I Can Fix That

“Hey, you’re gonna think I am crazy—”

“I already think that.” I smacked his chest and sat up, drawing my knees to my chest.

“Seriously, though! I know you will have no idea what I am talking about, but like a year ago I met you in Cooper’s.”

His grin turned flat, and his eyes widened. He looked shocked and confused, and I felt embarrassed for even bringing it up.

“I’m serious. I know it sounds stupid, we didn’t even talk, but I was grabbing stain for the fl—” My sentence was cut off by Grant’s lips on mine. Both of his large hands wrapped around my jawline. He took my mouth with force, and I stilled for a moment, unsure how to react. Before slowly sinking into him, I relaxed in his grip, my hands placed on his chest.

He kissed me with a passion I had not known, his lips taking mine and making me his. He pulled back for just a second, whispering, “I remember, Hart. As much as I wanted to forget, I remembered.” I didn’t have time to react to his confession before he was back on me, our mouths reconnecting in desperation.

His lips were warm and soft; they parted slightly, inviting me in. I felt sparks between the two of us like the sparks that flew through the air in Cooper’s that day, he was cutting through my walls into my heart like that cheap sheet metal, and I didn’t stand a chance.

His hands slipped from my jaw to my hair, gripping my brown locks in his rough fingers, tangling them together. I could feel the soft tickle of his breath right beneath my nose, and I had chill bumps run up my arms despite the hot May night. His lips tasted like traces of his last beer and desire spread through my chest. His kiss wasn’t like I imagined in my daydreams. I used to picture him grabbing me with force and urgency like we couldn’t stand being off each other for a second. He would grasp me and lift me off the ground like in the movies, but this was better than any romance movie I had ever seen. His kiss was soft and sensual. He kissed me like we had all the time in the world as if he and I were the only two left on the planet—and for a moment it felt like we were. I leaned closer into him and attempted to move my legs to be closer to his. But Grant pulled away slightly, his nose resting against mine, hands still in my hair.

“Grant, I…’ I was lost in the heat of his hands, and his face resting against mine.

He took his hands out of my hair and made some space for me. I almost wanted to whine no at our missing contact.

He dropped his head and sighed, seeming disappointed in our kiss. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

I looked away from him, embarrassed at my attempt to jump him. “No, really, it’s fine.”

He scooched off of the truck, holding a hand out for me to grab, and guided my feet onto the grass.

“I do like you, June. It’s not that I don’t want you cause, believe me, I do. But there’s a lot you don’t know that I can’t drag you into.”

Maybe I wanted to be dragged into something. I could handle it; I was pretty scrappy when I needed to be. “I doubt there’s something that bad.” I looked back at him but his eyes wouldn’t meet mine.

“I can’t be with you, June. You’re such a sweet girl and it’s nothing personal- I am just the last thing you need. Please know that.”

His tone was distant and even though he was only a few inches away, I felt as though we had grown a mile apart. I was sick to my stomach. While I was having the best kiss of my life, Grant was thinking of how I couldn’t be with him.

“Oh. I-I didn’t mean.” There was a pause in my voice as I was unsure where to go from here. I wasn’t looking for a proposal from the guy or anything, but I hated the idea of him running after we kissed. That’s never a good sign, right? ”I just….” I breathed deeply, trying to calm down and not embarrass myself anymore.

“Can we just forget about it?” He looked over at me, pity splayed across his face. “I don’t mean I didn’t want to, I just don’t want you to think we could make this work as anything more.” I nodded my head, my throat felt tight and I cringed to myself.

“I get it. So…friends then?” He looked away from me, toward the grass, and nodded. Like he was disappointed in agreeing to our ‘friendship.’

I suggested we leave. I was ready to go back to my apartment and go to bed, although I knew I’d spend all night replaying this apprehensive instance in my head.

Grant opened his truck door and guided me up into the worn leather seat, turning on the air and pushing all of the vents on me. If there were one thing I’d noticed with Grant, it was that he showed his affection through diminutive actions. A delicate touch on the small of my back, draping a jacket over my shoulders, checking to see my reaction after he said something, pushing the vents toward me when it’s hot. They were small gestures, but they meant the most to me. They were the kind of actions others wouldn’t think twice about, and that women read about in romance novels. The kind you expect as a young girl but can hardly find a man who will be so thoughtful. It was clear Grant was not a chatty man, but those measures said more than his words ever could.

I realized my silence was troubling him. “Do you have any plans this weekend?” He placed his right hand on the back of the passenger headrest and turned his body to look behind us for any big dips in the dirt road. “Not really. I was going up to your house if you need me to finish those cabinets early?”

I shake my head no. “I’m not in any rush,” I said, which is partially a lie. Now that Grant made it clear we couldn’t be together, I’m not sure I wanted this process to drag out anymore.

“I don’t want you working weekends just for me. Besides, who’s going to nag me about paint colors when you’re all done?” I winked at him, and he smiled back.

“You were going to paint your bathroom’ faint coral,’ I did you a favor.” My chest rumbled in laughter, and he drew in a breath.

“What about you? Have any plans?”

I frowned, knowing I had plans but wishing I could say I didn’t, just so he had the opportunity to ask me out. “Actually, I do. Tomorrow evening is that bake drive and it’s going to take me all morning to get ready.” He turned down to Main Street and I looked out the window at all the small-town stores with their lights off.

“Oh yeah, what time do you have to start?” I add up the time it will take me to bake three dozen cupcakes and two dozen brownies in my head. “Probably about six a.m. The event is at two in the afternoon, and I’ve got so much to do.” He gives me a simple nod without moving his eyes off the road.

“All right, I’ll be there.”

I turned to him in surprise. “Wait—no, no, you don’t have to do that. You’re doing too much for me.”

He shook his head and simply said, “I like being around to help you, Hart.”

I wanted to dissect his comment further but decided to leave it for now. Either way, it warms my heart to hear it, especially after our previous conversation tonight. Our eyes meet, “As friends, right?”

Grant nods his head. “Friends.”