Chapter 21
21
J ae and I fall into a routine that keeps my heart in balance and time passes for me in a way that it hasn’t before. The days morph into one another and the weeks roll past me like subway cars in a station. With ease. Without grief. Every day I look forward to seeing him, and every day I do see him. It is a dream come true for my feeble heart.
We countdown the days until June under my bed covers. I meet Jae at the restaurant at nine every morning and paint with his mother until noon. I go to group therapy and make an effort to participate. We walk home together from The Red Kettle after the dinner service, and I catch up on all the things I’ve missed in life until it’s time to go to sleep.
Nights spent with Jae are always gone in the blink of an eye, the flap of a firefly’s wing, the slamming of a cab door. But he’s always back in an instant. He’s everywhere I go.
A text message saying good morning.
A note in my paint box.
A leftover meal in my refrigerator.
All the things that made me grieve Grant are all the things that make me love Jae. I see him in a bouquet of lilies at the corner bodega, a song on the radio, a steaming mug of tea.
In June, I pack up Jae’s apartment for the second time. All the things that made me sad when I packed it up the first time, make me happy the second time. This time I am not alone. This time it is not goodbye forever. This time is different.
Jae and I spend two weekends packing and moving to his new space, already undergoing renovations. He reminds me with each kiss that this time is different, each brush of his fingertips, each minute he spends listening to me spill my fears. I am not afraid anymore.
In July, we find our routine drenched with rolls and rumbles of summer thunderstorms like the ones that drench the city. Eventually, after trial and error and a week apart, we find a new one. I see him every morning to paint with his mother at The Red Kettle, but I spend one weekend at his apartment in Gramercy, he spends the next with me in the West Village. Jae is both awfully suspicious and excited about his apartment renovations—using tarps to keep me from seeing the final products of his efforts, but at the same time saying, “You’ll love it, I promise!”
He fills my apartment with delicious meals and fresh flowers every night. He takes up space in voids I had left empty for so long. I am not afraid to take up his time any longer, either. I love my new life. I’ve wanted this for so long, and I’ve finally let myself have it. He makes my apartment a home, and Jae’s presence makes me home even when I am by myself.
One hot and humid midsummer evening, we are walking up to Jae’s new building, the building decorated with an intricate stone facade and a large front stoop. I’m dripping in sweat waiting for Jae to unlock the vestibule door when he grabs my hand and pulls me towards him into an equally sweaty hug.
“What was that for?” I am disgusted but also pleased with his sudden touch as he slides his hands from my shoulders down to my waist. Even months later, his hands still send electric shocks coursing through my body like an earthquake from an epicenter.
“Just because,” he answers, sweat also dripping from his brow, his hands wandering from my waist to the small of my back to my ass.
“That doesn’t seem like just because!” I exclaim as he squeezes my butt.
“Actually, there is something I want to talk about.”
My face suddenly twists into something crestfallen, confused about what he could want to talk about so suddenly. The night is going well. After I dropped Lily off at her pet hotel, I met him at The Red Kettle to help him close the restaurant, and made sure to pack a fully stocked overnight bag for a sex-filled and relaxing weekend at his apartment after not seeing each other for more than a few hours in a presentable manner for three days.
“Talk about what?” I ask, but he’s still smiling like he didn’t just give me a fucking heart attack.
“Come with me,” He gives my ass one last squeeze before taking my hand again, totally sweaty, and guiding me up the stairs and into his apartment. We toe off our shoes, and he guides me through the construction zone that is the kitchen and hallway.
The dusty plastic sheet that was formerly covering what would be his new den is finally gone, and instead, I am greeted by…something else.
“What is going on with your den? Why is there a sink?” I’m confused. There’s a large, industrial sink placed in the corner of the room—exactly where I thought he was going to be placing a built-in bookshelf.
“Why do you think so?” Jae looks at me, excitement sparkling in his eyes, but I’m still not putting two and two together until he hands me a stack of paint brushes that seemingly came out of nowhere.
“You want me to paint in here?”
“It’s a studio. For you.” He shifts to stand behind me, hugging me from the back. “So you don’t have to paint in your living room anymore. We’ll move your easels and canvases. And you can host your lessons here.” I had quite the growing clientele list.
