Chapter 25 #3
You want to get together later this week? When you have some time, I mean.
Grant
Actually, I have plans for us Saturday. I have a whole day off work.
Me
It’s a date.
He picks me up Saturday afternoon, but he hasn’t told me where we’re going.
He said I should wear clothes I “don’t mind getting messy.
” I’m nervous, but I follow his instructions.
I’m wearing leggings and an old sweatshirt, plus a heavy coat I’ve thrown over it.
The cold air still seeps in through my layers as I walk to his car.
He’s got his heat blasting when I settle into the passenger seat.
“I wasn’t quite ready for this shift,” I tell him. “It’s frigid out there.”
“We’re going somewhere indoors,” he says. “I planned ahead.”
“Can I have a hint?”
“I’m pretty sure it will be right up your alley.” He glances at me. “I know you don’t like surprises, so I’ll tell you if you really want. I thought it might be fun if you didn’t know though.”
I wave a hand. “This sort of surprise is fun. I don’t like being caught off guard with important things is what I meant. Like if you tell me you’re secretly an assassin, I’m going to be upset.”
“If I were an assassin, I would have kept you in the loop. I promise.”
“Might be a bad idea to tell me, now I think about it,” I say. “I’m a gossipy harlot.”
“Noted. Though for the record, I’m not an assassin.”
“Well, damn.” I smile at him. “That could have been fun.”
Twenty minutes later we pull into a parking lot. The place has the word “clay” in the name, and my heart rate kicks up a notch.
“Ooh, pottery! I’ve never done this.” I beam at him, and he sits up straight at my attention. “You were right, though. I love this kind of stuff.”
Despite the cold, his hand burns at the small of my back. I can feel it through the layers of clothing. He shifts closer to me.
It’s a special date-night class and we’re with a few other couples. There’s a woman in a neon blue apron ready to lead us back. She’s got a shock of bright red hair and green-framed glasses, and the overall effect reminds me of a fun, quirky elementary school teacher.
We follow her into little room with metal shelving. There’s a faint earthy smell in the air, and a tarp covering the floor. Grant and I seat ourselves at pottery wheels next to each other. We each get aprons, and as he’s tying mine for me, his fingers brush along the nape of my neck. I shiver.
We each get mounds of clay, and she shows us how to use the wheel, which is operated by a pedal at the bottom, and how to move and shape it.
We mix water with the clay to help mold it, and as it spins, I can see why we’re wearing shabby clothes.
Mud squishes through my fingers as I round the clay.
Droplets of water and specks of brown fly off.
The instructor has her own wheel and she directs us.
“Good thing I didn’t wear my new dress,” I say in a low murmur.
“Yeah? You get something new this week?” He looks at me. The way he’s caressing his clay with his hands has me studying his fingers.
“A sweaterdress. Hot pink, my favorite.” I lift my eyebrows a few times. “I’ll try it on for you later.”
He falters a bit at that. The wheel he’s working on stops and then starts again while his eyes are on me. “Yeah?”
I hold his stare. The other couples around us chat and laugh, but I can only see Grant now. When the instructor comes around, I can barely tear my eyes from him.
“You can shape the edges of the bowl by drawing it up between your fingers,” she says. I follow her instructions, but my skin’s hot and my breath uneven. “Great job!” She beams at me, and I finally rip my gaze from Grant.
“You should get behind me,” I say to him as I shape the edges of my bowl. “We could have a Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore moment.”
He laughs. His fingers glide over his own clay, fashioning a misshapen bowl while he tries to adjust it so that it’s straight. “I’m sorry, what?”
My mouth drops open. “You’ve never seen Ghost?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry.”
“God.” I groan. “That’s one of the best scenes in all of cinema.”
“It was before my time.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “That’s the fun thing about movies. They last forever. And we’re watching it together.”
“All right. I look forward to it.” He chuckles. “You’ve got to let me pick a movie too, then. Something with monsters and smashing things.”
“Deal. And you underestimate my propensity for monsters smashing things, I’m afraid. I love that shit.”
We laugh together, and I laugh even harder when I smash one side of my bowl in. I’m having a great time with him. I can see us doing this for a long time, a series of little moments stitched together into something incredible, stolen laughter between our busy jobs.
We finish our projects, which still have to be fired or baked or whatever happens to harden them. We browse the store for a bit, and I end up with two painted coffee mugs and a heart-shaped bowl.
“I can’t leave without buying something.”
“Obviously.” Grant’s smile is indulgent.
He drives me home, and I’m fidgeting in the seat next to him. We chat, and I try to work up the courage to say what I need to say.
He walks me to my door.
“You want to come in?”
“Of course.” He follows me into my living room.
“Have a seat.” I gesture to my couch.
He looks up at me. “Aren’t you going to sit, too? You look like you’re going to have a heart attack.” His brow furrows. “Are you okay?”
“Grant,” I say. I wring my hands together. “I need to say something.”
“Okay.” His lips compress. He looks like he’s waiting for terrible news.
“I’m in love with you,” I blurt out.
His face shifts to wide-eyed shock. He’s out of his seat before I’m finished talking. He grasps my hands.
“You’re kind,” I say. “Like really, truly kind now. It’s the best kind of change. And I want you all the time.” I let him put his arms around me, and my chin finds his shoulder. “I know I’ve yanked you around, but I need you to know how I feel now.” My heart gallops.
“Kendall.” He steps toward me and cups my cheek with his hand. “I’m so fucking happy to hear you say that.”
Then he leans toward me and kisses me. It’s achingly tender, like we might break this precious thing between us, and fierce at the same time. His kisses turn feverish.
“I’m so in love with you. In case that wasn’t clear.” His intense stare melts me from the inside out. “This is it for me. I swear. I love everything about you. I want to wake up next to you. To watch you study for your med school classes. To see you every day.”
I take a shaky breath. “And your family?”
“Fuck them.” He chuckles. “They can come to terms with it, or they can just not see us. It’s their choice.”
My shoulders drop. I hadn’t realized how nervous I’d been about that until he reassured me.
“And what about when I’m in med school? And residency? I won’t get an in-state one like you did. How are we going to navigate that?”
He shrugs. His hands are still tracing a path down my arms. “You’ll be in med school here for a while. And I’ll get a job wherever you land for residency. We’ll be fine. I’ll go where you are.”
“Just like that, huh? Like it’s that easy?”
“Most cities need orthopedic surgeons. We’ll make it work.”
“It’s going to be wild. With our schedules.”
“I will take every sliver of time I can get with you. You’ll be sick of me before too long.”
“Grant.” I bury my face in his chest. His arms come around me. “This is absurd, isn’t it? After our history?”
He presses his cheek to my hair. “Absurd and amazing.”
My voice comes out muffled. “Whoever thought you’d end up with a girl from home?”
“Not me.” He pulls back and tips my chin up to look at me. “But now it’s happened, I wouldn’t want it any other way. I’m out of my mind over you.”
“I can’t believe how I feel right now,” I say. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck.”
“In a good way?” He arches an eyebrow.
“The best way.”
Then I lean in to kiss him again. We don’t leave that spot for a long time.