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“Oh, I was born ready.” He takes my hand. “And don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”
His words echo as we head to the rental counter.
I won’t let you fall . . .
Oh, but Graham, it’s already too late, don’t you see? I’m already falling. Falling so fast and I can’t seem to stop.
But I don’t say any of those things out loud. I just grip his hand, determined to hold tight for the time we have left.
We aren’t disco kings on roller skates. I’m not bopping along like a roller-derby girl, and he’s not a skate god on wheels. We are stiff and silly-looking and laughing more than any other couple on the rink.
And I like it that way.
As I watch him glide unsteadily around the turns, a little clunky at first but a whole lot determined, I find I’m even more attracted to him than I was before we arrived. I love that he’s not amazing at skating. I love that he’s awkward, but he’s doing it anyway. He’s not letting imperfection get in the way of a good time.
And neither am I.
I make it around a few times, skating more comfortably with each lap. Then he skates a few feet in front of me and comes to an only semi-shaky stop.
“Impressive,” I observe.
He holds out a hand. “How about a spin?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “No way. Straight ahead without falling is enough excitement for me.”
“One spin,” his wheedles, fingers curling around mine. “C’mon. No risk, no reward.”
“I’ll fall.”
“You won’t fall.” He takes both my hands, skating slowly in a curve. “I’ve got you, Butterfly. Trust me.”
“I do trust you. Obviously,” I say. My heart jerks as his eyes meet mine and something passes between us, something intimate that makes me forget I can’t spin in skates.
And in that moment, I’m sure he can see right through me, straight to that starry-eyed dreamer who wants so much more from him than seven days. Will she scare him away?
But he just holds on tight and says, “Look at us. We rock.”
We glide faster, spinning in smooth circles, both of us relaxing as we gain confidence. We aren’t going to sign up for synchronized skating any time soon, but I’m smiling, and he’s grinning, and skating is even more fun with him by my side.
So are sleepovers.
And dinners.
And kitty scavenger hunts.
And pancake-making.
New things are better with him too.
Like a certain physical activity he’s introduced me to. One that’s brought me so much closer to him than I ever bargained for.
Love . . . I’ve fallen in love.
But if I tell him I earned an F in keeping my heart out of this deal, I know there’s a good chance I’ll lose him as a friend. Graham has firm boundaries, and I’ve never seen him let a woman as close as I want to be to him.
So close. All the way close.
And I can’t risk that. I care about him too much to excise him from my life by pushing for more than he’s willing to give.
My chest hurts, and a lump forms in my throat. The lump threatens to turn into something more intense, but I swallow it down.
I’m keeping my chin up and my head in the beautiful now, not the uncertain future. When I look back on this magical week, at least I’ll know I soaked it all in, from the first kiss, to hand-holding at the skating rink, to the moment we say goodbye.
Too bad there’s no class that can prepare me to let him go. Of that, I’m sure.
22
Graham
The day is passing too fast. Way too fucking fast.
I want to slow time. Or pull a Groundhog Day, wake up tomorrow, and live this day all over again, just like Bill Murray in the movie, but without the existential angst.
The more I get of CJ without the “just friends” wall that used to stand between us, the more I want of her. She’s like mint chocolate chip ice cream. I could eat a gallon of her without stopping.
A part of me wants to tell her that as we stroll across the Brooklyn Bridge. I want to tell her that her smile makes me hopeful in a way I’ve never been hopeful before, and that having her hand in mine makes me feel like the luckiest bastard on this bridge.
But you don’t say those things to a friend you’re teaching how to screw.
CJ didn’t come to me with a seven-day plan for me to get seven kinds of attached to her. And if I tell her that’s happened, I’ll risk messing up our friendship forever. She made it clear that this was a sex deal, and I can’t let the pancake haze or the skating mojo trick me into thinking she wants more too.
I want this woman in my life, and I won’t take a chance at losing her. Some of her is better than none. I don’t want to let her go tomorrow, but I suppose I have to.
