Page 26 of You & I, Rewritten

“I’d love that.”

* * *

It takes me all of two weeks to trust that what we have isn’t too good to be true.

And another for me to admit just how hard I’ve begun to fall for the man.

And just for good measure, one more for me to realize Graham just might be everything I’ve been looking for all along.

From day one, he’s faced every concern and insecurity of mine head on, giving it value and then just carrying on. For so long, I’’ve learned to mask the complicated parts of who I am.

Not with Graham. He’s showed me thatallof me, especially the messy and anxious parts, are not only worthy of getting to know, but worthy of normalization and acceptance. He’s made me feel seen and valued.

He’s made me feel whole.

Without even realizing it, Graham and I have spent nearly every waking moment of the last three months together. Three of the most as-seen-on-tv, deliriously happy months of my life. And as much as that terrifies me, I’ve never felt more alive.

As theveryparticular and intense professional in the office, I was surprised to learn just how laidback Graham is in his everyday life. He’s got this go-with-the-flow personality outside of work that is exhilarating to be around, and I’ve discovered rather quickly that Graham Austin is up for just about anything.

Like how he enthusiastically threw himself into the oil painting class Klair forced usbothto attend when Dean had to bail on their romantic date night for a last-minute work thing. Every time I looked over at Graham throughout the class, he was bent over his canvas, meticulously painting the wooden bowl of sunflowers set before us with novice, yet detailed, strokes. Klair and Iwould havebeen much farther along on our individual masterpieces, but we found the cheap but complimentary red wine to be much more our speed.

Or how he quickly agreed to binge all my favorite high school dramas complete with unrealistic storylines, backstabbing best friends and more angst and sexual tension than any eighteen-year-old would know what to do with. I knew I found a keeper when he proudly and confidently proclaimed he wasTeam Brookeafter watching Lucas choose Peyton for the hundredth time.

But the thing I’ve come to adore most about him is how he is anything but predictable. From the way he can flawlessly quote every line to every episode of every animated adult cartoon in existence to the way he dances so smoothly in the kitchen while making meals passed down by hisabuelita, Graham has kept me on my toes with an idiotic smile permanently plastered across my face.

In the smallest of ways and over such a short period of time, our lives have become so profoundly intertwined.

“Where’s your head at, Mr. Cowen?” he asks, curling up next to me in his king-sized bed. We’ve just finished yet another meal together courtesy of my new devilishly handsome personal chef—chicken molé burrito bowls complete with homemade guacamole and deliciously spicy queso—and are now each reading in bed, our bodies tangled together under the plush linen comforter.

Setting my book aside and pulling myself even closer to him, I bury my head into the crook of his neck, taking a deep inhale of the rosemary and mint body wash that still lingers on his tanned skin from our shower—the scent that now lulls me to sleep every single night and will forever remind me of him. I slowly trace the intricately drawn tattoo covering his shoulder with my fingertips, a beautiful dream catcher with earth toned feathers, and smile remembering the way his face lit up as he explained its significance. A permanent and heartfelt reminder of a cherished gift from his mother, hung proudly over his childhood bed and meant to inspire a life spent chasing and following the dreams that take our breath away, regardless of how big and scary they are.

“I guess I was just getting lost in the whirlwind of it all,” I say, pressing my lips against his jaw.

“Oh yeah? A good whirlwind I hope.”

“The best,” I admit, sitting up so that I can see his face. “There are moments—very much like this one, where I just am completely taken aback by howeasyall of this is.”

Graham throws his head back in laughter. “Are you callingmeeasy?”

“You know what I mean,” I say, pushing his arm playfully. “I’m sayingthisis easy. You and me.” I place my hand over his heart, the warmth of his bare skin burning under my touch.

“Us.” he says, leaning forward, gently placing a tender kiss against my lips.

And for the first time in my life, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

CHAPTERTWELVE

“There you two are,”Klair says theatrically, per usual. Graham and I just sat down in our office’s break room for lunch, an act that has become our new normal during the work week and something I’ve come to immensely look forward to. Some days we share leftovers, others we have salads or sandwiches. Today, I surprised Graham with southwest wraps and fries from my new favorite cafe across the street.

“Do you boys have plans later?” She plops down in the chair between us as Graham and I exchange questioning glances, unsure of what she has in mind. “Perfect…we’re doing game night!” she says before either of us can say anything, throwing her arms around both of our necks.

“That actually sounds like a lot of fun! Is there anything I can bring?” Graham asks, ever the gentleman.

“Nope…just that competitive nature we all know and love,” she says, nodding in my direction, stealing a fry from Graham’s container and popping it into her mouth. “Dean and I will take care of the rest.” I’ll never get sick of seeing the ease between the two of them, one of the unexpected benefits of the three of us all working together.

“Oh, it issoon, sweet Klair. You might want to give Dean a heads up that when I play, I play to win,” I say, leaning back in my chair and flexing my arm muscles, resulting in Graham nearly choking on the wrap he’d just taken a bite of and Klair rolling her eyes at me.

“Have fun withthat,” Klair says to Graham as she heads over to her desk, leaving the two of us back to our regularly scheduled lunch date.

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