I look around the small room. It’s painted a bright shade of light blue with exposed brick on one wall, and has massive, north-facing industrial style windows with what would be tons of natural daylight.
“Why did you do this? What about your den?” I crane my neck to look at him.
“I don’t need a den. I already have the main living room.”
Jae fishes in his gym short pockets for something, and then he hands me a set of keys.
“These are also for you.”
I already have keys to his apartment.
“What are these?” The keys to his heart?
“The keys to a storage unit.”
“A storage unit. A storage unit for what?”
“The unit the cabinets Grant designed are in. And the brass sconces. I saved them, too. They’re yours to do with what you want.”
“Why would you do this?” I ask, taking the keys from his hands, unsure of what to make of the situation.
“I know how much they meant to you. I’ll install them here, or in your apartment, if you want.” Jae keeps his eyes trained on me, his face beaming. “But I have something else, too.”
“Thank you. I’ll think about it. I’ll definitely use the studio when I am here.” I begin to thank him profusely before Jae cuts me off, taking both my hands in his, his excitement over his next announcement almost too much for his face to bear.
“Riley—” He pushes a kiss to my cheek. “Please move in with me and use the studio all of the time.”
I knew this was coming. I knew it as soon as he showed me the studio. A man doesn’t do all of this and not ask you to move in after. When I don’t answer in a heartbeat, he interjects, “You don’t have to say yes. Just think about it, please?”
“You don’t think it is too soon?” I cock my head, my hair falling to one shoulder.
“I know when it’s the right decision.”
“What about your ma?” Moving in with Jae and his mother would certainly prove to be a unique situation.
“She’ll be here for a while, of course. She likes you, you know,” Jae answers, squeezing my hands. His ma had a caretaker from mid-morning to mid-evening, who sometimes joined us for painting. “But if I’m being honest, I think we may have to move her to a round-the-clock monitored facility by the end of the year.” Jae’s face is grim. “I can’t take care of her the way she needs, with the restaurant. I hope she doesn’t deter your decision.”
“She doesn’t, Jae.” I smile at him. “I didn’t even have to think about it. Of course I’ll move in with you.”
He pulls me into a sweet, mild kiss that quickly turns provocative with the dip and twist of his tongue as he catches his teeth on my bottom lip.
“I can’t wait to call this our apartment,” he growls into my mouth, his voice low.
Just the thought of him kissing me goodnight makes me tingle. Jae kisses my cheeks and neck like he’s doing it for the first time. “I can’t wait to see you in our bedroom,” I laugh in response to his sudden lack of inhibitions, as his hands make their way to feel up my sides and back. “Whose mattress are we keeping?”
“Yours. I always sleep better on yours.” He grumbles into my neck, his hands cupping me, apparently itching to pick me up.
“As long as we can use your sheets and comforter. I can’t get enough of how you smell.” I inhale a massive breath from his collar bone. “Even when you’re disgusting and sweaty.”
Jae’s response is to finally pick me up and carry me through the hallway and into his bedroom, soon to be our bedroom, and toss me onto his unmade bed. I laugh maniacally the whole way.
Before I can scold him for tossing me like a magazine, he’s on top of me, and kissing me so dearly. He kisses like honey dripping from a spoon, agonizingly tender and slow. I lavish each press of his soft lips with my tongue and my scold is long forgotten.
“Let’s give this mattress a good send off, yeah?” Jae suggests.
“The best send off it could ever imagine,” I agree, tugging at his belt loops.
As we undress one another, I am reminded how much physical attention Jae pays to me. There’s always a hand holding mine, or a hand on the small of my back, guiding me through the subway or the grocery store. There’s never a moment when we’re together that he’s not near, reminding me how much he needs me as I need him.
He is eternally anticipating my needs.
“Let me make you come,” Jae whispers. I can hear the hunger in his voice. I lay back on the bed, and he kneels on the floor. He anticipates correctly when he pushes my knees open to kiss down to my thighs and between my legs.
The warmth of his tongue makes my eyes roll back into my head and a groan escapes from my mouth. From a good morning text message to a glass of iced tea to the right kind of tongue flick in bed, he knows me well.
