Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
Life settles into a new kind of normal in the following weeks.
Just a few days after Graham formally accepted his new position, he asked if I knew a realtor in town.
I may have cried a bit when he asked me, something that thoroughly entertained him, but once I got myself together, I called Maggie, who called Leanne, the best realtor in town.
She was at Daytrip the very next day, eager to find out exactly what Graham was looking for.
By some stroke of luck, he found a townhouse just a block from the ocean that was about to go to market, and was able to put in an offer before it was formally up. I refused to even ask about the offer, for fear the number would make my tummy hurt. He closed on the new home in just two weeks.
Since then, at Graham’s insistence, I’ve spent most of my nights at his place.
This unexpectedly created a bond between my boyfriend and brother, since both decided my apartment is a shithole and not up to their safety standards.
I argue with both of them about it regularly, but the truth is, nights at Graham’s are nicer, and about half of my things have found their way into his drawers and closets.
Most mornings, we go to work together, sometimes walking if the weather is nice, and other times driving together.
Some mornings, he leaves well before me, the workaholic that he is, needing to get a few extra hours in, or doesn’t end up going to the actual office at all, since he’s currently scouting the next Daytrip location.
They’ve got their eye on Ocean View as a second Jersey Shore location.
Rowan’s also been sending information for the Carolinas, Ocean City, Maryland, and Cape Cod, wanting to focus on the East Coast for the first few locations.
I spend my days bebopping around, helping wherever I’m needed, and keeping Graham’s day running smoothly while also working on the two new murals for Daytrip.
While I haven’t heard back on the proposal I submitted to the town, I’ve already gotten approval from Rowan to do postcards for nearly every location.
We’re ironing out the final details for a mural at the Keys location this fall.
My business is thriving, with orders for paintings and digital prints coming in every single day.
With each one, I become more confident that I’m doing the right thing with my life.
Going back to teaching hasn’t even been on my radar for the last month, if I’m being honest.
I’ve never been happier.
Life has been so perfect, so I should have expected a bad day to hit eventually.
They don’t happen too often, but I am human, after all.
Usually, I can snap myself out of it pretty quickly, but I stayed up late at my place painting last night and woke up with my period, which means I woke up tired, alone, and with cramps.
It’s gloomy out, the sun not yet burning off the clouds from last night's storm. Even worse, when I tried to start my car this morning, nothing happened. I had to call Miles to tow it to his garage, and I know that later today or tomorrow I’m going to be stuck arguing with him about how much I owe him, because he’s going to try to say it’s on the house since I’m like a sister to him.
All this to say, when Graham walks in around ten, I’m grouchy and irritated and not feeling like my normal happy self.
“Morning, lady luck,” he says as he walks over to my desk, a grin on his lips.
He doesn’t hide those anymore—not from me, and more often not from the world either.
His laughter and smiles come freely now, something I normally love.
But right now, I’m just not in the mood, especially as I try to find a spreadsheet I may or may not have accidentally wiped.
“Hey,” I grumble, eyes moving back to the screen. Thankfully, I remember there's a button to recover previous editions, and with a sigh, I restore the file.
“What’s wrong?” he asks instantly, brows furrowing.
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“June, you look like someone told you that they’re never going to make rainbow sprinkles again.” He stares at me. “And you didn’t even give me shit about making an actual, real-life joke. Something’s wrong. What is it?”
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head despite the irritation filling me once more. “I’m fine. I deleted a spreadsheet, but I fixed it.”
His eyes narrow, but instead of letting it drop as I hoped, he reaches down, tugging me until I’m standing before him, a bit of my defenses melting away with the move.
“Tell me what’s wrong? What’s dulling your sunshine, June?”
“I hate that you notice things,” I grumble, but he just smiles wider. When did our personalities swap?
“Well, you’re stuck with it, so spill. What’s wrong? Has your luck run out?” he asks with a small tilt of his lips, and my nose scrunches.
“No, I’m just having a bad day. Everyone has bad days, you know.”
He smiles down at me, that small dimple coming out as he pushes a lock of loose hair behind my ear.
“I bet that if you’d stayed at my place last night, it would have been a good day.
” I glower. “Why’s it a bad day? Tell me so I can fix it.
