One kiss was as far as you let it go. One amazing kiss, you might add. But you didn't want the two of you to get caught up in something you weren't ready for.
Physically, your body was ready the second you saw Laura in her NYU pullover and fuzzy socks, but emotionally, you wanted to take things slow and do this the right way. You had a feeling she wasn't going to be just another one of your weekend things. You saw the two of you in her kitchen more often, maybe even in your kitchen, maybe on a walk in the park and afterwards a picnic. The thought grounded you, forcing your hands to land on her hips and gently push back, no matter how much the rest of your body and your mouth protested.
You could picture a future with Laura and yeah maybe it was only the first time the two of you hung out together without a coffee shop full of patrons or a rooftop crowded with so many upper east siders that you couldn't breathe without the person next to you immediately knowing what you had for breakfast, but you figured there would be plenty of time and plenty more opportunities to finish what you both so clearly wanted. Laura was fun and real, down to earth, and nothing like the women in your life before her and it was refreshing. You wanted more. Maybe not relationship more, not yet anyway, but you were excited to see where this went.
Laura removed her lips from yours with what you would call nothing short of a whimper and it looked like it took everything in her not to lean back in for a third round. If you were being completely honest, it was just as hard for you, to stand there holding her back.
When you opened your eyes, you found hers still closed, her chest rising and falling with the exertion of someone who had just ran a mile. Her lips were swollen and pink and there were cookie crumbs stuck to her jaw and her cheeks from where you had held her face in your hands. You didn't even try to hide the bubble of laughter that snuck its way up and out of your throat. You couldn't help it, you were happy.
The sudden burst caused Laura to open her eyes, leaving you staring into wine-hazed irises and blown pupils. You were sure yours weren't much different. Still smiling stupid, you reached up to gently brush the crumbs away with your thumb. They fell away easily, landing messily all over the kitchen floor and getting stuck to the fabric of Laura's shirt, but she didn't seem to mind because once she realized what you were doing, she started giggling. And then she was leaning forward, her body falling into yours, her arms wrapped around your waist, her head fell to rest just over where your heart was beating out her name in its own tongue. And you couldn't blame it really, not when your brain was filled with nothing more than the same.
"I think we had too much wine," she murmured into your t-shirt, voice soft, content. You chuckled and gasped in mock offence.
"Blasphemy! There is no such thing, I assure you." Laura pulled back with a genuine smile on her face, her eyes first falling to your lips before trailing up to find your gaze.
"No?" She questioned, eyes briefly flicking to your lips once more.
When you leaned down the few inches to her lips and closed the distance between, it was more her fault than yours. You were just doing her a favor of sorts. It was short, nothing more than a second or two, but she chased your lips regardless once you pulled back, your forehead against hers, eyes still closed, to whisper, "You can never have enough wine, cutie."
"Good to know…" Laura pulled away that time, with a hand to your chest as she took a step backward and cleared her throat, blushing. "So, how 'bout that cheesecake?" You smirked.
It was a sad attempt at deflection, but you played along. You did pull away first.
"Coming right up."
You finished making the cheesecake and ate the dessert sat on the couch in front of the TV, stealing bites from the other's bowl, not at all paying attention to whatever movie was playing in the background. There were no more stolen kisses as the night progressed, just heated glances and poor excuses to at least be touching the other in some way. At one point, it was your left thigh against her right, her legs draped over your lap, her fingers tracing the lines in your palm, her head on your shoulder. You filled the silence by telling her more about your job, your hobbies, your stint at Yale, your cat, and avoided everything about your mother or father; Laura told you about her overprotective dad and what she studied at NYU and how she wanted to write anything and everything and how her friends and family meant the world to her.
That night, you added a lot to the list of things you knew about Laura Hollis.
When the sun finally came up and made itself known in shades of pink and orange through the window in Laura's living room, you realized you spent the night and your stomach didn't churn at the realization. Normally, whenever you accidentally stayed over anywhere other than your own apartment, it was after a night of heavy drinking, mind-numbing sex, and with a girl whose name you couldn't remember in the light of day. You also normally snuck out before she even realized you stayed.
But with Laura, you had lost track of time, in a good way, the best way, and you knew whatever consequences your lack of sleep brought, they'd be completely worth it.
Because you provided dinner and dessert the night before, Laura invited you downstairs so she could make you your morning coffee and you could eat leftover bagels that they couldn't sell from the day before. Laura turned on the radio and the two of you sat at the counter and made small talk about your favorite music and Laura mentioned a few plays she wanted to see before they moved on to other cities. You took a mental note of everything she brought up and thought about maybe making an effort to go on something of a "real" date with the girl sat next to you.
You only made to leave when the ginger twins showed up, asking whose car was parked out back and after the short one pointed out the fact that you were both in your pajamas and socks and definitely not in a barista apron and "whatever blazer in some shade of black" you chose to wear. Laura's blush was instant and you relished in it. You didn't even give her a minute to cool down before you leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of Laura's mouth with nothing more than a smirk and a wink as explanation. You left the three of them alone so you could gather your clothes from the day before and change before heading out. And if you heard a quiet and rushed exclamation of "shut it, Lafontaine," you didn't mention it.