be a next time.”
Hannah gazed back at her with an expression Winter couldn’t interpret. Finally, she nodded. “All right.”
The elevator door slid open in the basement.
“So,” Winter said when Hannah turned and stepped out, “are we okay?” The fact that there even was a we made her pause for a moment before she followed Hannah out of the elevator.
Hannah stopped and turned toward her. “Are you asking because you don’t want Brooke to win?”
“Yeah,” Winter said. “She shouldn’t get away with manipulative shit like that.”
“Agreed.” Hannah nodded, but her full lips—lips that Winter should stop looking at—compressed the tiniest bit before she whirled away and strode toward the community room.
Had that frank answer hurt her feelings?
Damn. Brooke was right. Social etiquette wasn’t her forte.
“And,” Winter called after her, “because I really want us to be okay.” Um, that sounded much too cozy. “I mean, I’d hate to wake up one morning and find Folgers beans in my espresso machine.”
Hannah laughed. “So you did hear me.”
“I was working,” Winter said.
“Sure you were—working on an excuse for why you tried to kiss me.”
Someone cleared their throat behind them.
Great. Whoever it was, they had probably overheard what Hannah had said. Winter pinched the bridge of her nose, then put on her best poker face and turned around.
Of course it had to be Heather. She held a giant covered bowl in her hands and had an even bigger grin on her face.
“What?” Winter leveled her with a warning glare.
“Oh, nothing. Just glad to hear my future landladies are getting along so well.” Heather chuckled. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to everyone you haven’t already met.”
Sighing, Winter let her lead the way to the community room.
* * *
When the elevator door closed behind them, Hannah and Winter slumped against the metal walls and audibly blew out twin breaths.
Winter glanced over at her. “Why do you sound so relieved? You were great at that”—she swirled her index finger—“mingling thing. The tenants all clearly loved you.”
Did they? It felt great to hear Winter acknowledge that. Hannah had chatted with each of the tenants at some point during the evening, and they all seemed like good people. “I had a really nice time. I love spending time with people, but afterward, I always love coming back home too, especially after big parties like this. My brain can’t keep up with all the new faces.”
Winter hummed her agreement. “Yeah, they better not expect an annual holiday party or something like that.”
Hannah moved her arm to nudge her with an elbow, then paused. She had always been a naturally tactile person, and she tended to incorporate casual little touches into a conversation without thinking much of it. Her friends and most of her clients loved it, but with Winter, she really needed to cut it out. If their aborted cuddle session had shown her one thing, it was how uncomfortable Winter was with any physical contact.
She dropped her arm back down. “Oh, come on. Don’t pretend you don’t have any social skills.”
“I never said that. My social skill is intimidating folks to stay the hell away from me.”
Hannah grinned. “Yeah, clearly, Mrs. Kline was so intimidated by you, she was shaking in her Crocs. That’s why she clung to your arm most of the night and kept heaping food onto your plate. I swear, she has a crush on you!” While she had chatted with other tenants, she had kept glancing over at Winter and their oldest tenant. Winter had her professional mask up with everyone else, but there had been a gentleness in her eyes as she had leaned over so Mrs. Kline could hear her better over the din of conversation.
“Bullshit!” Winter said. “The woman is eighty-five! She does not have a crush on me.”
“That word and elevators… If we’re not careful, that’ll really become our thing. And just for the record, there’s no age limit on crushes. I intend to still be head over heels for my husband or wife when I’m eighty-five.”
Winter groaned. “Of course you would be a starry-eyed romantic. Figures.”
The elevator arrived at the top floor, and they got out.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Of course, Hannah already knew what she meant, but it was fun to verbally spar with Winter. After five days of frosty silence, any conversation between them was a relief.
Winter unlocked their front door and held it open for Hannah to enter first. “Nothing,” she said as she followed her in. “It just fits that whole cuddles-will-heal-you Zen thing you’ve got going on.”
“Speaking of my cuddles-will-heal-you thing… I have an outcall tomorrow morning, so I’d better go to bed,” Hannah said.
“All right. Good night.”
“Good night.” As Hannah paused in front of her bedroom door, Winter kept walking toward her own room. “Oh, Winter?”
Winter stopped and glanced back in her direction, eyebrows raised in a half curious, half wary expression. “Yeah?”
“I’d better not find that hundred-dollar bill in my mug again tomorrow morning.”
Winter turned to fully face her. “Come on. You earned that money fair and square.”
“No, I didn’t. That session wasn’t up to my usual standards. I started it all wrong, and it went downhill from there. I would feel guilty if I accepted any money for it.”
“Christ, and you say I’m the stubborn one!” A low growl drifted through the hall. “All right. I won’t put the money in your mug.”
“Or anywhere else,” Hannah added.
“Fine, or anywhere else,” Winter repeated. “No money will change hands. Happy now?”
Hannah nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
It was only when the door clicked shut behind Winter that Hannah realized how carefully she had phrased it. No money would change hands…which didn’t rule out Winter trying to pay her for the session in other, non-monetary ways.
