At the forefront of my mind throughout the night, is Grant. The way he takes care of me leaves a fuzzy feeling between casual conversations. But in the background of my mind, is my assignment. When I remember how effortlessly he creates art, the itch to ask for advice emerges again, but I push it down.
He says it’s best for me to get out of my head, so I do. But it’s second nature, especially after discussing the importance of my culture and family, to have that desire for success floating around my thoughts.
Throughout the night, I hang onto Grant’s every word. I unconsciously wait, hope, that it’ll spark inspiration for my third act and tell me what to do.
Hours later, with my clothes strewn across his hardwood floors, I’m still don’t know what to write next. I lean my head onto Grant’s chest, letting his arms wrap around me and tell myself that even if I can’t figure this out now, it’s him I can put my faith into.
If not myself, Grant will be able to lead me to the success I so desperately need.
nineteen
GRANT
Gettinghard in the middle of the mall isn’t ideal, even if Lily makes it so fucking easy.
It was my idea to come here. After learning about her parents a week ago, what they mean to her, and how important her culture is, I knew having them return to Boston was special to Liliana. When I said we should get them a welcome back gift, she beamed.
There wasn’t any sort of competition going on, but in that moment it felt like I won.
Getting the gifts was simple. I can’t think of anything more suited for a couple of professors than matching custom notebooks.
It’s the aftermath that’s proving to be difficult. After stressed out phone calls and late night study sessions, she finally managed to wrap up her third act draft yesterday. It was tiring for me, to see her struggle so much and provide every piece of advice I could to get her to the end. Eventually, though, we made it happen, and I intend on rewarding her for it.
I can’t stop myself when we pass by a store and see something she would like in the window. I can’t help myself when she walks out of the dressing room looking as beautiful as she does.
“Do you like it?” Lily twirls around in the ruffled blue dress that’s as gorgeous on her as the last three items she tried on.
Her wide smile sends a pang of affection through my body and down to the head of my cock. I want to kiss her on the forehead and get on my knees for her in the fitting room, all at the same time.
“I love it.” I answer her, willing my hard-on to get a grip on the very public area we’re in. “You should get it.”
Yellow painted fingers move towards the dress’ price tag, and I lightly lead them away. This store is on the higher end, but there was a ruffled baby pink top in the shop display, and everything about it had my girl’s name on it. I wasn’t leaving the mall without it being hers.
She doesn’t seem to have the same idea. “I’m not letting you buy anything for me without knowing the price.”
“I couldn’t give a shit about the price.” Not when a dress like this exists, that’s so painfully Liliana with its frilly fabric and pastel color. Not when her sun-kissed skin glows so bright in it. “It’s made for you. It could be a thousand dollars and that’d be a steal for how good you look in it.”
Her cheeks turn the dusty shade of pink that is starting to become my favorite color, and I rub my thumb over the hue.
“I can’t take your money.”
“Of course you can.”
“This dress could cost an exorbitant amount of money.”
“I don’t know what that word means.” I continue before she can’t distract me with a vocabulary lesson. “But regardless, it doesn’t matter. It’s going on an unlimited credit card anyways.”
“Grant.” She puts her hands on her hips, cocking to the side sassily.
I mirror her exactly and refuse to back down. “Lily.”
Her head shakes, but her grin doesn’t fade.
“You’re impossible.”
“I’m yours.”
We haven’t discussed how serious this is between us. Whether it’s two friends with crazy sexual chemistry, or if she wants commitments and labels.
