Free Love at Large by Jaffarian;others

calm the hundreds of butterflies taking wing inside her. She puffed out her cheeks, blew the air out through her teeth, and straightened her spine before turning back to see if he was still distracted by his reading.
    He was.
    She cleared her dry throat and decided this was as good a time as any to return to her seat. Feeling like the world’s frowsiest hausfrau, she crept back to the corner and breathed a self-congratulatory sigh of relief for reaching the table without drawing notice to herself. But she celebrated a moment too soon, for as she turned the back of her heel hit the metal leg of the chair, which gave a deafening screech as it skittered away from her. Lauren threw herself backward in a desperate bid to plant her backside on the retreating furniture, only (just) saving herself from plopping on the floor in a graceless heap.
    Heat filled her face as she made a blind grope for her soda and missed knocking her book to the floor. Her numb fingers struggled until she finally popped the tab of the can. She raised her shaking hand to her mouth and gratefully swallowed draught after draught of the cool beverage, her tongue snaking out to lick any wayward drops from her lips.
    Thirst abated, she turned her attention to her box of chocolates, and gave an imperceptible shake of her head. Much as she’d love to dive into her velvety treat, the unbearable heat of the room must have taken its toll on them. She could not, would not be seen by this gorgeous hunk dribbling candy all over her herself!
    With reluctance, she turned from the chocolates to her book, which she picked up with as much nonchalance as possible under the circumstances, and opened to the little Celtic cross-stitch book mark she’d made the winter before last. Raising the novel shield-like in front of her face, Lauren tried to make sense of the words that on any other day she could have recited from memory. Leaning a bit to the left, she peeked around the paperback at her uninvited tablemate, who gave a deft lick to one large thumb and turned another page of his book, wreaking still more havoc on her frayed nervous system.
    She brought her eyes back to the words on the page and tried to regain her normal breathing pattern. She heard a soft tearing sound: the chocolate milk carton.
    She peered over the top of her paperback and saw him bring it to his shapely mouth. In a perfect world, he’d spill some of that on his shirt. And being in a laundromat, he’d think nothing of stripping it off and tossing it into one of the machines. Her mouth turned up at the thought of this divine creature having an unexpected moment of human klutziness.
    Still…what she wouldn’t give to see it happen. Her vision blurred as she imagined the fluid grace with which he’d peel off the offending garment; the hard, carved torso that would be revealed as he did so. She could see a droplet of milk mingling with the sweat in the hollow of his throat, coursing down the center of his chest, slipping past his bulky rectangular pecs, easing its way over the ridges of his abdomen ‘til it slid down to . . .
    Coming to her senses, her eyes snapped back into focus and she found herself locking gazes with an inquisitive pair of piercing blue-green ones. Her mouth formed a surprised little O as she opened her eyes wide. The stranger’s gaze dropped to the cover of her book, taking in the painting of the heroic bare-chested Scot, then recaptured hers. His mouth twisting in a wry grin, he raised one quizzical eyebrow as if to ask, Gotten to the good part yet?
    Lauren bit her lip in complete mortification. Hiding once more behind her book, she tried again to apply herself to reading the words, but still found it difficult, as though she held the stalest of academic tomes rather than a pleasant and enjoyable novel. Before long, however, the comfort the familiar story always brought filled her chest, and she allowed herself to be transported to another world.
    Lauren jumped as a dryer