Page 18 of Notes About Vodka (Happily Ever After Hangover #1)

Chapter Ten

VAL

“A vodka margarita is a rule breaker—a twist on a classic, just like those unexpected moments that shake up your life and leave you wanting another taste.”

As Laura walks into the coffee shop, I pause mid-breath.

She looks stunning, exuding a natural confidence even in the simplest outfit—denim jeans, a matching jacket, a white T-shirt, and a pale blue scarf.

Her gray book-bag hangs casually over one shoulder, but it’s the pop of color in her outfits that always catches my eye.

This time, it’s the hot pink polka dotted ladybug helmet she’s carrying.

It reminds me of when I first saw her on that scooter, I had no idea who was under the helmet until she forced me to pull over.

When she removed it and her red hair cascaded down her back, I was awe-struck all over again.

She owns me with just her hair.

Laura draws every eye in the room as she spots me and storms over .

Her gray eyes almost appear bright blue despite the early hour, filled with a quiet determination that catches me off guard. She looks almost…angry and relieved?

Her red hair frames her face, softening her features while adding a fiery glow.

I feel a grin tugging at my lips before I can stop it.

Putting her helmet on the table I'm sitting at, she slips her book-bag off her shoulder. Unzipping the front pocket, she digs inside and then holds out her TI-30 calculator like a prize.

“Laura, you are a lifesaver,” I exclaim, reaching for it eagerly.

“Latte?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, her tone teasing but sharp.

“Huh?” I fumble, shoving the calculator into my book-bag, still half-distracted by how effortlessly beautiful she looks.

“Latte,” she repeats, her eyebrow arching higher. “You said a latte for my calculator. Where’s my latte?”

“Oh, yeah. Well, there’s where you order,” I say, pointing to the counter, immediately regretting my careless words. Why did I say that? I offered for crying out loud. Now I look like an idiot who can’t even follow through on a simple promise.

Her expression shifts from playful to indignation. I catch a flicker of genuine irritation in her eyes as she pops her hip and puts her hand on it. “Seriously?” she snaps. “You want me to go and order my own latte after you told me you would buy me a latte for my calculator?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” I start to explain, but she interrupts me.

“Yeah, I’m putting it like that. Give me my calculator back.”

“Umm, no, I really need to borrow it,” I say quickly, clutching the calculator like it’s my lifeline. “Here, let me go get you a latte. What flavor do you like?”

“Mocha is fine. And since you were rude just then, I’d also like that big chocolate muffin in the display case,” she says, folding her arms and sitting down with a dramatic flair and loud humph.

“Okay,” I say, walking over to the barista, stealing one last glance at her while she pulls out her notes. She’s already lost in her work, her brow furrowed slightly, and I can’t help but feel a wave of admiration.

I also know she's ignoring me on purpose and that makes me feel something. Especially when she sneaks a glance at me and her freckled cheeks redden.

As I wait for the barista to prepare her order, I find myself replaying our earlier conversations in my head.

I love sharing notes with her and even though I have her cell phone number now, I miss the banter.

It’s rare to meet someone who can talk with me without missing a beat, someone who makes me feel lighter just by being around.

When the barista calls out the order, I grab Laura's latte, muffin, and even an extra bottle of water for her later and head back to the table.

“Here you go, moya czaritsa,” I say with a playful grin, hoping to lighten the mood.

She smiles despite herself. “Thanks, Val. You’re forgiven. For now. Not really, though." She winks before continuing. "And what did you just say? You really have to teach me Russian so I can understand and communicate with you in your language.”

Feigning heartbreak, I grab her hand gently. “Laura, that was rude of me. You are a lifesaver, and I appreciate the calculator. But more importantly, thank you for spending time with me this morning. I called you my queen, your highness. And it would be a pleasure to teach you Russian.”

Feeling cheesy, I press a kiss onto her knuckles.

