Page 66 of Crash and Burn

His hands were so warm on mine. I took one and pressed it to my cheek, closing my eyes. Grant placed a kiss on the back of my other hand.

I’d never intended on explaining to Grant why I loved his nickname for me so much, but now that I had, I was glad I’d done so.

“Your turn,” I told him. “Treasured memory.”

“Mine also has to do with you,” Grant said.

“Copy-cat,” I teased.

“Do you remember that day at the diner when we were talking about art?” Grant asked. “I’d been so worried.”

“About what?” I asked, trying to remember our conversation.

“I’d been worrying whether this art stuff was going to take away from my real work.” He inhaled deeply. “Worried that I wouldn’t be able to make the money I needed to provide for Mom and Sammy. Worried that I was being selfish and wasting my time on something unimportant.”

“I know you’ve always felt a lot of pressure about that.” I brought my hands to his cheeks. “You’re a good son. You’re a good brother.”

“I felt so guilty,” he whispered. “But then you told me something. You said I had an artist’s soul.” Grant looked into my eyes. His own were a shining deep blue. “You have no idea how much that meant to me.”

I thought I might have some idea.

“So that’s it.” He pulled back, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink. “That’s one of my most treasured memories.”

I had been leery at first, but now I was glad Grant had suggested this game. I was right that there were things about each other that we didn’t know, couldn’t know, when we were just friends.

Grant cleared his throat and settled back down into the sofa. He was obviously a little discomfited from giving his answer. I doubted he’d ever confided these kinds of things to anyone before.

“Ready for the next one?” he asked. "What roles do love and affection play in your life?"

I wanted to give a truthful answer. The only problem was...

"I've never thought about that before," I said. "It's kind of a deep question."

"Take your time," Grant said.

I played with the ends of my hair as I thought hard.

“I think maybe, for me, love and affection are something I expect to see through actions," I said. “The wordsI love youare just that. Words. It means so much more when you show someone that you love them."

I went quiet, not knowing what else to say. This wasn't the kind of thing I sat around and thought about.

"I think saying the words are important," Grant said. "Words have power. When you say something out loud, you make it real somehow. So I think they shouldn't be said lightly."

We stared at each other silently, contemplating each other's responses.

If those words meant so much to Grant, why hadn't he ever...?

The mood threatened to become awkward and uncomfortable so I was glad when Grant spoke up.

"I have an idea. You remember how I was talking about my secret art project?" he asked.

"Are you ready to tell me what it is?" I asked.

Grant gave me a slow, secretive smile.

"I'd rather show you," he said.

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