” I open my mouth to argue, but he lifts an eyebrow, and I sigh before the word vomit starts.
“I got my period this morning, and I have cramps, and I’m starving, but nothing sounds good, so I haven’t eaten yet today.
My car finally crapped out, and Miles has it now, which means I’m going to argue with him about paying for it, and then tonight I’ll probably have to argue with you about buying me a new one or something stupid.
Claire keeps bugging me about my birthday, and I just erased my stupid spreadsheet, and I keep getting the most annoying spam calls.
I still haven’t heard from the town, which means they probably hated my mural proposal, and I’m the laughingstock of the chamber of commerce, and—” My throat starts to ache as the words spill out.
Something drops to the ground, and he takes my jaws in both of his hands and cuts off my words with a soft kiss.
As annoying as it is, it eases a bit of the tension in my chest.
When he pulls back, he bends down, grabs the bag he dropped, and hands it to me. Spotting the Seaside Coffee logo on the side, I instinctively know it’s a donut, and my eyes water.
Graham doesn’t stop, though, instead grabbing me, setting my ass on my desk, and watching as I open the bag.
“Hungry for a donut?” he asks, and my lips wobble as I nod and reach into the bag, taking one of the two rainbow sprinkled donuts out. I chew a bite of the treat, the sugar hitting just right and making me sigh with contentment.
“Now. I’ll try to deal with Claire and your birthday. You fixed the spreadsheet? If not, I can call IT, see if they can recover it.”
I shake my head. “I got it.”
“Do you need anything for your cramps or period? Medicine, tampons?”
I shake my head, though the idea of Graham getting tampons for me does perk up my mood a bit.
“I’ve got what I need.”
“Now, the mural proposal.”
My stomach drops again.
“They hate it. That’s the only explanation,” I murmur before taking another too-big bite, sating my self-pity with sugar and Red Dye 40. He rolls his eyes, stepping between my legs, dipping his head to kiss me again as if he can’t help himself.
“I never thought I’d have to outshine you in the positivity department, but I guess there’s a first time for everything,” he mumbles against my lips. “June, the deadline has barely passed. You need to give it time.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” I whine, even though I know he’s right. He lifts an eyebrow, lips tipping in a smirk.
“I can give you something else to think about.”
I glower at him.
“No, Graham, we’re at work.”
“I’m the boss. I can do what I want.”
“I also have my period, and while some people are cool with that, I have never been into that.”
“I could make you feel good,” he says, hand moving up my thigh and making me shiver. “I don’t have to get anything out of it. I hear orgasms help.” For the briefest moment, I contemplate his offer before common sense kicks in.
“No, I’m good. But thank you.”
“Okay, but the offer still stands.” That almost pulls a smile from my lips.
Almost.
“Now, what’s going on with the car? Something wrong with it?” I shrug.
“I don’t know, Miles says it might be the starter. He towed it to the garage this morning to take a look.”
“How’d you get here today?”
“I walked,” I say with a sigh, and he glares at me.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come to pick you up.”
“You were working,” I murmur.
“Weren’t you the one so intent on showing me there’s more to life than work?” I bite my lip, looking away. “Working or not, all I ever want to do is share the sunshine that you radiate all day long, even when you’re having a shit day. Next time, you call me.” My lower lip wobbles.
“You’re not allowed to make me emotional when I’m on my period, Graham. It’s a rule.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize, my bad. I’m new to this whole boyfriend thing.”
That alone makes me want to smile, but the dark cloud hanging overhead keeps me from doing so. He sees it, I think, because after a breath, he steps back, tipping his head to the front door.
“Let’s go for a walk. The sun’s out now,” he says, but I shake my head, resigned to my doomed fate.
“No, I’ll just wallow away in misery in here.”
“Wow, when you’re having a bad day, you really have a bad day, huh?”
“I only know extremes,” I say. “Extreme joy, or extreme misery. There is no in-between.”
“I thought you said some vitamin D would help out even the worst moods?”
I groan, balling up the now-empty bag, tossing it toward the trash, and missing. I glare at it, just another small bit of deceit.
“I think I’d need an entire day in the sun to turn this mood around.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“What?”
“Let’s spend the entire day in the sun, turn your mood around.”
“We can’t just cut out for the day,” I say.