The art of awkward affec.., p.38
The Art of Awkward Affection: A Romantic Comedy, page 38
I stared down at the note in my hand, the rain making the ink run on the paper. I pulled my poncho hood over my head, my fingers numb and fumbling.
Ahead of me, Grayson was a silhouette in the dull light from the streetlamps.
I couldn’t tell if it was the rain or if it was tears running down my face.
Grayson paused then turned back, jogging across the soggy ground.
“Lexi! Lexi, wait,” he called.
He threw the umbrella down and cupped my face.
“Lexi,” he said, the rain pelting his face. His chest was rising and falling, his eyes frantic.
“Did you know,” he said, “that you are the first person to ever say you loved me?”
“That’s really sad,” I said, a lump forming in my throat.
His hands fell to his sides.
“I used to think that you were the only person I had ever loved. But that’s a lot to put on someone, isn’t it? Even you. But you helped me realize that there are other people in my life that I care about and who care about me. You did that for me; you expanded my world, brought me a type of peace I didn’t think I would ever be able to experience. I’m sorry I said that you ruined my life, because you didn’t. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” His eyes were sorrowful.
“In fact,” he said, his voice catching, “you’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me. I know I don’t deserve it, and I know that you deserve better than me, but I’m a selfish, horrible person, and I want you to be there with me, telling me you love me every day. Because I love you obsessively, deeply, horribly, and I don’t want to leave here without you.”
“Grayson—”
“Trust me, I know that’s not really your problem,” he added. “I can’t force you to forgive me, no matter how much money I throw at you, or what I promise. More than I want to be happy, I want you to be happy, and if that’s with Spencer, then so be it. You deserve to be happy.”
“Whoa, whoa! In no reality am I dating Spencer. I have had enough awkward moments this year and am now in my season of boring introversion. I will manage to contain myself. Besides,” I added with a smirk, “Spencer’s not the hottest Richmond brother.”
Grayson’s expression was cautiously hopeful.
“I don’t have anything worthwhile to offer you.”
“You mean besides being blessed with height, good looks, a hot body, and billions of dollars? The humblebragging isn’t a good look on you.”
Grayson gave me a crooked smile.
I swiped a lock of his wet hair off his forehead.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slightly soggy note.
Be Mine.
I hesitated as I looked at the note, thinking about what my mom had said, that maybe some things just weren’t meant to be.
I shook my head.
He was crushed.
“I think that maybe we need accept that we were impactful people in each other’s lives and move on,” I told him, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I can’t,” he sobbed. He fell to his knees in front of me. “Lexi, I can’t.”
“Sometimes self-care is saying no,” I said gently. “We can still be friends.”
“Lexi,” he said simply as the rain drenched him. “I don’t want to be your friend. I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to bring you coffee in that eyesore of a mug you like. I want to tell you every day that I love you. I want you to know that you’re the most important person in my life. I want to adopt a plant with you or a puppy or have a baby with you. I want to marry you. I want you to be mine for the rest of my life.”
He grabbed my hands.
“People like to say that they are willing to die for the person they love, but dying’s easy. I will live for you, really live. I’ll shop for furniture and memorize all the songs you love and surprise you with weekends in Florida to visit your parents. I’ll write you love notes and leave them in your underwear drawer, and yeah, occasionally they’ll be snarky and they’ll probably be written in black ink, but sometimes to surprise you I’ll steal one of your pink gel pens and write you a love poem.”
He kissed my hand.
“Lexi, I love you, not just for what you’ve done for me—expanding my world, giving me my family, my friends, enriching my life—but for who you are. Your crazy red hair that I love, the way you laugh when you find something utterly delightful, the way you prop your sunglasses on your nose, the way you flop on a towel on the beach like you’re in heaven.”
Gosh, I was still so in love with this man.
