Page 22 of Worship
His body stills and I’m suddenly cold. He’s stepped back, away from me. I turn the key and push my door open, then close it behind me.
The light seeps into my bedroom from the open drapes I’d forgotten to close last night. Jesus, last night. My fingers dart to my neck where Luca kissed me, and I trace the path his lips explored. It feels like a hot dream, but it wasn’t.Never again, Gretchen.
I bring my hands over my face and inhale, then exhale and run them down my cheeks. He’s complicated—thisis complicated—and as much as I wish it felt clearer, in the light of day, it doesn’t. Whatever almost happened last night feels like a loss today. I’ve lost something I never really had.
I just need a fresh start, a new day, and a plan to confront whatever this thing that’s going on between us is, head-on.
My phone vibrates and I lean over to the nightstand and look at the screen. Drew.
“Hey, you,” I answer, more chipper than I’m feeling.
“Good morning, lazy ass. Are you coming to dinner tonight? I assumed by your text last night that you were, but then the next text sounded like you weren’t. I wanted to confirm. I have to call the food into the restaurant.”
I’d texted Drew after talking to Luca the first time and said I was coming to dinner, and then after he walked me to the door last night, I’d sent another saying“Never mind, probably not happening tomorrow.”
“When are you going to learn to cook, Drew?” I avoid answering because I’m still unsure.
I should have a conversation with Luca about last night.
She laughs.
“This coming from a person that doesn’t have food in their fridge.” I roll my eyes.
She’ll never learn to cook, but then again, she won’t have to.
“I’m not good with the details, but I can cook, and you know it!”
She knows I’m amazing in a kitchen when I have food. I just haven’t used my skills in a while.
“I don’t know if I can believe that. It’s been so long, G,” she teases but then quiets. I know she’s worried she’s overspoken.
I keep it light, hoping to reassure her. “You’re going to eat those words. I’ll see you later. I’m making dinner.”
It’s been forever since I’ve done this—cooked a family dinner. The reminder starts to bring back old memories, but I tuck them away for another day. Sooner or later, I’ll need to get back to living my life without feeling like I’m betraying my dad.
“Perfect!” she squeals. “I thought it would be harder to talk you into it. Will you say we did it together?”
“No.” I giggle and hang up on her.
I knew what she wanted—she couldn’t lie to save her life—but I’m happy she gave me an excuse to remember a piece of myself that I’ve been missing. And I’m equally as happy to have a chance to clean up my mess.
I may have almost canceled late last night, but I’ve never been a coward, so I won’t start now. I need to look Luca in the eye and tell him it’s all water under the bridge. Nothing really happened anyway.
The hottest moment of nothing, never happened.
I know it borders on utter bullshit, but the important thing is that we stopped before it all got irrevocably damaged. We can go back to how it was before. Unless we can’t.We’ll see.
I shoot out of bed and plant my feet on the floor, stretching my arms above my head. Okay, I need a shower, food, and then a list of groceries. I’m actually looking forward to tonight. It’s not just about doing something that I’ve abandoned out of grief, it’s also about the feeling of being a part of something bigger than me. These people became my family well before I lost my dad. I love them and this is how I can show it.
I make my way to the bathroom, turn on the shower, and grab a hair tie, piling my hair on top of my head. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I see the happiness on my face, and I smile wider. It feels nice to feel, well, nice. I feel light, not so marred down by life. A piece of me knows that this feeling didn’t just start today and that I’m not just excited to cook for my friends, but I tuck that feeling away too for another day.
I begin to pull my white cami over my head when the doorbell rings. Who the hell is at the door this early? Or late, depending on how someone views 11:00 a.m.? I put my top back in place and walk quickly to the door as the bell rings again.
“Coming.”
I look through the peephole and see a white T-shirt on a well-built man.Luca.My eyes almost pop out of my head “Fuck,” I whisper and duck away from the peephole, pressing my back up against the door, my hands covering my mouth.Why is he here?
I was 100 percent hoping to practice a whole monologue of what I was going to say in the shower. I begin to chew on the inside of my cheek, debating how to handle this.
