Ready to Fall by Daisy Prescott

sex.
    “Okay. Where are you going with this?”
    “We do all the fun things, blow the stink off together, but avoid the romance.”
    “Date without dating?”
    “Yep. Unless you’d rather hang out with Donnely around here.”
    Hanging out with Donnely had its time and place, but did get boring after a while. “I do stuff other than hang out with D.” For some reason, I felt the need to defend my life.
    “I know you do, but I don’t know anyone and you already offered to show me around. We’ll make a pact it’s not romantic.”
    I gave her a half-smile. “If you need a pact to fall back on in order to keep your hands off of me, then so be it. I’m well aware of how tempting I am.”
    She chuckled and held out her hand. “I think I can resist. It’s you I’m worried about. You’ll eventually be unable to resist the power of the sweater.”
    “We’re shaking on the pact to date without dating?” I held out my hand, but didn’t shake hers.
    “That’s the point.”
    “What about sex? You didn’t say anything about sex.”
    “Implied in the “not dating” part of the pact.” Our hands still hovered over the bar, not touching.
    “Who says you have to date to have sex? I think Donnely is living, breathing proof of that fact.”
    “Sex is off the table.”
    “Forever? Or just between us?”
    “Between us,” she whispered and the words lacked certainty.
    “Okay. No sex. No dating. Tour guide and eye candy at your service.” I reached my hand out and shook hers. Her grip was firm and she didn’t release my hand right away. Neither did I. Her smile reached her eyes when she glanced back at me.
    “Done and done.” Her hand slipped from mine and reached once again for her beer.
    The thing I’d learned about pacts in my life so far was they were made to be broken. I was curious to see how long this one would last and who’d break it first.
    “One more point of clarification.”
    “Yes?” she asked.
    “Just because we aren’t having sex together, doesn’t mean we’ve agreed to a vow of celibacy, right?”
    “You should have asked before shaking on it. No take-backs after.” Her laughter was throaty and she shook her head, letting her long waves shake down around her shoulders.
    “Not taking it back, only clarifying. No sex in this not dating dating thing, but we’re free to get laid should the desire or need arise.”
    She remained silent for a minute, her eyes sweeping over my face. “Should the need arise? Nice wording there.”
    “Thanks. I’m proud of that one, too. Now, answer my question.”
    “This doesn’t apply to me, since I only know you, Donnely, and the women at the studio. And I’m not having sex with Donnely. So sure.”
    “You know Olaf here.” I gestured behind the bar to Olaf, who so studiously ignored us I knew he had to be eavesdropping.
    “Sorry, but Olaf’s off the table, too.”
    “Sorry, O.” He lifted his head and gave me a blank look. Maybe he wasn’t eavesdropping.
    “For what?” he asked.
    I was about to explain Diane wouldn’t have sex with him when I felt the sharp sting of her fingers pinching the hair on my forearm. Swatting away her hand, I said, “Ouch!”
    “Zip it, Day,” she whispered in my ear.
    “Nothing,” I told Olaf. “Another round?” I asked her.
    “No, I’m good.”
    “What do we owe you, O?”
    I paid for both of our beers despite Diane muttering about not being a date and me not having to pay.
    “Shut it, Watson. Friends still pay for shit.”
    “Fine.” She sounded resigned. “Thank you. I’ll get it next time.”
    “There’s the spirit. To next time.” I raised my glass and clinked it with hers.
    “To friends,” she said.
    I may have said it didn’t feel like a date, but I admitted I had more fun hanging out with her than I had on any real dates I could recall.

 
     
     
    D IANE BLEW ON her cup of hot chocolate as we stood on the deck of the ferry to Port Townsend. A warm Chinook wind blew away the cold