“You want us to move on, taking the knowledge that we’ve impacted the other with us into the future. But I can’t. Sure, I might continue to exist, perhaps be happy eventually, but I won’t be whole, not like I am with you. You fit perfectly in my heart. But if you really want me to go,” he said, standing up, “I will. I don’t want to be like my father, ruining your life with my obsession.”
Green eyes bored into mine.
“Know this. I will always love you. I will always wait for you—ten, twenty, thirty, forty years, when we’re old and gray and you decide you want to give me another shot, I’ll be waiting there for you. I’ll always wait for you. Even though you deserve better. Maybe you’ll find someone who loves you more than me. But I’ll never find anyone I love more than you. I’ll always love you, Lexi.” He reached out to stroke my face gently, his fingers trailing through the rain droplets.
I was crying now, my hands over my face. Did I really want to walk away from Grayson? I wondered what my life would be like. Would I meet someone else? Maybe, or maybe not. Would I be happy? Sure. I could find happiness anywhere. But I didn’t think I’d ever find what I had with Grayson. I imagined him waiting, waiting, for years, decades, like he’d done for his mom. I knew he meant it: He would wait for me forever.
And now I was full on, snot running down my face, sobbing.
“You know,” I said, reaching in my pocket for a soggy tissue. “Someone once told me to stop being so naïve.”
“He might have been incorrect,” Grayson said softly.
“I think he was,” I told him. “Because I believe in fairy tales and handsome heroes with tragic backstories and happily ever afters. I believe in love, and I believe that we can become better people.”
“Lexi, I want to be your happily ever after,” Grayson said, resting his hands on my shoulders.
“I also believe I love you, and I believe that you make me happy,” I said, smiling up at him. “I want a happily ever after, but more importantly, I want it with you.”
He gathered me against him, tipped my head back, and kissed me, softly at first then harder like he never wanted to let me go, like he was finally home.
“I love you,” he breathed. “You are my bliss.”
“And you’re my happy ending.”
Grayson kissed me again, swinging me around.
And sure, it wasn’t warm romance-movie rain—it was an unseasonably cold torrential downpour—but a moment, a person, didn’t need to be perfect to be wonderful.
Grayson set me down.
“Your poor suit. The dry cleaners are going to be annoyed,” I said, trying to brush the mud off.
He kissed me again.
“Don’t worry about that. You’re not my assistant anymore. You’re my girlfriend, and I want to make you happy and give you anything your heart desires.”
“I’m your girlfriend, and I will take your clothes to the dry cleaner,” I sniffed, “especially since clearly you’re the type of man who sleeps with his assistants.”
I slapped him on his backside.
He grinned at me then chased down his umbrella, under which several iguanas were cowering.
I opened up the lid on the vented container, and he gently placed them inside.
“Wait, Grayson,” I said in shock. “It’s Tuesday. Did you miss lunch with your mom for this?”
“I haven’t been going,” he admitted. “Alessio just isn’t the same without you. Anyway, my mom didn’t have lunch today either.” He waited a beat. “She showed up at my office and wanted to talk.”
“Oh my gosh!” I gasped. “You saw your mom. That’s amazing.” I wrapped my arms around him, giving him a big hug.
“I am so happy for you,” I told him, trying and failing not to cry.
“Yeah,” he said, wiping my face with his thumb and nodding. “Yeah, it was amazing. And it’s all thanks to you. Siobhan said she really liked you, said you’re perfect for me.”
“And you’re perfect for me.”
He leaned down and kissed me again. His mouth was warm, and I let the strength of him envelop me.
“Okay, so there is one thing I want, actually.”
“Anything.”
“You, me, Crumpet, Disney.”
“I will take you to Disney. I’ll rent out the whole park for a night,” he promised.
“As much as I want to have the whole park to myself, you have to have the full Disney experience,” I told him. “That means lines, that means screaming children, and that means walking around in mouse ears, eating giant turkey legs at nine in the morning.”
He sucked in a breath.
“No take-backs!”
68
GRAYSON
Lexi’s parents were not happy to see me when I carried the stacks of large plastic containers into the Disney-themed kitchen.
