Page 135

Story: All I Have Left

Wyatt looks over his shoulder at us. “You guys coming?”
Grayson nods, his arm around my shoulders. “In a minute.”
Fear works through me. What’s he going to think? We’ve never discussed where this is leading, let alone babies.Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Our eyes meet under the purplish sky, the restaurant sign lighting up the side of his face. Humidity suffocates my words and I find myself sweating even more.
Concern etches his handsome face and I loop my arm into his. “Let’s go eat. They have the best breadsticks around.”
He shakes his head. “You want kids,with me?” he asks, a low Southern rasp to his words I haven’t heard in a while.
I nod. “Lots of them.” My response falters as his hand cups the back of my neck, pulling me closer and holding me to his chest.
He runs his free hand up my spine, my body registering the trail of sparks he provokes inside me despite our interactions in the dressing room. “I don’t deserve you, but I can’t fucking wait to knock you up.”
“Really?” I pull away, embarrassment heating my cheeks. I have no idea why I’m embarrassed either. Maybe because we’re in the middle of the street talking about babies and getting knocked up, or that I said it to begin with. I’m not entirely sure.
He nods. “I’m serious. I just… wasn’t sure how you felt about it given I can’t go an hour without yelling at someone.”
“I don’t care about any of that, Grayson.” I wiggle out of his embrace and gently press my hand to his cheek. “It’s normal. Everything you’re going through, we’re going through, it’s completely normal.”
A deep, sincere laughter lights up his face and eases the tension from his eyes. “Stop googling everything.”
“I don’t google everything.”
He leans forward, bringing his hands up to my shoulders, his thumbs rubbing back and forth over the hollow spot above my collarbones. “Name one of my symptoms that you haven’t googled yet?” he presses, waiting as he arches an eyebrow.
“Wet dreams.”
“What?” His eyebrows shoot up, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. “Seriously?”
“Yes, well….” Fuck. Now my face is really red. “I just… why don’t you have them? We haven’t had sex in three months, you haven’t been able to have,you know—” Yes, I actually point at his junk in the middle of the sidewalk. “I just thought maybe you’d have them.”
I can’t believe I said that. I’m too mortified to even look athim now. But, also, he tilts my head so I’m forced to look at him. “How the fuck did we get on this conversation?”
“I don’t know.” I throw my hands up in the air. “I’m confused.”
“That’s my job.”
“What is?”
“To be confused.” He smiles softly at me and shakes his head as if he can’t believe this himself. Leaning in, his mouth makes contact with my ear as he angles me toward the restaurant door. “I don’t have them. Never have, but if I did, I guarantee they’d be about you.”
I just fell in love all over again, after a very weird conversation.
Surprisingly, the night does not end there with the awkwardness or the teasing. Frankie sticks her head out of the doorway. “Get in here. I want to order and Mom says I can’t until you two are at the table.”
Grayson groans, rolling his eyes, but we follow Frankie inside. At the table, we’re sitting next to one another in the corner, Frankie on Grayson’s left side by design. He does this for many reasons. He can’t hear her talking to him unless he’s paying attention, and she hates to repeat herself.
It’s a game for him now.
All is fine throughout the meal, other than Frankie crying twice over them not having the sauce she wants, and I eat my body weight in breadsticks smothered in alfredo sauce.
While I’m midbite of one breadstick, Julia gushes, “You know, I thought it’d be Evie and Grayson who got married first.”
Grayson snorts, his elbows resting on the table, a half-eaten bowl of spaghetti in front of him. “I could take her to Vegas tonight and fix that.” He snorts, and then looks over at me. “But I can’t drive. Or work, or fuck. So life’s great. And my girlfriend looks like there’s cum dripping from her lips.”
A few things happen in the next few moments. Frankie burpsloudly, blames it on the baby, and my mom spills her wine all over Wyatt, probably shocked Grayson said that out loud.