“I just wanted today to be good for you.”
“It is,” I replied, overwhelmed by his kindness. “It’s a very good day.”
As we sat there staring, breathing, existing, Graham pulled out his cell phone and started playing “Rise Up” by Andra Day.
“You said she might like it,” he told me.
Once again, I began to cry.
And it was beautiful.
“Are we friends, Lucille?” Graham asked.
I turned to him, my heart feeling tight in my chest. “Yes.”
“Then can I tell you a secret?”
“Yes, of course. Anything.”
“After I tell you, I need you to pretend I never spoke of it, all right? If I don’t say it now, I fear the feeling will only grow, and it will mess with my head even more than it is now. So, after this, I need you to pretend I never said this. After this I need you to go back to being my friend, because being friends with you makes me a better person. You make me a better human.”
“Graham—”
He turned and placed sleeping Talon into her car seat. “Wait, just tell me first—do you feel anything? Anything more than friendship when we do this?” He reached out and took my hand in his.
Nerves.
He moved in closer to me, our bodies closer than they’d ever been. “Do you feel anything when I do this?” he whispered, slowly grazing the back of his hand against my cheek. My eyes shut.
Chills.
He moved in even closer, his small exhales hovering over my lips, his exhales becoming my inhales. I couldn’t open my eyes because I would see his lips. I couldn’t open my eyes because I would crave to be closer. I couldn’t open my eyes because I could hardly breathe.
“Do you feel anything when we’re this close?” he asked softly.
Excitement.
I opened my eyes and blinked once.
“Yes.”
A wave of relief traveled through him and he reached into his back pocket, pulling out two pieces of paper. “I made two lists yesterday,” he told me. “I sat at my desk all day listing all the reasons why I shouldn’t feel the way I feel about you, and that list is long. It’s detailed with bullet points expressing every single reason why this—whatever this is between us—is a bad idea.”
“I get it, Graham. You don’t have to explain yourself. I know we can’t—”
“No, just wait. There’s the other list. It’s shorter, much shorter, but in that list I tried to not be so logical. I’m trying to be more like you.”
“Like me? How so?”
“I’m trying to feel. I imagined what it would be like to be happy, and I think you are the definition of happiness.” His dark eyes locked with mine, and he cleared his throat twice. “I tried to list the things I find pleasant, outside of Talon of course. It’s a short list, really, only two things so far, and oddly enough, it begins and ends with you.”
My heart pounded against my chest, my mind spinning faster and faster each second that passed. “Me and me?” I asked, feeling his body’s warmth. I felt his words grazing across my skin and seeping so deep into my soul.
His fingers slowly trailed along my neck. “You and you.”
“But…” Lyric. “We can’t.”
He nodded. “I know. That’s why after I tell you this last thing, I need you to pretend we are only friends. I need you to forget everything I’ve said tonight, but first, I need to tell you this.”