My breath came out quietly, and I blinked slowly, trying to gather myself. I turned my attention to him, reaching for my wine so I could drink instead of talk. One and a half glasses in and I was hardly feeling anything, which should have been good, but felt anything but. More wine would have lubricated my tongue in a way that would have made the conversation a lot easier for me to have. The lack of liquid courage in my veins had me second-guessing myself more than I liked. And I still didn’t know what it was about him that made me do that.
Probably that he’s perfect,my brain supplied the answer.
And it was true.
What had he said about Rome? That he was a good man but not good for him? Well, Hendrix was both. He was a good man and he was good for me, and would I have lived my entire life differently if I’d known someone like him existed? Hell, I didn’t know. Maybe. It was idealistic, but he deserved that. Maybe I deserved that too.
“If it’s ever too much, you have to stop me,” I said.
“What do I do if it’s not enough?”
My eyes closed on their own, and I bit back a slew of expletives.
Like I said…perfect.
“Then you ask me for what you want and I’ll decide if you deserve it.”
Now it was his turn to curse under his breath.
“I’d like to try a little more,” he rasped. “Tonight, at least.”
“What does more look like to you?”
More could have been a thousand things and for as far as I wanted to go, I didn’t want it to be too far. Too outrageous. Too demanding.
You ask for so much and you give so little.
Something Grayson had said to me once flooded back into my mind, an unwelcome reminder of what my pride and my preferences got me sometimes. The shitty things he’d said to me in an argument from five years ago had no place hovering over a table shared with a man like Hendrix, though.
“Actually.” I raised a finger in pause. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”
Quickly, I shoved my chair back, snaking my way across the patio and into the restaurant in search of the bathrooms. If I smoked, I’d have wanted one, but I didn’t. The best I could find was a handicapped bathroom stall and a locking door that thankfully reached from the floor to the ceiling.
I leaned against the wall and fished my phone out of my pocket, calling Grayson, who answered on the second ring.
“Aren’t you on a date?” he greeted.
“When you told me I gave too little, did you mean it?” I blurted.
“When on earth did I say that to you?”
“Back like…I don’t know. Before. When we were still trying to make a go of it.”
Grayson’s laugh was bitter and loud in my ear. “Why are you calling me, Miles?”
“Did I give too little?” I asked again. “Did I not do enough to show you how much I loved you?”
“I never doubted you loved me.” He sighed, and I could picture the tired look that had to sit on his face. “We were young and that was a shit thing to say. I was upset that things between us weren’t working, but it wasn’t your fault.”
“Could I have done more?”
“Truthfully, no.” Grayson answered me quickly, no doubt in the words. “You and I are friends, but that’s where our compatibility ends. If you had done more or done different, it wouldn’t have been authentic, and that would have tainted the love, I think.”
“Are you just saying that?” I banged my head against the cool, tiled wall, feeling the way the thump reverberated through my skull and through my spine.
“Miles, where is Hendrix?”
“He’s at the table.”
