Chapter 29 #2
“You asshole, no I’m not.”
I shot her a flat look, sitting up a bit straighter. “Just yesterday you asked me to take you to the ER.”
She stomped her foot. “It could’ve been serious!”
“It was a headache.”
“Whatever,” she muttered, sitting on the floor next to me. “I’m getting boils on my feet and when they get infected and I die, you’re going to be real sorry.”
“Can you pass me a thinner brush?” I asked, ignoring her antics.
She huffed, passing me the paintbrush, and I smiled. I loved Ella like this: silly and a little sleep-drunk. The booksellers left about thirty minutes ago and we pushed some of the tables apart on the second floor to create a space to work.
We were painting the ticket booth for the fair.
It’d sit outside and people who had tickets could check in, or we’d allow walk-ups.
Each attendee would be given a schedule of events, too.
David and I had worked on building this together last week and it looked pretty good.
It was sitting on top of plenty of cardboard so we didn’t stain the floor.
I was painting the word “Tickets” for the top of the booth, while Ella painted horizontal red-and-white stripes on the booth itself. I carefully painted over the stenciled letters as Ella watched. I could feel her gaze on me and when I nearly went outside the lines, she inhaled sharply.
“Oh my God,” I said, exasperated.
“I’m sorry!” she said. “But you almost messed it all up!”
“Then you do it.” I shoved the paintbrush toward her.
She shoved it back. “We talked about this. I could never be a brain surgeon with my shaky hands.”
“And we also talked about this: I can’t focus if you’re watching me.”
“Well maybe I like watching you,” she huffed. “Have you ever thought of that?”
“All the time,” I muttered. Her head snapped up at this, but I quickly added, “C’mon, let’s try to finish this tonight.”
We spent the next hour painting, talking about anything that came to mind.
By far, my favorite thing about my relationship with Ella was how we could talk for hours without ever running out of things to say.
I used to second-guess myself when I first got here, but nowadays, I never did.
Especially with Ella. Taylor Swift was playing softly in the background since Ella was very particular about music and claimed she couldn’t bear to listen to Luke Bryan (even though I insisted I wasn’t a fan either).
“Maybe we should sell more merch,” I murmured as we painted. “We could get a cheaper quality and—”
“No way. Leo always used to say, ‘Keep the main thing the main thing.’ Books are the main thing here. We have enough merch.”
“God, he used to say that all the time.” I placed the brush in a water cup, sitting back on my feet.
“Guess we’re living that out, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
Ella looked up at me through her lashes, her paintbrush stuck in midair. “The book fair is the main thing right now. And if it wasn’t, I suspect something else would be.”
I paused at that. “Yeah, it would be.”
We held each other’s gaze, neither of us saying anything. Even though I wanted to. I wanted to tell her just how badly I wanted her to be my main thing. That I wanted to stay here and try it out and throw my life away in favor of this new one I was beginning to love.
And for the first time in my life, I thought, Fuck it.
“I know it’s not the right time,” I said gently. Ella sat up and dumped her paintbrush in her water cup, too. “And we’ve got weeks of craziness ahead of us, but Carmella … I can’t stop thinking about that kiss.”
She flushed when I said her first name, like she always did. I savored that look and told myself that on the loneliest days in Tennessee, I’d think of exactly that.
“Henry, it’s all I think about.” Ella dropped her face into her hands, trying to hide the faint blush I spotted blooming on her cheeks. “I’m shelving in Religion and I think about it. I’m on the subway watching someone do flips and I think about it. I’m in bed and I—”
I had been waiting and wanting that green light, and that was all I needed to hear. I reached over and took her face in my hands, slanting my mouth over hers.
She responded immediately, her hands falling to my shoulders. As her mouth moved against mine, slowly but surely, like she didn’t want to forget a single moment, my hands fell to her waist, pulling her closer.
It felt like my very first kiss. Probably the first one that mattered. Not that the one in the bathroom didn’t count for anything, but knowing Ella now made it all the better.
I was taking cues from her, trying to memorize what she liked so I could perfect it.
I’d examine the way her mouth pressed against mine, quickly, then slowly and holding.
I’d make flashcards of the way she hesitantly opened her mouth before she changed her mind, emboldened, and flicked her tongue against mine.
She let out a soft sigh when I tugged on her bottom lip.
“I can’t get enough of you, Carmella,” I murmured against her lips. My hand was tangled in her hair as I began peppering kisses against her neck, staying put when I found the spot that made her lean her head back with a sigh. “I think I’ve wanted you since you attacked me in the subway station.”
She huffed out a laugh, bordering on a groan. “Will I ever live that down?”
“Best fucking moment of my life,” I said sincerely.
Ella pulled back, meeting my gaze. “I don’t want to wait until the fair is all said and done and then we peter out. I don’t want to live like this, on a wire just waiting—”
I cut her off with a kiss. “Carmella, I’m not even going to wait until we get out of this fucking bookstore with the way I’ve been wanting you.”