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“You always smell so good.”

My fingers tighten around his on the railing. I want to turn, to press my lips to his and live in his embrace. I know I can’tthough. I can still hear Izzy and Owen bickering and banging around upstairs.

“Found it!” I hear Owen exclaim loudly and it’s the only warning before he comes stomping back to the stairs.

Warren disentangles our hands and steps away from me, shoving his hands in his pockets. While I stand dizzy and recovering from the loss of him.

Waving an ancient magazine with a naked woman on the cover, Owen jumps the last few steps to the landing, Izzy close on his heels. Triumphant in his recovery of ancient porn.

“Was that really valuable enough to dig out of whatever hole you hid it in?” I ask, trying to recenter myself and act like nothing is different from any other day.

“Hell yeah.”

He flips the glossy pages open with a flourish, revealing the editions centerfold.

“Miss July was the star of all my adolescent fantasies.”

“And adult dreams. Weren’t you just talking about her last week?” Warren asks, ignoring the naked busty beauty on the paper.

“Oh yeah, she’s still got it after all these years.”

Both Izzy and I shake our heads at him. Izzy gives him a smack on the back of the head for good measure.

“Grow up,” she scolds.

He ignores her and admires his prize, gently folding it back together and tucking it under his arm.

“Are we done reminiscing now? It’s not exactly warm and cozy in here and I think I hear my couch calling.” Me wanting to leave has nothing to do with the fact that Warren is coming over. None at all. I’m simply cold and tired from working at the shop all day. That’s all.

“Fine, you party pooper. We can go now.”

The four of us pile back into Warren’s truck after one last long look at the house. Again, Owen drives and Warren insists I sit on his lap for comfort. The press of his hand to my thigh, a promise of things to come.

~

When Warren leaves the diner he heads in the direction of his boat at Gigi’s, and I walk the block toThe Book Vaultand my apartment above. This secret meeting each other and hiding it from our friends feels odd. I’ve always told Izzy everything, including all the men I’ve slept with. How good or bad they were, things they did that were weird or amazing. If they wore socks while having sex. Not telling her I finally got to be with Warren feels unnatural.

But what would it accomplish telling her? Warren’s still leaving in less than a week. Nothing is going to come of us spending a few nights together. Bringing it up would only make things awkward. I’ve kept my feelings for him hidden from everyone for this long, why change that now? Especially when telling Warren hasn’t really changed anything.

I make it into my apartment and set about filling the wood burning stove to heat up the place. It has a heating unit, but the stove is more efficient and costs way less to heat the small space. There’s only two bedrooms and one bathroom, a small kitchen connected to an all-in-one living space that houses my cozy couch and four-person dining table.

Nothing in my home matches per se. The dining table is from the fifties with glittery silver vinyl seats. My couch Victorian tufted red velvet. The end tables spacey art deco pieces from the seventies. It’s eclectic and I love it. Whoever said décor and furniture had to match was crazy. The pieces are still completely functional even if they don’t.

Books lay stacked and open on nearly every surface. Living above and owning a bookstore comes with its perks. Especially a new and used bookstore. No one minds the creases or bends on the well-loved books. I’ve even implemented a rental system, so if there’s something here that’s not at the library, they can rent the book for a small fee. If they love it, they can buy it or return it when they’re done. Kinda like the old movie rental stores. I even make book baskets they can buy as gifts for someone, filled with bookish items to match their book of choice.

I just wish we weren’t so far away from the lower forty-eight. Maybe then I could schedule some authors to come in and do a signing event.

I sigh, striking the match to light the wood in the stove. There are just some things you have to accept when living in Alaska. Like always being cold, and living for months with no sunshine and the possibility of being snowed in.

You might not think the shop would do well when businesses have to shut down sometimes for weeks, but being a bookstore, we do fairly well. When the internet goes out what do you think people do to fill the time? Read. Which is why the rental program is great. I make weekly deliveries to local homes on my snowmobile. Okay, well it's Gigi’s snowmobile, but she lets me use it when the snow is too deep or icy for the car. People love it and it helps keep me in the black during those times.

I straighten up the place, neatly stacking the haphazard books and put a record on the turntable. Another analog way to keep entertained when the power or internet goes out. Living off a generator is a real thing here and not having to charge devices and use up fuel is a great saver. There’s a lot Alaskans have to consider when living here that many other Americans don’t ever have to worry about. It’s just one of the things that makes living here so unique, and why I don’t want to leave.

I’d hate to be so glued to my phone and computer all the time that I don’t know what to do with myself if the power went out. Or how to get warm without electricity and store food for when the delivery trucks can’t get to us. I just feel more involved in living and enjoy the world around me more this way. Makes a person look up, notice, and appreciate what’s around them.

I don’t have to wait long to hear Warren’s footsteps climbing the stairs to my door. I turn to watch as he enters. He hasn’t needed to knock in years. Hell, all three of my best friends have keys to my place just in case. You can’t be too safe when living alone.

Warren strides in, silently shutting and locking the door behind him. Sliding the chain into place just in case any of those with keys try to stop by uninvited.