She lightly squeezed my shoulder. “You better not. Now answer my question.”
“I had a girlfriend who loved to go dancing. Very Type A. She never saw a problem that didn’t have a solution, so she took me to a dance studio and made me level up.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Two years ago, I think.”
“What happened? Was she too intense for you?”
“No. She took a career move to Washington D.C.”
Grace looked up at me. “And you were okay with that?”
I didn’t know how to answer without sounding like a heartless monster. I hadn’t loved her. And looking at Grace, I knew with frightening clarity that I hadn’t even come close. “We’d only been dating a few months. I was okay with her going off to find what she needed. It wasn’t me.”
“And now you can dance.”
“And now I can dance. It’s a useful skill.”
Grace looked away from me. “I’ll bet. I feel like I’ve been tricked, but it’s kind of hard to care. I haven’t danced like this in… forever.”
“Rob wasn’t a dancer?” I hated bringing up her ex, but he was a big part of her history.
“No. Not at all.” She cleared her throat. “Dean, I’ve been keeping you at arms-length for a long time. You’ve been Isaac’s friend and Piper’s friend, but not really mine. And I don’t know what changing that would look like. I just want you to know I’m sorry if I’ve been… I don’t know. Cold, I guess.”
Her gaze was fixed on the far wall, and there was a tension running through her body that hadn’t been there a moment ago. This was a big admission for her. I was tempted to delve deeper, to see if I could find out why she chose to shut me out for so long, but treading lightly was the better option.
“Our friendship can look like whatever you want it to, Grace. Maybe it can start with hiking together tomorrow?”
She turned to meet my eyes. “I’m planning on it.”
The song ended, and we both held still, waiting for the next one. I could live with a few more slow songs if it meant holding her a little longer.
Alas, Dua Lipa’s “Dance the Night” started up, making us both laugh.
“Spotify’s gone rogue. Piper and I listen to this song a lot.”
She ran off to stop the music, leaving me with a chance to run my hands through my hair and not be okay for a minute. No, I didn’t know what Grace wanted from me. I hadn’t the faintest idea. And yet, all I wanted was more time with her until I figured it out.
Chapter 15 – Grace
Hiking was the type of activity that separated the men from the boys. Or in our case, the women swatting at invisible flies and stopping to take selfies from the go-getters who didn’t have the decency to wait on everyone else.
I just wanted to take it all in. I’d spent hours prepping flower arrangements at the shop so that when my part-timers came in, they could stay at the front counter. On Saturdays, we had a lot of last-minute walk-ins, and if they didn’t see anyone at the counter, they’d walk right back out.
We couldn’t have asked for better weather for a hike. The first week of March in Arizona is what picture postcards are made of. Seventy degrees with the bluest skies and the fluffiest clouds. Our green was a deep sage, not flashy or lush, but tucked against red rock and yellow wildflowers, it held its own kind of wild beauty.
Dean and I started out trying to encourage the laggers to keep up with everyone else, but eventually we ended up in the middle of the pack with Jackson, Lacey, and Stella. They had questions for us, and we had nowhere to hide. Basically, we were contestants on their favorite game show,Tell Us Everything and Don’t Leave Out Any Details.
“You two have never dated each other?” Lacey asked.
“No,” I assured her. “And we’re not dating now. We’re friends.” At least I could say that last part with conviction now.
“Mmm.” Jackson didn’t look persuaded. Next, he’d be asking us to prove it by getting in each other’s personal space and gauging our reactions.
“And Dean’s dad is your godfather?” Stella asked. She was at the front of our group, keeping watch for the spiky little balls that came off the jumping cholla cactus and rolled into the trail. Getting one attached to your shoe was not pleasant.
I looked over at Dean and motioned that I’d take this question, too. “It’s not an official title. We’re not even Catholic. I just didn’t know what else to call him. Uncle didn’t feel right. I’m not a fan of almost step-dad. Our parents weren’t even engaged. They just dated for a while.”
