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I cupped her knee with my hand, my thumb stroking her soft skin. “When I’m with you, I feel like I’m in a different world. Like my whole life, I’ve been living in black-and-white, and then you came along and gave everything color. You know what I mean?”
She bit her lip, not responding, and maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was way off the mark and this sketch was just that. A sketch. I recoiled my hand. “It’s okay if you don’t feel like—”
“No. Jason, no.” She launched herself into my lap. “You make me so happy it hurts. At the end of the night, my cheeks get sore from smiling so much. You kiss me, and my chest feels like it’s going to explode. I miss you when we’re not together, and when we are, I wish I never had to leave.” She rested her forehead against mine, her voice wavering with emotion. “It scares me that in just a couple of weeks, I feel so attached to you.”
“And me to you,” I said, holding her hands against my chest.
“But I’m afraid.” She tried to pull away, but I held on tighter. “I don’t want to drown in this.”
“I won’t let you. I’m not letting you go, Gemma.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
Jason
A week later, I brought lunch to Gemma at Bare Necessities. With October in full force now, it was way too chilly to eat outside, so we sat down next to each other in an aisle between the all-natural pet supplies and gluten-free cereals.
“Where are we going tonight?” she asked, leaning against a big bag of dog food.
I shoved a piece of sushi into my mouth. “Some steak place.”
She picked at her avocado roll. “I’ll be eating a cup of soup, I guess.”
“It’s Frank’s birthday, his choice. For your birthday, you can take us to some tofu place if that’s what you want.” I poked her with chopsticks. “You could always order a New York strip and call it a day.”
She snorted. “I’ll stick with the breadsticks.”
“So, what did your mom say about us?” I asked, dipping a piece of my roll in soy sauce.
Gemma stared at her food like she was dissecting it for a biology assignment.
“Oh, come on. I thought you were going to tell her yesterday.”
“I was. I didn’t.”
“Chicken.”
Her mouth snapped open to argue, but she shut it just as fast, and I clacked my chopsticks at her.
“She’ll eventually figure it out since we’ll continue to go places together, and I’ll be…I don’t know, holding your hand, kissing you.”
She pouted. “She’s going to make a big deal out of it.”
“I am a pretty big deal.” I shrugged, and Gemma grumbled.
“Isn’t your neck tired from holding up that big head?”
I leaned toward her as if to kiss her cheek but instead grabbed the last piece of her roll. “Kinda.”
She swatted at me, our usual game. Me stealing her food, her pretending she was actually going to eat it. “Pick me up at six?”
I nodded, swallowing the roll in one bite. “Make sure you bring some slippers or something. I have no socks left since you keep taking all of mine.” When she sighed, I raised my brow. “What?”
“I’m always staying over at your house,” she said, and I stared at her blandly because, yes, that was true. She went on. “It’s a little one-sided, don’t you think? Me always having to pack a bag. Why don’t you like staying at my apartment?”
“It’s not that I don’t like staying there. It’s that—” I engulfed her in my arms, pulling her close “—I need a big old bed to sleep in. Your bed is too small, Goldilocks, but my bed is just right.”
“I’m serious, Jason.” She shoved away from me. “I’m always staying at your place. I want you to stay with me tonight.”
