Page 64 of Love in the Lab
I stop, and Jonathan’s chest bumps my shoulder when he continues walking. He gives me a sheepish smile.
“You want to go to the parade, don’t you?” I ask. It makes sense. Jonathan loves Halloween. He’s a fun person. Why wouldn’t he want to go to a fun Halloween parade?
“I don’t have to go,” he says quickly.
“But youwantto go,” I press.
He doesn’t answer, but I see the yearning written plainly on his face. He pulls me into another hug. With my nose smushed against his chest, I smell the mixture of cinnamon and citrus that always clings to him. It’s subtle; it doesn’t overwhelm even my sensitive olfactory nerves.
His mouth is against my hair, so his voice is muffled when he asks, “Would you come with me?”
I pull away and look into his face. He grimaces, knowing what he’s asking me.
“I … no.” I take a step back. It’s just not possible.
He takes my hand. “What if I stay with you the whole time? Like a bodyguard?”
A quiver of thrill runs through me. Could I do it? Could I watch the parade like everyone else? Itdoeslook fun, and Jonathan doesn’t ask me for much.
Jonathan sees the indecision on my face, so he plows forward. “Please? Carrots, if you can brave a boat in the middle of a hurricane, you can watch a parade. You’re strong and spunky and amazing.” His grin is cajoling, but his eyes are certain, locked on mine in a way that ignites my confidence.
“You won’t leave me?” I ask.
He quakes his head back and forth. “Not for a second.”
“And if it’s too much, and I want to leave?”
“We’re out of there immediately,” he confirms. “No questions asked.”
“Okay.” I nod, and his eyes light up like fireflies over the river. My heart swells that I can do this for him or at leasttry.
He swoops down, smacking a kiss against my lips. “Thank you! You won’t regret it. Trust me.”
And I do trust him.
Chapter twenty-five
Jonathan
Ipull Molly by the hand through the crowd, trying to get to Tchoupitoulas Street before the parade. We bob and weave around tourists and locals alike, adults dressed in a variety of barely-there costumes and children decked out as superheroes and princesses.
I glance back at Molly, worried I might be rushing her along, but she’s laughing. My whole body is vibrating, an internal buzz that starts where Molly’s hand touches mine and radiates down my arm and throughout my nervous system.
I know Molly told me to lay low this weekend while her sister is here. Even though I just saw her yesterday at work, it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t stay away.
I find us a spot along Tchoupitoulas Street that’s not too crowded yet. The parade has started, but it will take time to reach us here toward the end of the route. Before long, the space around us fills with groups of people, many in costume, and we hear loud music filtering down the street toward us.
I love this parade. It’s not as wild as the Mardi Gras parades, but it has all the other hallmarks of New Orleans celebrations: colorful, loud, fun, and a little rowdy. I’m breathless, energized as we wait for the parade to reach us.
As the parade approaches, the crowd thickens, and people unintentionally jostle us from every direction. I widen my stance and maneuver Molly so that her back is against my chest. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, folding them in front of her. I’m a human forcefield, encasing Molly in my embrace and deflecting the chaos around us—at least that’s my goal.
Police motorcycles signal the beginning of the parade, and Molly jumps when one of them sounds their siren right in front of us. She leans one side of her head into my arm, her ear against my sleeve to muffle the noise. As the floats and dancers amble past, the street overflows with Lady Gaga songs, drum corps, and cheers from the enthusiastic crowd.
Ducking my head so my mouth is next to her ear, I ask, “How are you feeling?”
She twists her neck so she can look up at me, a grin on her face. “Safe,” she answers. “I’m having fun.”
Warmth oozes through my chest, spreading like melted butter until it pools in the tips of my fingers and toes. I have a sense of how much it means to her to be out here enjoying the parade, how significant this is for her. Playing a role in making it possible for her to enjoy the parade and sharing this experiencewith her, knowing she feels safe with me, it’s a rush. I’m proud of her for taking a risk, trusting me. At the same time, I feel a responsibility to guard and protect her.
