But it was more than that. I wanted to be something with him. I didn’t want to be his phone booty call. I didn’t want to be the girl who always had to lie low. I wanted to be out-in-the open and for real with him. All or nothing. That’s what I wanted.
“I just asked him point blank at the hospital if he had a thing for you. He said yes.” My heart fluttered, and even with Bryan banged up downstairs I couldn’t help but grin wildly. “And he was all worried about the board and how they’d look at this because of Wilco’s affair. And then there’s Caldwell, who’s Captain Conservative.”
“Right, and those are all still true.”
“Yes, but you’re twenty-three and not an employee.” Nicole reached out and took my hand. She had this satisfied look in her eyes, like a good matchmaker pulling off a match. “So when I asked him if it was the real thing with you, and he said yes to that as well, I told him I’d talk to the board and to Caldwell in particular. The guy’s conservative as hell, but he didn’t freak out when I brought my partner to the holiday party last year so I think I can convince him.”
This was all I wanted. To be more than just playmates. To be a real thing. A rush of happiness warmed me all over.
“What about NYU though? And the mentor program?”
“I told Bryan that as long as he recused himself as your mentor, everything should be fine.”
Ah, there was a catch. There was always a catch. Without this class how would I graduate?
Chapter Eighteen
You know when they tell you that you can have your cake and eat it too?
They’re wrong.
You always have to pay the piper. You can’t take the money and run.
As Nicole returned to her home, leaving me with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy, all I could think was Bryan might be free and clear, but there was no way I could come out of this unscathed. Not now at least. Whatever we might be would have to go back on hold once again. I couldn’t have him end the mentorship. I needed to finish school for a million reasons.
I went to the kitchen, feeling a bit like an intruder as I rooted around for two spoons. I’d never been in his place before, and now here I was, for all intents and purposes, taking care of him after a trip to the ER. I found a white wood-paneled drawer that held utensils. I grabbed two spoons, then two cloth napkins from the holder in the island and returned to the living room. Bryan was awake now, reading a book on his tablet. Night had fallen, so the only illumination was the screen. When he saw me, he put the tablet on the table. I surveyed his living room once more. The hardwood floors in his home were a polished blond, and the walls were eggshell, giving the room warmth. There were a few pieces of art on the walls — reproductions of the Magritte with an apple in front of a man’s face, and one of Mark Rothko’s abstract images in solid red. The couch was comfortable and classy in a dove gray color, and the coffee table was made of a sheet of sturdy glass atop two brushed metal blocks. His tablet rested next to his wallet, and I noticed the crinkled edge of a tiny white bag sticking out of his wallet. The bag was well-worn, as if it had set up camp there for years. Something about it felt vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place why.
I joined him on the couch, opened the pint and presented him with a spoon.
“My favorite. How did you know?”
“Nicole knew, silly.”
He tapped his forehead with the spoon. “Still a little slow on the uptake tonight.”
“It’s a good thing you haven’t had the ice cream yet or you’d have a huge chocolate spot on your forehead.”
He dug into the ice cream, and I joined him. We ate quietly for a minute. After a few bites, he put the spoon down on the coffee table. I placed my spoon and the pint next to it. “Did Nicole tell you?” he asked.
“Tell me what?”
“Anything interesting?”
I shifted so I could look at him. “Maybe you should tell me something interesting.”
He swallowed, and the soft sleepiness of the crazy day disappeared. He was Bryan again. Strong and in control. There was no hemming and hawing. No lengthy preamble. He was direct and clear, as he looked me in the eyes. “I’m totally in love with you, Kat.”
I was speechless for a moment. Overcome. This was the movie-like moment I’d wanted my whole life. Only it was real. It was happening. And I was no longer sitting in the theater in the dark, watching. I was the girl in the scene who was crazy for the boy.
And the boy loved me too.
I was a flood of colors. I was the center of a sunburst, as my heart beat faster, and happiness rushed all throughout the freeways of the intersecting veins inside my body, filling me with everything good in the world.