He is never greedy or selfish. He is never impatient or rude. Or, when he is, he is only in the best way. I love him, I love him, I love him. And as we move together, I tell him. I pant above his head, my hands wrapped around his shoulders, cradling the back of his head. His bare chest and back is a sight to behold, his tattoos wrapping around the sides of his chest and shoulders.
“I love you back, Riley,” comes his breathless response.
Each movement of his tongue sets off tiny wildfires inside me. The more he licks, the faster I unravel. “Mostly, I love how you make me come so quickly,” I blurt out and laugh in his ear, maybe a little too loud. He makes me come faster than I ever have before. It only takes a good minute.
Jae’s laugh is a literal ha-ha.
“You’re funny,” he coos, climbing out from under me and leaning back on his knees while I prop myself up on my elbows. He wipes my wetness from his mouth before climbing above me to kiss my lips.
He walks around the side of the bed and makes himself comfortable with his back against the wooden headboard and pulls my back to his chest. I can feel the heat radiating off his body like he is the sun, and I can feel him growing harder the more I lean into his pull.
I feel no pressure to initiate or to continue, but after he treats me so well, all I want to do is return the favor. It’s always like this. He takes care of me first, then him. As I turn to face him, he’s massaging my shoulders, my back, my hips. My bones have never felt so good.
“What do you want, Jae?” I ask him in a low whisper.
“Anything you’ll give me.”
I rest on my knees as I hover over him, ready to take him in. He holds my hips steady while I slide over his length, a low groan emitting from somewhere deep in his throat. Thank goodness I started birth control last month. I rock and buck my hips, and when Jae’s eyes flutter closed, I know I’ve done my job well.
By the time we finish, blue hour is just taking hold, and Jae’s face is more lit by moonlight than by sunshine. He’s cradling me in his arms one second and hauling me up the next.
“Paint me something.”
“Now?”
“Yes.” Jae pauses for a moment and bats his long eyelashes that no man truly ever deserves to have. “For me?”
With a playful groan, I pull on my panties and T before we make our way through the construction zone that is Jae’s apartment. The place was almost sterile when he moved in, but as more life flows into it, it’s becoming something to appreciate. Jae follows me closely through the apartment to the brand-new studio.
Jae pulls a small set of acrylic paints and brushes out from under the newly installed sink, and hands me a small 8x10 canvas. I sit cross legged, using the floor as my easel.
“What should I paint?” I ask him, as he sits attentively across from me.
“Anything you want.”
“That’s always your answer,” I say snarkily, recalling how he said that not long ago—in a far different context.
I ponder for a moment. What does my heart want to paint? My heart is bursting with a thousand colors, but I only have a meager ten to choose from. I opt for the bright orange. If I am a cool blue, Jae is a bright orange. His light is never ending, never ceasing. Everything about him screams light and life.
I squeeze a bit of orange, a bit of brown and a bit of green onto my canvas, using it as a mixing palette in a pinch. With the deeper orange, I paint the petals of a tiger lily, and another and another. With a flick of my wrist, they begin to take form. I slough on the green, mixing it with brown to form the stem.
“How’d you do that so fast?” Jae asks me, fascinated as I turn the canvas towards him, a single orange lily staring back at him.
“Lots of practice,” I tell him, scootching closer, to be cradled in his arms. “I’ll teach you one day.”
“Promise?” He rests his head on top of mine.
“Promise,” I agree. “When I bring my supplies, I fully expect you to learn.” I laugh a laugh sweeter than cotton candy.
Before I lose the courage to ask, I sputter out, “Can we install Grant’s cabinets here?”
“If that’s what you want,” Jae responds, his voice settled.
I look around the apartment, taking in the scene.
The corner unit apartment opens up into the open concept kitchen that looks into the main living room, with the studio space off to the side, enclosed by two French doors. The first hall to the right of the kitchen leads down to the main bedroom with the master bath. The second hall to the left leads to the second and third bedrooms, connected by a jack and jill bathroom, one of which will be used by Jae’s mother.
The kitchen closely resembles Jae’s old kitchen, with many of the same appliances and gadgets and dining room table. His leather sofa sits prominently in the middle of his living room, facing an out-of-commission fireplace with the TV mounted above the mantle. It is very much Jae’s apartment.
And soon it will be mine.
“That’s what I want.”