I set the containers carefully in the corner of the adjacent mudroom while her parents glared at me.
“Mr. and Mrs. Collins.” I cleared my throat. “I understand I hurt your daughter, and by proxy you, very much with my actions, and I am deeply sorry and will be happy to make it up to you in any way you’d like. I know you hate me for harming your daughter, and I don’t blame you. I’m glad Lexi has you all in her corner. You’re good parents,” I told them.
“Turn those frowns upside down. Grayson is very sorry,” Lexi said, skipping into the kitchen. She had changed into dry clothes. “He apologized.”
“Did he roll around in the mud groveling?” her mom asked, frowning.
Lexi took my arm while I silently dripped on the tile floor.
“Awkward,” she said out of the side of her mouth.
Her dad was the first to relent.
“Squeaky Mouse hasn’t been this happy since that third Cinderella movie came out, so I guess I can forgive and forget,” Barry said begrudgingly. “But by golly, don’t do it again. This is Florida, and I will feed you to the alligators.”
“Barry,” Lexi’s mother scolded. “You can’t feed Grayson to the gators. He’s too big. They’ll leave chewed-up parts everywhere. Not to mention, Lexi heard you, and she can’t keep a secret to save her life. No, you poison him and bury him in the orchard.”
I bit back a curse.
“This is very unusual behavior for them,” Lexi whispered to me.
“Oh, my casserole is burning!” Cindy rushed to the oven.
“Save the burned bits for Grayson,” Barry said.
“Lexi, why don’t you help Grayson find some dry clothes then hand him a mop so he can clean up the mud he got on my floors,” Cindy said.
I followed her down the narrow hallway to what I assumed was her parents’ room.
“Full disclosure, my dad bought this outfit for you. You didn’t have a chance to wear it fishing.” She whipped open the doors to a shallow closet. “Ta-da!”
“Are those pajamas?”
“No, this is outdoor wear,” she said, holding up the neon-colored matching short-and-shirt set.
“I’d rather freeze in my suit.”
“You’ll get pneumonia,” Lexi said, unbuttoning my jacket. “Also, this outfit comes with matching socks.”
“Are you sure you want to take me back?” I whispered, gathering her in my arms.
I kissed her quietly, softly, as she ran her hands up my bare chest.
“I want you,” I murmured, “but your mom’s casserole is getting cold.”
“You know, I never thought I’d say this,” she whispered, “but I’m ready to go back to Manhattan.”
Ten minutes and a blow dryer later, I sat down at the table in the vibrant Hawaiian shirt and shorts.
“I hope your suit isn’t ruined,” Cindy said as she dished up a heaping helping of seafood casserole. “You can’t be out in a storm like this without a poncho. Barry, don’t we have an extra poncho for Grayson?”
“Dad, no,” Lexi said as his face lit up with a gleeful smile.
“I have the perfect poncho.”
“Grayson’s not—”
Barry came running back in the kitchen. “Ta-da!”
He unfurled a black-and-red poncho decorated with giant mouse ears.
“It’s perfect,” I said diplomatically. “Thank you.”
“You don’t like Disney,” Lexi argued.
“Actually,” I said, “It’s grown on me. It might be genetic. My great-grandfather was apparently a big Disney fan.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I smiled, not sure if I felt sad or happy. “My mom gave me a picture of him.”
Lexi’s eyes shone.
“That’s awesome.”
I pulled out my phone to show her and her parents the picture I’d scanned.
“Aww,” Cindy and Barry cooed. “You have his smile.”
“Funny. That’s what my mom said.” I took the phone back and pocketed it.
Cindy dabbed her eyes.
“Eat,” she said, picking up my fork and handing it to me. “Lexi, have some salad. Grayson, don’t take the burned piece. You’re our guest.”
“Be our guest!” Lexi’s dad broke out in song. I joined him while Lexi and her mom clapped along, laughing in delight.
“We should do a movie marathon tomorrow.” Her dad slapped the table.
