What I Should Have Done ✓

Chapter 46

The small barn was located in the backyard around 40 yards from the house. It had been and still was one of my favorite spots at home due to the peace and quiet it emitted. Not that the town was that busy, but with the house being so small, I had spent countless spring and summer afternoons there, doing homework, hanging out with friends or Gabriel, and later writing college application essays, and would only come back inside when the light would be fading and I hadn't been able to see the red-painted wood paneling anymore.

That night, after an early dinner for which I presented homemade broccoli mac'n'cheese, we were helping out Dad by finishing some woodwork for Grampa's porch rail while they both attended the town meeting. Dad had told us not to, said it was fine and he'd get to it the next day, but mostly John had insisted and I was fine with it. Between the wooden planks, boards, the half-finished wardrobe, a cabinet door from our kitchen that Dad kept meaning to fix, piles of sawing dust on the ground, and an abundance of various tools covering every surface, we were working side by side. John was milling the way Dad had shown him and I was polishing the second, finished part. We weren't talking which suited me because I was lost in thought anyway.

How surreal was it to have John stay here, in my childhood home? We had only met half a year ago, and now here he was, getting to know me so intimately, the way I was with my family. To have both the people closest to me, who knew my childhood-self inside and out, who had watched me grow up, and John, who had gotten to know only my college-self.

Were those two versions of myself the same person? Had my adult-self resulted from my childhood-self? Or was only one of them the real me? And was my adult-self even a finished project? Funnily enough, after the initial bewilderment at the clash of the two worlds, I was now okay. It didn't feel strange anymore, it felt like John fit in with us so well. It felt right that he was here. Did he feel the same way when I stayed with his family?

"Hey... Grace?" John suddenly asked, and even his low voice ripped me from my thoughts.

I slowly dropped the milling machine and brushed some flyaway hair off my forehead with the back of my hand.. "Yeah?"

"Can you c'mere for a second?"

Leaving the sand paper behind, I followed his beckoning and stepped closer.

"What's wrong?" I asked while wiping my wood-dusted hands on my jeans.

He took my hands in his and looked at the ground.

"John?" I was growing worried. Everything had been going wonderfully. He couldn't be breaking up with me, could he? And with one and a half days of our trip left at that? A big lump began to form in my stomach when he hesitated for another couple of heartbeats.

"How do you feel about Gabriel?" he finally asked in a low voice.

"Gabriel?" I repeated in confusion. I didn't know what I had expected, but certainly not this.

"He's going to law school, huh?" His gaze went over my shoulder.

"Yeah, good for him. It'll be hard work, but I know he'll shine."

I didn't know where he was going with this and his unease was making me uneasy, too.

"Do you... still have feelings for him or whatever?"

John was rarely this insecure. The setting sun cast its long rays of warm, silky light through the barn door and made his hair glow golden. God, sometimes this man doesn't see how beautiful he is.

"No." Decidedly, I cupped his cheek in my palm and brought his eyes back to mine. "John: I don't have any romantic feelings for Gabriel. We have history and I'll always root for him, but I am over him. We were in high school when we were together. And now we're not in high school anymore and I'm with you."

He searched my eyes for something more.

"I don't know. It seems like you were so perfect together and he's ambitious and you're ambitious and maybe that's what you're looking for and maybe you'd want to get back together with him, or even if you didn't, maybe things between us would get too serious and you'd get scared and break it off."

"Enough!" So that's what this is about. "John, I haven't said this, but—God, this is going to sound so corny—All I think about is you. I don't know why you can't see that. I don't want anyone else. For six months, I haven't wanted anyone else, even while I was with someone else." His eyes snapped back to mine. "If anything changes, we'll talk about it, but we don't just go looking somewhere else," I then reminded him of his own words.

He finally looked at me, really looked at me. "You mean that?"

"Yes, silly. And I'm sure as hell not ditching you to get back together with my high school boyfriend because he's good at taking standardized tests."

A smile spread over his face. "You're too good to be true. I hope you know that."

This is it. His words filled me with bouncy balls. Though he had told me several times, I hadn't truly heard it until now, and it was exactly what I needed to reassure me. What we both needed. I cleared my throat so I wouldn't choke up.

"Look, I'm not good at this—talking about feelings. And neither are you. But it seems we both have to try a little harder. I'm sure of this"—I motioned between the two of us—"and I need you to be sure as well. So tell me what you need and I'll try my hardest. Okay?"

John dropped his shoulders and released a breath he had been holding. I sensed a huge weight falling off him.

"That's all I need."

And with that he closed the distance between us, pulled me close by the waist, and kissed me. All doubts between us floated away in an instant and for the first time since we got to Maine, he seemed completely at ease, his body relaxing into mine. My eyes flew shut while I gripped his t-shirt at his waist firmly. The fireworks behind my closed eyelids were in full swing and my body temperature went through the roof. When he cupped my face, the sawing dust on his hands didn't bother me. If anything, the roughness made him even sexier. A sudden moment of clarity hit me and I cautiously slid one hand underneath his t-shirt against his bare skin, pressing myself closer against his front.

From the way he froze for a second, I could tell I had caught him off guard. For emphasis, I pulled away and looked at his through my lashes, then tugged at his t-shirt. He looked at me, wide-eyed and questioning, still holding my face in his hands.

"Grace, if you want to stop, we should do that now. And you need to stop making bedroom eyes at me."

"What if I'm making them on purpose?" I whispered, my eyes not leaving his until I leaned over to kiss his collarbone.

When he eventually spoke, his voice sounded strained: "You don't have to just because we said those things"

"I want to. This time for real. I promise. Do you want to?"

"Do I want to? Fuck, of course I do, but you—"

"Good." Then I kissed him fervently to stop him from overthinking.

My hands found his belt and undid it. Before I could open the button on his jeans, he grabbed the backs of my thighs and lifted me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist. After a brief break, his lips immediately attached themselves to mine again, his teeth on my bottom lip and our tongues dancing together. Shit. I gasped. My heart beat uncontrollably as he carried me this way. My back bumped against a wooden pillar, chosen for support. I chuckled and he smiled against my lips. My kisses became more urgent the more frustrated I became with being up in the air with little access to his body. My hands were massaging his scalp through the kiss as he set me down carefully.

"Should we move this to the bedroom, then?" I quoted him from the trip to the cabin.

His hazel irises had given way to his dilated pupils. We were both panting heavily when he blinked a few times, then rasped: "Yes."

I took his hand, shut off the lights in the barn, andpulled him along as we crossed the backyard toward the house. Which one of uswas more impatient, I couldn't tell, but soon I was laughing while running tokeep up with his long strides.