Oh God. Knowing Winter, she would show up with a hundred dollars’ worth of cacti to decorate the den.
Chapter 15
A few days later, Hannah lay stretched out on the couch in the living room and tried to turn the page of her romance novel with one hand while reaching for a piece of chocolate with the other. Her gaze remained fixed on the book as she popped a dark-chocolate-and-raspberry square into her mouth.
The novel was Write for Her by Kim Hartfield. In this scene, the main characters, a successful writer and a coffee shop owner who hated reading, were digging into the mystery of why the latter yawned through every book she tried to read.
Hannah didn’t get it either. She had always loved getting lost in the pages of a good book, especially a romance. How could anyone not enjoy that?
Finally, the two characters found the explanation.
The book dropped onto her belly, and Hannah nearly choked on the piece of chocolate melting in her mouth. Holy crap! The coffee shop owner had aphantasia!
The events described in a book didn’t unfold like a movie in her mind, and that was why reading didn’t capture her interest.
Hannah didn’t get that inner movie either, which was why she avoided books filled with lengthy descriptions of scenery, but for her, that didn’t mean she couldn’t get lost in fictional worlds. She read for the emotions first and foremost.
But wow! It was so cool to find someone with aphantasia in a book, even if they didn’t enjoy reading as much as she did. She had never come across an aphantasic character in any book, movie, or TV show, which was probably the reason it had taken her nearly three decades to figure out her brain worked differently and that other people weren’t merely using metaphors when they talked about mental images or picturing things.
Hannah sat up and reread the paragraph, just for the enjoyment of seeing her own experience reflected in a book. She clutched the novel with both hands and bounced up and down on the couch. “Yes, yes, yes!”
“Um, do you have a minute, or should I come back later?” came Winter’s voice from the doorway.
Hannah dropped the book as if she had been caught reading porn.
Winter leaned in the doorway, her laptop under one arm and an amused twinkle in her eyes.
“No, come on in.” Hannah picked up the book and put it on the coffee table.
It had been five days since their conversation in the elevator, and while Winter had stopped avoiding her, she also hadn’t gone out of her way to talk to Hannah, as if she still didn’t quite know what to say to her after the way their cuddle session had ended. This was the first time she had searched Hannah out.
Winter perched on the other end of the couch and eyed the novel. “Must be a more exciting read than the book on permission marketing that is waiting on my reading app right now.”
“Definitely. You can borrow it once I’ve finished, if you want.”
“No, thanks.” Winter all but wrinkled her nose. “Romance isn’t my thing.”
Was she just talking about romance novels or about romantic relationships too? Not that it mattered because Winter so wasn’t her type, even though she was undeniably hot. Hannah cleared her throat. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“More like the other way around. First…” Winter handed Hannah a neon yellow object.
It was a stack of sticky notes. She stared at them. Why was Winter giving her sticky notes?
“You said you were running out,” Winter said.
Hannah remembered the notes they had left each other in the kitchen last week, when they hadn’t been talking. She burst out laughing. “Thanks, but I hope that doesn’t mean you want to go back to sticky note conversations.”
“No. Just paying a debt. And I wanted to show you this.” Winter slid closer on the couch, opened her laptop, and handed it over.
Hannah settled it on her thighs.
The browser was open, displaying a website. A banner showed a picture of a fully dressed couple cuddling. The menu was in a soft mango tone—one of Hannah’s favorite colors—and the menu items included cuddle rules, about your cuddler, and book a session. It was a beautiful website, modern yet inviting, and Hannah had never seen it before, even though she knew or had at least heard of most professional cuddlers, not only in Portland but also in other cities.
“Are you checking out the competition?” Hannah chuckled. “I didn’t think you would be interested in booking another session with a pro cuddler.”
If Winter had been Catholic, she probably would have made the sign of the cross. “I’m not. This is your website.”
Hannah shook her head. “I don’t have a website.”
“Exactly. That’s why I built you one.”
Hannah stared at the laptop, then at Winter. “You built me a website? Just like that?”
“I still owe you a hundred bucks, and I promised no money would change hands, so…”
A website was way better than a bunch of cacti, but it had to be the result of hours if not days of work, and Winter’s hourly rate was no doubt much higher than her own. “First of all, I charge eighty dollars for a cuddle session, not a hundred. Second, you don’t owe me anything. And even if you did, this is not an eighty-dollar or even a hundred-dollar website.”
“Sure it is,” Winter said. “It’s very basic, without any need for subsections.”
Hannah clicked around. The website might be basic in Winter’s eyes, but Winter had clearly done her homework and looked at other professional cuddlers’ sites before designing Hannah’s. She had included an FAQ page, a contact form, and room for testimonials. Hannah clicked on a menu item that said About your cuddler.
“Don’t worry,” Winter said. “It’s on localhost, so it’s not live yet. You’ll have to buy a domain name, pick a web hosting service, and replace the Lorem ipsum.”
