Read The Night I Got Lucky for Free Online

some reality show. I rol ed over and shut off the radio. And then I flinched. What was that thing on my nightstand? I opened my eyes more ful y. The frog from Blinda, that was al . It seemed bigger this morning, more green. The spherical eyes gleamed, the haunches appeared ready to leap, and that slash of a mouth was turned up at the edges. The thing was smiling.
    I turned the frog around so it wasn’t looking at me and dragged myself out of bed and through the dark bedroom. I stopped at the window and pul ed back the tan linen drapes. Outside, it was hazy wet and gray, the air thick with fog. The tree trunks bore a deep charcoal sheen. Chicago looked like a misty Scottish bog.
    In the bathroom, the lights blazed on like a fast-food joint. I glanced in the mirror, running my hands through my dark hair, unruly now from sleep—parts curly, parts flat, parts electric and standing on end. This was my typical morning do. But I looked different somehow. I leaned closer to the mirror. Eyes stil blue, lashes stil long. I stepped back and surveyed the rest of myself—one shoulder was slightly higher than the other, same as always. My hips were stil too broad for my taste, my breasts a little too smal . Nothing had changed.
    “Get going,” I muttered to myself. Enough vanity. I turned on the shower and on second thought, flicked on the steam component. When we moved in, we expanded the shower, instal ing four different showerheads and a steam function. It was one of my favorite spots in the house.
    The steam kicked on, making the stal as misty as the weather outside. I took a deep breath and let the heat seep into my body. I soaked my hair, picking up a bottle of shampoo. And then I heard a creak. A footfal came next. Then a shuffling sound. The door of the shower was yanked open, and I yelped, clutching the shampoo bottle to my chest.
    “It’s me, hon.” Chris stepped ful y inside the shower, the steam parting for him.
    “What are you doing?”
    “I thought I’d join you.”
    “Oh.” It was al I could think of to say. We’d never been in that shower together, despite the fact that I’d had a number of fantasies about how to use the tiled bench.
    “Let me do that for you.” Chris took the shampoo from my hand. He turned me around and began soaping my hair, massaging my head gently with those large hands of his. He went on like this for a few minutes, then he whispered, “Close your eyes,” and he tilted my head under the water to rinse it.
    When he was done, Chris drew my head back and kissed my neck. He nibbled on my earlobes. The water beat down on my bel y now, and I heard myself moan softly. The steam was thick. I don’t know if I could have seen Chris if I opened my eyes, but I could feel him. He stood behind me, and I felt his broad, wet chest against my back, his lean legs behind mine. And then I could feel something else. Chris might not have been in the mood last night, but he certainly was this morning.

    Afterwards, we stood nuzzling in the steamy bathroom.
    “I’ve missed that,” Chris said.
    “You have?”
    “Yeah. Hel , yeah.”
    I used a towel to dab some water from his forehead. “Me, too.”
    “C’mere.” He pul ed me by the hand, back to our bed, its gray-green sheets twisted and rumpled.
    “We’l get the bed al wet,” I said.
    “Who cares?”
    “Not me.” I hopped into bed and threw off the towel. Chris and I nestled into the stil warm sheets, and, nose to nose, started talking like we hadn’t in years.
    “What’s going on at work?” Chris said. “What’s the status of getting you into a VP office?”
    The reminder of my failure to be promoted should have disheartened me, but I was too content and snug with my husband to be affected. I happily fil ed Chris in on al the work gossip and on Alexa’s condescending attitude.
    “That little bitch,” Chris murmured, and I snuggled closer, pleased to have someone on my side.
    “And did you and Evan get that press release done?”