“Um,” I say, as I peer over just a tiny bit farther. “I guess I like the way the light makes shadows around the space.” The contrast of the light and dark around the room is rather striking.
“Good,” he says. “What else do you see?”
His breath is on my neck again, and oh wow, he smells good. Soap and a bit of fresh-cut grass. Which would make sense since we were in Central Park not too long ago. With my luck I probably picked up the not-so-lovely smells of the city, like eau de body odor or essence of homeless guy. Suddenly the closeness of him is making me feel rather self-conscious.
“Did I lose you?” Jay asks, nudging me a little to the side so he can see my face, his hands still on my hips, holding me steady.
“Sorry,” I say, feeling like such a girl right now. I am one, so this isn’t too shocking. “It’s not quite as scary when I don’t focus on how far down everything is.”
“Great,” he says, pulling away from me. “You passed. Can I interest you in some Van Gogh?” he says as I turn around and face him.
“Sounds Van Good,” I say, and then cringe at my terrible pun. I can’t believe I just went there.
“Ah, young grasshopper, you are learning,” Jay says in a terrible Japanese accent.
