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“Yeah?”
“Yeah. My grant has been moved to the next step.”
“The one you had been working at for months?”
“Yeah.” A question flittered across her eyes like she thought about being humble about the news and decided against it. “It’s actually a really big deal. At the next step, we’re basically being asked to prove we can do what we say we’re going to do. If we prove that—and we will—we get the money. So basically it’s a yes. Or will be a yes in a couple more months.”
He broke into a big smile, both genuinely excited for her and happy to see her excitement. “That’s awesome.”
“I know.” She leaned her head against the back of her chair. “I’m so glad you came in. I mean, I was excited by the email, of course, but even working on the forms didn’t make it feel real. Telling you has made it real.”
“You should celebrate. Come out with me. I’ll take you for a drink. Or dinner. Or dancing. Whatever you want. It’s your night. You get to pick.”
She gave one quick glance to her computer as she stood. “I should celebrate. I was going to work on the forms and evidence we need to turn in, but I’d rather go out with you.”
She giggled, a noise he wasn’t sure he’d heard from her before, outside of the night she’d shocked him completely by playing fifteen different parts and taking all his friends’ money at poker. This giggle was less calculated, but not innocent. To his surprise, she sounded both giddy and guilty.
“I canceled a date tonight. I told him that I had work I needed to get done before Monday. The forms aren’t due until May, but I didn’t want to celebrate with some stranger. Better to share the news with a friend.”
“How do you know he wasn’t the one?” he asked, somewhere between joking and jealous. He hadn’t been on a date in…well, it was his longest dateless stretch since he’d decided to try online dating. He looked at profiles, but none of them compared to Marsie.
And wasn’t that a kicker.
“Oh.” She waved away his comment. Up close, her eyes practically glowed with pride. “I doubt he was. I mean, this was a date I set up before I decided to rework my algorithm again. I’ve reworked it a couple of times, but so far, the results haven’t been what I want them to be. Maybe I’ll do that this weekend.”
It wasn’t the answer he’d wanted, but he’d asked. And they’d made a deal to support each other’s online dating. If he wasn’t actually dating anyone—online or offline—that wasn’t her fault.
“Well, until then, let’s get you a drink. We won’t worry about that guy. He doesn’t know you well enough to properly celebrate with you.”
“You know, that’s what I said to myself. In fact, I used almost those exact same words.” She giggled again. “Great minds, I guess.”
She was standing in front of him glowing. If joy had energy, hers would be pushing against her usual button-down—today’s was a vibrant purple—and possibly popping the seams of her slim khaki skirt. Her thrill of success expanded to surround them both, making it seem as if the office building was lit from fireworks, rather than dark and empty.
He couldn’t believe that he’d once wondered if she was uptight and maybe a little boring. He’d been an idiot.
“Let me give you a celebratory hug before we go out.” She looked like she could use two, to ground her before driving, and he wanted to feel her delight buzz against him, to share some part of her success.
He opened his arms and she almost leaped into them, squeezing him as hard as he squeezed her. “I’m so happy,” she said, her breath warm on his neck. They were about the same height, which meant that she tucked right against his head as her breasts were pressed against his chest and her crotch level with his.
Her hair smelled good, like he had always imagined it would. Slightly musky and woodsy. Nothing floral for Marsie. She was no delicate flower. His Marsie was all strength and height and power, reaching to the sky.
She wasn’t loosening her hold on him, so he didn’t loosen his, either. Instead, he leaned his head closer to her hair and pressed a kiss against her head. Her hair was silky against his cheek. She was as smooth as he’d imagined.
