Page 84 of Keep Me Never
“I’d like that.”
He nods, and I think I see a glossy sheen fall over his eyes, but he blinks and then it’s gone. “Well, your class is over now, so how about we get some lunch?”
“I can’t today. I told Chase I would be back in time to have lunch with him and I really don’t want to cancel.”
My grandpa watches me closely, and I will my cheeks not to heat under his stare. I’m not sure we’re the kind of close where I’d talk about my dating life quite yet, even if he has a direct interest in the subject. But I did tell him Chase was over late, didn’t I?
He smiles then. “Not a worry, sweetheart. Prescott is always free for a lunch date with me. I swear, the man is as lonely as I am.”
Guilt washes over me, and I consider asking him to join us but decide on something else instead. “I’ll be heading down to Oceanside to check on the studio and a few things Friday morning. If you’ll be in that area, I’m free that evening.”
“Then that is where I’ll make sure to be.”
We pull up in front of the campus and with a quick goodbye hug, I climb out, spotting Chase sitting on a bench just a little ways away.
He stands the moment he sees me, a smile on his face, and I can’t help but mirror it with mine.
We meet in the middle, his knuckle instantly going under my chin and tilting my head back so our gazes are locked. “Angel.”
My pulse seems to pound a little harder from nothing more than the look in his hazel eyes, and maybe the reminder of the things he does to my body. Repeatedly.
Eagerly.
“Hi.” I don’t mean to whisper.
His mouth curves into that handsome smile of his, and the knuckle beneath my chin runs along my cheek. “Hungry?”
This time, I only nod, and his smile turns into a bit more of a smirk. He totally knows what I’m thinking, and he likes it.
Chase takes my hand, and together we head to the cafeteria, where our friends will be waiting. A group lunch date he has done his best to be a part of since the two of us became anus.
I can’t help but feel like my life is coming together in ways I never expected. I have a family member again, and a friend who means the world to me. A boyfriend that I am borderline obsessed with and, well,hopethat everything will work out in the end. Maybe there is a happy medium I can reach with my grandpa now that Chase and I are together and my studio can still be saved.
That is the mantra I carry with me in the week that follows, and I find that my mornings aren’t plagued by stress and uncertainty anymore.
I spend my days in class, my afternoons at the field watchingChase and the boys practice, getting my schoolwork done, and every other evening, I teach a quick class at the after-school program for the local elementary schools around town. There is no payment involved, but it allows me to learn a little about how different programs work and leaves me with several ideas I might like to incorporate into my own.
If I ever get to that point, of course. If I can save my building.
I close my eyes, smiling as I think of my dad.
He never lost hope. Even when he was sick, he was full of it. Not in regard to recovery—we both knew that wasn’t an option for him—but when it came to everything else, when it came tome, hope was all he had.
Or maybefaithis a better word.
He never saidif. He always saidwhen. When you open your rec center. When you teach classes. When you fall in love…
My eyes open, landing on the photo on my dresser. It was the last one I ever took with my dad, and beside it, propped up and frameless, is the one I printed last week. The first I ever took with Chase.
A first photo and a last photo sitting there together, that has to be some sort of sign, right?
I had no idea the picture was being taken. It was the night of the show in San Jose. Noah sent it to me a few days later, having taken it in secretjust in case I wanted it, he had said.
I’m so glad he did.
I haven’t shown it to Chase yet. I just want to keep it for myself for a while because I’m pretty sure my face tells a deeper story of my feelings than my voice has. Maybe even my own mind.
I think I’m falling in love, Dad, and I wish you were here to tell me if I was doing it right.
