Page 73 of All I Have Left

“We were in the changing room and all he did was tip his head to the side and I think got dizzy. He jumped back and smacked his head on the shelf.”

“Oh shit. Do you think he hurt himself?”

I shrug, darting my eyes to the front windows of the store and stepping around Frankie. “I think he’s okay. It probably just pissed him off. They’ve changed his medication again so hopefully this one works better at stopping the dizziness.”

“I’m sure it will. Stop teasing the boy with sex.”

“I’m not teasing him. ”

She does that thing where she fake laughs and nods dramatically. “Uh-huh.”

Outside, I find Grayson leaning against my car parked on the street, his eyes on the cars going by. He’s dressed in cargo shorts now, his dark T-shirt clinging to his back as the wind blows subtly. I stand at the door for a moment, watching him, wishing I could take away all this for him.

Without words, I approach him and wait to see what he’s going to say.

He notices me, his eyes sliding effortlessly from the street to mine. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay.”

His hand finds mine and he tugs. “No, it’s not.”

I snake my hands around his shoulders as he leans me into the side of my car, his body covering mine. I wait, watching his eyes glow in the setting sun, the scar on the side of his head still very noticeable in this lighting. “Are you hurt?”

He shakes his head, slowly. “No.”

“Did you get dizzy again?”

His head tips forward, sighing as he presses his lips to mine. “I’m starving. Where are we eating?”

“Up the street. We can walk there.”

Sliding his right hand into mine, he breathes in heavily. “You’d think it’d be getting better by now.”

Squinting into the sun, I glance over at him and interlock our fingers. “It might take a few weeks of being on the new medication before it doesn’t happen as much. Maybe we try the diuretics they mentioned.”

He shrugs. “I’m not talking about medications.”

“What then?”

His eyes move to mine. “My reactions.”

“Oh.”

“It’s like I can’t regulate them. I feel something, pain, nausea, dizziness, whatever it is and my mood changes so drastically that even I can’t keep up with at times. ”

Moving closer, I circle my other hand around his bicep, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “We’ll get there. Soon.”

“I hope you’re right or my girlfriend is going to leave my ass,” he teases, watching the cars pass by on the street.

“Nah. She really wants to make a baby with you.” Fucking , fuck.

Did I really just say that out loud?

Also, can we please acknowledge the fact that he called me his girlfriend? Maybe not as important that I said I want to have his babies.

Judging by his expression, I’m guessing I did.

He stops walking and turns me to face him, his moody eyes on mine. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, you said something about babies. My hearing ain’t that bad.”

I cave, my shoulders sagging. We’re bumped from behind by Frankie. “Let’s eat! I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”

Ethan cringes at her, opening the door to the restaurant. “I hate that saying.”

“And I hate that you snore. So we’re even.” She flips her hair at him.

Ethan rolls his eyes, lowering his voice and holding the door open for the parents. “She snores.”

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 at him 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 burps loudly, blames it on the baby, and my mom spills her wine all over Wyatt, probably shocked Grayson said that out loud.

Julia kicks Grayson’s leg under the table. “Grayson. Stop that. This is a family restaurant.”

He rolls his eyes in response. “Hardly.”

“Will you knock it off?” I whisper, and it does nothing for the cheese sauce dripping down my lips.

Grayson’s eyes widen as he takes in the alfredo sauce dripping from my lips and the breadstick in my hand.

I’m not entirely sure how this looked to others, but Grayson’s reaction tells me it’s inappropriate.

White cheese on my lips, long stick in hand? Yep, looks like cum.

His eyes widen in response, his jaw clenched. I hold his stare, unsure, and grab a napkin. “Sorry.”

He draws in a heavy breath, relaxing into the chair and reaches for my purse on the floor, sets it on his lap and frowns. “Can we leave yet?”

Ethan throws his head back, laughing. “We’re a complete shitshow.”

Everyone turns around to stare at us and Wyatt flags the waiter down. “Can we get the check, please?”

I reach down, having dropped my napkin through all this on the floor. In the midst of doing that, Grayson leans in, grabs my wrist and whispers, “The next time you have anything dripping from your lips, it’s coming from me.”

My level of embarrassment and desire reaches an all-time high.

Four more days. Four more fucking days.