“Oh, geez, I'll take that back. Don’t push it, Valerie,” she says, pulling her hand away from mine, but there’s a warmth in her tone that makes me grin. Especially when she turns her body towards mine. I don’t even care that she said my name wrong.

She takes a sip of her latte, her eyes smile up at me. “So, what class is your exam in today? I know you told me, but I forgot,” she asks, her tone shifting to genuine curiosity.

“Molecular genetics,” I remind her, trying not to sound as tired as I feel.

“Sounds intense,” she says, her expression softening. “How are you feeling about it?”

“Honestly?” I sigh, “I’m nervous. I’ve got a bunch of population genetics questions to work through, specifically related to breast cancer. The math is no joke, Laura. Dr. Biuret makes you think.”

She nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, I think I take him in the spring. You better take good notes for me.”

“Always the best for you, Laura. I’ve got your back.” I smirk and add, “Hey, I’ve got a joke for you. Why can’t you trust an atom?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because they make up everything!” I say, grinning.

Her eyes open wide and I can see a faint yellow ring in each iris amidst the blue flecks.She groans at my joke but can’t stop herself from laughing. “That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, I know. But it’s the best I’ve got right now,” I reply, smiling. “And it made you laugh, my new favorite sound.”

Laura blushes bright red before shoving her own classwork back into her bookbag.

“You are so funny Val.”

“Only for you lubimaya.”

The banter starts to flow easily between us, and for a moment, the weight of the upcoming exam lifts. After a bit more conversation about her upcoming classes and how she’s juggling her schedule, I glance at my watch.

“I’ve got to head to my exam, but how about we grab lunch afterward? There’s this new Mexican place I want to try over near Columbia.”

She hesitates briefly, then nods. “Fine, I'd like that, actually,” she says, trying to sound casual. “Where should we meet?”

“How about I meet you outside of your class today?” I suggest. “I’ll pick you up, and we’ll head over together. You can leave your scooter locked up and I'll bring you back after we eat.”

“Okay, I’ll be over in the history building,” she agrees, and I swear my heart soars to heaven. I smile wider when Laura adds, “Good luck on your exam.”

“Thanks,” I say, grabbing my bag, I double check to make sure I have her calculator. “See you soon.”

As I walk out, I can’t help but glance back at her one last time.

She’s already pulled her work out again and she’s engrossed in her notes, her hair falling over her face as she concentrates.

It’s such a simple moment, but it’s enough to make me feel like the luckiest guy alive.

As I step into the crisp morning air, I find myself smiling, already looking forward to seeing her again.

Later, when I’m deep into the calculations for my molecular genetics exam, I flip the calculator over, my focus momentarily breaking.

That’s when I notice her name etched in careful, slightly faded pen on the inside of the case: Laura Mae Solyn .

My lips curve into a grin as I trace the letters with my thumb.

It’s such a small thing, yet it feels like a piece of her—simple, unassuming, but undeniably hers.

Without thinking, I pull a Sharpie from my bag. Logic completely deserts me as I write my name next to hers: Val . It feels juvenile, almost ridiculous, but before I can stop myself, I cross out her last name, Solyn . A strange thrill rushes through me as I rewrite it, Zaitseva .

Nu paga de… Well, just wait a moment, because my sunshine… I’ve already trapped you in the rabbit snare.

I lean back, my heart pounding as I stare at what I’ve done. It’s absurd. Childish. And yet, the sight of her name with mine makes my chest feel lighter, like some secret hope has taken root.

For a moment, I laugh at myself, shaking my head. You’re losing it, Val.

But then an idea sparks. When I return the calculator to her later, maybe I’ll leave a note inside the case—a playful comment or a joke about the name change. Something small to make her smile.

I imagine her reaction; the way her eyebrows will arch, the mock frustration that will light up her face, and, hopefully, the soft laugh that always makes my day a little brighter. The thought alone makes the stress of the exam melt away, leaving me grinning like a fool in the middle of the exam.