Page 41 of Notes About Vodka (Happily Ever After Hangover #1)

“You know, I really am sorry for how I acted last week when I woke up and you were gone. I’m glad you are still putting up with me. Blame it on my ADHD, or maybe I’ve been alone for too long. Because now that you are in my life, I just want to be everything for you.”

“I get that, Val, I’m just not used to having someone care the way that you do.”

“I’ll always care, for as long as you let me.”

“Really?”

“Really, Laura. I’m here, even when the world is flooding, I’ll carry you through the storm.”

“Okay,” I reply.

He doesn’t push or say anything else, instead letting the silence settle comfortably between us. After a moment, I take a deep breath and turn to him. "Val, can I... Can I kiss you? Like you just sit back and let me kiss you."

His brow furrows slightly, but he nods. "Of course. You know your lips are one of my favorite things about you. Kiss me whenever."

Without giving myself time to overthink, I lean in, pressing my lips to his.

For longer than I want to admit, I’ve felt trapped in my own head, weighed down by doubts and fears.

Especially when it comes to intimacy and my own personal sexuality.

Past experiences have made me hesitant, uncertain of what it means to truly let someone in without fear or regret.

I’ve spent so much time convincing myself that vulnerability is a risk not worth taking, that guarding my heart is the only way to stay in control.

But sitting here with Val, I start to wonder if it’s possible to rewrite that narrative.

What's in the past is the past, this isn't the same Laura.

But as I sit here with Val, I realize I need to stop running from what feels right. He’s been patient, steady, always showing up for me in ways I didn’t know I needed.

This kiss is different. I’m in control and I’m exploring Val’s mouth. It is a new move, and not just a leap forward—it’s a way to tell him I see him, that I’m ready to let him in. It’s a step toward something I’m finally brave enough to want.

For months since I first met Val, standing there behind the bar like he had always been expecting, waiting for me, I’ve been stuck in my own head.

I keep replaying that moment, his dark brown eyes glinting gold as I neared, his easy smile making me feel wanted in a way I hadn’t expected as I walked up to the bar, soaked from the storm.

But as I look at Val, I realize I need to stop holding back. I need to let myself feel something real.

The kiss is slow and careful, yet it feels like breaking through the surface of water after being underwater too long—a breath of life I didn’t know I was missing.

I need this—to quiet my doubts, to remind myself that I can take a step forward without breaking apart. It’s slow and careful, but there’s an intensity behind it that surprises even me. Val responds gently, his hand moving to cup my cheek, and the world seems to fade away for a moment.

When we pull apart, I search his face for any sign of hesitation or doubt. All I find is warmth.

"I’m sorry," I murmur. "That was?—"

"Don’t apologize," Val interrupts, his voice soft but firm. " I’m glad you took control and kissed me the way you wanted. I liked it."

We stay close, foreheads touching, as the weight I’ve been carrying seems to lighten just a little.

"Val, there’s something I need to tell you."

His expression shifts, concern flickering in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. He just waits, his hand resting lightly on my arm.

I take a deep breath. "It’s about my mom, why I left you in my bed.

She’s... She has schizophrenia." My voice wavers, and I hesitate, unsure if I can find the right words. "It’s hard to talk about because it’s been such a huge part of my life, and I’ve always felt like I had to handle it on my own.

Like admitting it out loud makes it more real.

It’s been bad for a long time, but she’s finally trying to get help.

I’m just... I’m scared, Val. I’m scared I can’t be the person she needs me to be.

” I look away, unable to meet his gaze. "She’s had so many episodes, so many moments where I’ve felt like I was losing her.

And I’ve tried to be there for her, but sometimes it feels like too much. Like I’m not enough."

Val reaches out, gently tilting my chin so I’m looking at him again. "Laura, you’re not alone in this. You’re not supposed to carry it all by yourself. And you don’t have to be perfect, just be there. That’s what matters."

I blink back tears, his words sinking in. "You’re not going anywhere, are you?"

His smile is small but steady. "Not a chance."

I settle back down, resting my head on his chest as his arms wrap around me.

He exhales softly, his fingers tracing slow, reassuring circles on my back.

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my cheek is grounding, a quiet reminder that I’m not alone in this.

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat is a stark contrast to the restlessness that consumed me earlier.

For so long, I’ve been fighting my thoughts alone, but here, in Val’s embrace, the chaos seems to melt away.

It’s not just comfort he provides—it’s a sense of security I hadn’t realized I was missing.

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat calms me, and for the first time in weeks, I feel a flicker of hope.

As my eyes grow heavy, I think to myself, Maybe he’s right. Maybe I can do this.

Val suddenly shifts slightly, reaching for something on the side table.

My mind races for a second—was he reaching for his phone, maybe to check a message?

Or worse, was this the moment he decided I had shared too much?

My chest tightens slightly as I brace myself, but then he turns back, holding one of my favorite flair pen markers in a dark, pretty violet.

I raise an eyebrow, watching him with curiosity as he uncaps it like he’s about to write something profound.

"What are you up to?" I ask, amused, but he just smirks and reaches for my hand. Before I can ask, he grabs my hand and pulls it gently toward him. In my palm, he starts to write, the felt tip of the marker tickling my skin.

When he’s done, I tilt my hand to read it: What are your favorite flowers?

I laugh softly. "You’re silly," I say, shaking my head. "Why did you write this on my palm instead of just asking?"

He grins, holding up the sharpie. "I like our secret messages, our notes."

