Page 64 of Crash and Burn

"What would have happened if you hadn't started taking pictures of me at that photoshoot?" I asked. "What if we'd never started that pillow fight?"

How long would we have pined after each other in silence?I wanted to ask him.How long would we have tortured ourselves over our supposedly unrequited feelings?

"We'd probably be getting ready for another movie night," he said reasonably.

"Doesn't that bother you?" I asked.

I didn't know why I was getting agitated. All I knew was that all the longing, frustration and fear that had held me hostage for years was bubbling to the surface and I couldn't get it to stop.

Grant seemed to notice my rising distress. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close, my back to his chest. He placed a kiss on the top of my head, his height and my lack of high heels making it easy to do so.

"Don't drive yourself crazy withwhat-ifs," he said. "The important thing is that we're together now."

I'd kept my feelings a secret for so long because Grant was the one person in the world who understood me. The one person I could be myself with. I hadn't been able to risk losing his friendship.

When I'd asked him why he'd never said anything about his own feelings, he told me his reason was the same as mine.

But was that really all it was?

"I can hear you thinking," Grant said, sounding amused as his breath ruffled the hairs at the top of my head.

I turned around in his arms and tipped my head back to look at him.

"Even though we've known each other for so long," I started, "it feels like everything is brand new. Like there's a whole world of things I still don't know about you. Like there's a locked treasure chest right in front of me, but I still haven't found the key."

Grant pushed my hair behind my ear and cupped my cheek.

"Is that bad?" he asked. "Wouldn't things be boring if we already knew everything about each other?"

I leaned my face into his palm.

"It's just that I've realized how much of a vast gap there is between being friends and being lovers," I told him. "And it's kind of scary."

Grant looked at me thoughtfully.

"I have an idea," he said. "Why don't we go on a first date?"

"You mean pretend we don't know anything about each other?" I asked. "Ask all those boring questions like what you do for a living and what my favorite color is? And let's not forget about the classic, if you could have dinner with any person living or dead who would it be?" I added.

"Not like that," Grant said. "Those are the surface level questions. I'm talking about the deeper stuff. You know the news article that was floating around a while ago, the one with those thirty-six relationship questions?"

I did remember that article. News websites and blogs re-posted it every Valentine's Day.

The actual article said these thirty-six questions would lead to falling in love.

My heart stuttered.

Did Grant know that was the scientific purpose of those questions?

I wasn't sure how much I believed in that supposed "science" but I couldn't deny that I wanted to get to know Grant on a whole different level than I already did.

"Okay," I said. "Let's do it."

We both went to his living room and took a seat on his comfy black leather sofa. It was so soft and squishy I always sunk in a few inches whenever I sat down. We sat angled toward each other, our knees touching. My foot jiggled nervously as Grant looked up the questions on his phone.

The idea was enticing when I thought about asking Grant questions, but I also had to answer in return. I'd completely forgotten any details of that article. I had no idea what those questions might be.

Grant settled himself against the back of the sofa and stifled a laugh.