“Actually, I’m flying back to Manhattan tomorrow with Grayson so I don’t have to worry about booking an airline ticket,” Lexi told her parents.
“You should come visit,” I told them. “I’ll send the plane for you.”
“We need to buy some furniture first,” Lexi said. “Your penthouse is pathologically empty.”
“Or it’s a thoughtfully provided blank canvas for you to work, Lexi.” I smiled at her. “Every negative has the opportunity to be a positive if you just expand your mind.”
Her parents beamed at me.
“Doesn’t Grayson have a wonderfully positive attitude?”
The next afternoon I carried Lexi’s things into the penthouse. Gizzy lumbered behind us. The warm weather had returned, and I coaxed him out onto the terrace.
“I’m so glad to be home,” Lexi shouted in the empty penthouse.
“I thought Dudley Grove was home,” I reminded her.
“It is, but in case you didn’t notice, it’s not like I’m able to decorate the bungalow the way I want it.”
“Not enough glitter?” I asked wryly.
She stuck her tongue out at me.
“I’ll have you know I have sophisticated design taste.”
“Someone is going to make a very good corporate wife,” I said, tangling her in my arms.
“Ooh, I wonder who that could be.” She laughed when I tipped her over. “Guess I have to nix my princess theme idea.”
“I’m buying a house in Dudley Grove,” I told her as I led her upstairs. “So I can have a bed I can fuck you on without director’s commentary from your parents. Feel free to decorate that to your princess-obsessed heart’s content.”
She took a flying leap to the bed.
“We’re going to have Little Mermaid sheets.”
“You can have whatever you want.” I leaned in to kiss her hungrily.
She raised an eyebrow and tossed the last of her clothes aside.
“Whatever I want?” she said against my mouth as I untied the ribbons on her sundress.
“I already agreed to the Disney trip,” I reminded her, unhooking her bra. “So please show mercy on me.”
Lexi grabbed my hands, running them up her soft curves to her tits. “All I want is you,” she said softly, lovingly, a beautiful caress.
Naked and alluring, the sight of her made me wonder how stupid I was to ever have risked losing something so goddamn beautiful.
I hurriedly took my shirt off, tossed it to the side, and flipped her over. We shared another kiss, as dizzying as the first time.
Lexi giggled playfully as I rained kisses down her body—on her neck, her collar, her shoulder, to her chest, her breasts, sucking on each of her tits, satisfied when she gasped. The descent continued, going across that soft abdomen of hers and toward my goal.
Her pussy.
Dripping and ready for me as it ever was, I leaned in and planted a kiss right on her clit and watched the pleasure ripple through her. My fingers slid into her, making her good and ready for me.
I sampled her, my tongue darting out to taste her. Her gasps were music to my ears. I let my tongue explore every bit of her before settling on a good, steady pace of it thrusting in and out of her, a tag team with my fingers, the one currently not inside of her teasing her clit.
She tensed up beneath me, her hands, shooting down to take full grips of my hair, pulling at me hard as she moaned for me. I took it as extra evidence I was doing a good job.
The faster I pushed her, the stronger the orgasm started to wrack her. Her most sensitive spots were being overloaded by my love, and she tossed and turned beneath me. Despite the pleasurable torture, she thrust her pussy into my face harder.
It wasn’t long before she was heading for climax. She screamed my name at the top of her lungs, her legs around my head, squeezing me like a fucking vise, all before she gave out and lay flat on her back, breathing heavily.
“Come on,” she urged, “you said anything I want. And I want that d on a silver platter.”
I dropped my slacks, my boxer briefs following, my cock springing up, aching and hard for her.
She pushed herself up, looking between my legs, her smile massive. She licked her lips as she stared at my cock.
I crawled on top of her again, sharing another kiss, embracing her fully. Our tongues entwined. I reached over to my desk to get a condom, only for her to snatch it out of my hand. She tore it open with her teeth and then rolled it down my cock with her hand.
