It really is quiet back here.I can’t hear anything except the hiss of white noise.
“Is that all?”I ask.
He does look at me now.And the surprise changes into annoyance.“Yeah, that seems like enough, don’t you think?”
“Not really,” I say.“We’ll figure it out.”
“It’s not something you can figure out.”
“Why not?”
He opens his mouth.And then he lets out a noise that would have gotten him a slipper to the ass.
“You’re not perfect,” I say.“Neither am I.But you told me one time that anybody decent would be patient with me.Help me figure it out.”I wait, but he’s still staring at me.“Why can’t we do that for each other?”
He rubs his eyes.They’re red, but he’s not crying anymore.His voice is scratchy when he says, “I don’t know.”
And I’m guessing that means a lot of things.All the things he feels like he doesn’t know, but he should.
So, I say, “That’s okay.Why don’t you come over here?”
It takes him a while, but he does.
“You can put your arms around me,” I say.
He’s slower this time.But when he does, I move into him, pressing against him.We’re almost the same height, and I like how my forehead rests against his.
“You can kiss me,” I whisper.
He closes his eyes, and I wonder if maybe that’s the no.
But then his lips touch mine.
It’s what a first kiss should be: it’s gentle, tentative, like he’s asking me something.But then it grows stronger.His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer.He must be crying again because his cheeks are wet.
When he pulls back, it’s only by a few inches, so I feel his breath when he whispers, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”And then I feel like I have to be honest, so I say, “I think I figured out how to get that drawer out.”
He laughs for a long time about that, but he doesn’t let me go.
“I’m sorry about WISP,” I say.“I’m sorry I messed everything up for you.”
Gray shakes his head.“Fields was an asshole.Unfortunately, he was a rich asshole.It’s okay; WISP did some good work, and that’s what matters.I wish I could keep it open, but a detective’s salary isn’t exactly enough to run it on my own.”
“Gray,” I say, because he’s what Gran would call a dum-dum sometimes.“You don’t have to do it on your own.”
26
Gray
A month later, we’re backstage at the ballroom in the Acadia, and my thighs are shaking like a bride on her wedding night.I try to focus on Sammy as he works on my bow tie.
“You look very handsome,” he says.
Hey, look at that.I didn’t even have to prompt him.
“My thighs are quivering like a bride on her wedding night,” I say because I likequiveringbetter.