I roll my eyes, hesitating for a second before finally taking the marker from him. "You’re really committed to this, huh?" I say, tapping the cap against my palm.

He just smirks, tilting his arm toward me in silent challenge. Shaking my head, I pop the cap off and lean in to write. On his forearm, I write back: Well, if you haven’t noticed, I absolutely adore tulips, but there’s not a flower I haven’t met that didn’t steal my heart.

He reads it, his smile widening. "Tulips, huh? Noted. "

Before I can react, he takes the marker again and scribbles something on my collarbone. I gasp, laughing as the cool ink glides over my skin. "Hey! That better not be something embarrassing."

"Read it and find out," he teases, sitting back.

I hold up my phone and use the front camera to read. Why do you always smell like vanilla and trouble?

I roll my eyes but can’t stop the grin spreading across my face. "Because I roll around in honeybee pollen and dream of glowing up the world around me."

"That, or you’re secretly a cupcake in disguise," he teases, offering me his arm again.

I quickly write out my question near his elbow. “Why me?”

Val’s eyes darken a little as he looks into my eyes and answers, “Because you are the world, Laura.”

I choke up, and almost start crying. But Val grabs the marker back, scrawling on top of my hand this time.

“So, that note about vodka? Really, a salad?”

I lose it, laughing at the reminder of his first note to me.

We keep going, scribbling words and questions all over each other’s skin, trading laughter and teasing remarks. Before I realize it, I’ve practically undressed myself and him in order to find new spaces to write notes. Our clothes are discarded as we explore each other with ink and curiosity.

Somewhere along the way, my lips started painting over his skin, too.

A kiss to his bicep after I draw a butterfly.

Another down his spine as I write out how scared I was during my own surgeries.

His lips tickle my toes as he writes, “I promise I don’t have a foot fetish, but I love these little piggy toes. ”

Another kiss on my chest after Val draws a string of hearts down the scar there.

My heart pounds as Val pauses, his marker hovering over my hip as he writes out a question, “Have you ever had anyone kiss you here?” And there’s an arrow pointing to the place between my thighs.

I shake my head; Val’s eyebrows raise and I whisper, “Not even Sam.”

"Can I?" His voice is soft, careful, giving me the space to decide. "Kiss you…here?" Val indicates exactly where he wants to kiss, barely tracing the tip of his marker over my pink cotton panties, outlining my swelling nub.

I nod, my pulse quickening. I make a decision before I can change my mind. "Yes. I want that."

His lips replace the ink, his touch slow and reverent, as his tongue massages my clit through my underwear and somewhere deep inside, I clench, grabbing onto the air between us.

When he finally tugs my panties to the side and kisses me between my legs, I arch into him, stars bursting behind my eyelids.

I feel a finger slip through my folds and I can't help but to moan his name.

I was definitely dreaming last time. This is… so much better…

It’s overwhelming in the best way, and for the first time in my life, I don’t feel afraid of this kind of closeness—I just feel wanted. Safe.

Who knew oral could be so…nice.

Val takes his time, licking and sucking slowly. When I begin to squirm from the building pleasure, his hands anchor my hips to his mouth.

"You taste so delicious, baby girl. Moya lubimaya. Just like I expected, sunshine and cookies."

"Val," I pant as his tongue dips inside me. I'm lost to the sensation. I grab my own breast through my T-shirt, twisting my nipple just enough to feel a sting. It's enough to push me over the edge. I come hard, moisture squirting out of me and all over Val's face .

I immediately start to feel embarrassed and try to turn around to move away.

"Oh no you don’t, Laura, I'm not done drinking my new favorite libation."

"But, that was... Val, I've never done that before."

"Squirted?"

"Yes," I admit, heat rising in my cheeks.Especially since I already dreamed it with him once.

"Well I've never made a woman squirt before so why don't you lay back, relax, and let me kiss you clean because that was amazing."

Looking into Val's dark eyes, all I see is how much he cares, how much he desires me. "Okay," I finally reply leaning back on the cushions of his couch.

Val makes good on his promise, kissing me clean until I come a second time. I don't make a big mess this time, but the orgasm has my body feeling like putty.

Absolutely satisfied, I move and try to return the favor, but Val stops me with a gentle smile, brushing a thumb across my cheek. "Not yet, sunshine," he murmurs. "Soon, but not tonight, tonight was about you. Okay?"

“Okay,” I reply, even though I can see the outline of his hardness through his boxers and I really want to know how he tastes, how he feels, how he loses control when he comes. That dream did something to me. But I let it go.

Val pulls me up from the couch, leading me to the shower.

He keeps his underwear on the entire time, washing away the ink in slow, lazy strokes.

“I’m already missing seeing my ink on you,” he whispers as he dries us off, giving me a pair of his boxers and a shirt to sleep in.

I reply with as much wit as I can, even though I’m exhausted, “You know, you could always make it permanent. ”

“Nah, I like repainting the canvas. Something new each time.”

Val kisses my forehead before guiding me to his bed. As he tucks me under the sheets and pulls me close, as he lies on top of the covers.

“Why don’t you crawl under the cover?” I ask as I drift away.

“Because I won’t be able to stop myself from going all the way and I want you to be a hundred percent into this, into us.”

I feel something settle inside me—a quiet kind of certainty that shifts my heart. His calm patience with me releases something. An anxiety that I no longer feel the need to hold onto. I sink into his arms.

"You’re mine, Laura, I’ll wait for you," he whispers. "As long as it takes."

"And you're mine, too, Val," I reply as sleep pulls me under.