A Grateful Kind of Love Page 6
Sounds good!
She responds right away, and I’m relieved.
Is this what dating is going to be like? Worrying about if I’m saying or doing the right things? Nervous about her response? Second-guessing my actions?
We’re not even dating yet, and I’m not liking it. But it’s Amy, so …
It’s a five-minute walk from class to Amy’s dorm, but it feels like an hour. I can’t wait to see her. I can’t wait to kiss her, assuming she’s on the same page as me. If she’s not, it’s going to suck. No doubt.
She opens her door. “Hey.” She smiles wide.
“Hey.” I press my lips into a smile.
She’s so freaking gorgeous.
Before I have the chance to say anything else, she’s out in the hallway with the door closed behind her.
“You’re anxious to get out of there, aren’t you?” I ask with a chuckle.
We start walking.
“You have no idea. You know, the room seemed big at first—for a dorm room. But it’s incredibly small. Like, microscopic. And Megan … she’s boy-crazy. It’s like she came to college with the sole purpose of finding a husband or maybe just an endless supply of hook-ups. I haven’t figured it out yet.” She raises her hands in front of her in the stop motion. “It’s like, hold up, girl. It’s week one. If the next guy she brings back is named Chandler, I might pass out.”
“Why’s that?” I ask in amusement.
“Because it would be so weird. She might have an obsession with Friends. She’s seriously slept with a Ross and Joey already.”
“No, she hasn’t.” I shake my head.
“Uh, yes, she has.” Amy laughs.
I’m watching the pedestrian crosswalk sign, waiting for it to light up with the walk symbol, trying to process the way her laugh just made me feel.
“And you know what?” She doesn’t wait for a response. “I would bet money that she’s knocked up before junior year. I just have this crazy feeling that she’s going to get pregnant, drop out, get married, and raise babies.”
“You sound offended by that.” I smile.
“I mean, to each their own. Have babies. Get married. More power to you. But why work your ass off to get into Michigan just to blow it on a guy?”
“But … a Chandler?” I smirk. “That would complete her trifecta of Friends male leads. That’s pretty impressive.”
“That would be an accomplishment.” She chuckles.
“Well, it’s still week one. Maybe she grew up with really strict parents and just needs to get it out of her system,” I suggest. “She seemed cool for the minute I was around her. Give it time.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t be so judgmental. This week has been stressful, which makes Megan’s boy-crazy ways more annoying, I guess. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
“Yeah, me, too. I’m sorry I took a few days to contact you. I needed to figure stuff out.” I know that my lack of contact since I dropped her off Sunday has been stressing her out. Hell, it stressed me out.
“It’s fine.” She waves a hand in the air.
“No, it’s not. I wanted to text you.” I pause to figure out what it is I want to say. “I just needed to know exactly what I was feeling before I started bringing your feelings into the mix. Does that make sense?” I sound selfish, but I don’t mean to be.
“I think so.” She gives me a placating nod.
“That didn’t come out like I’d wanted. I guess I’m just trying to say that I had to figure my own shit out so that I didn’t end up hurting or confusing you because, honestly, I did not see this coming.” The last sentence comes out with a chuckle.
“Me either,” she agrees with a shake of her head.
We stop on my front porch and face each other. I know there’s a lot of stuff we have to go over tonight, but looking at Amy now, I stop overthinking everything just for a moment, and I kiss her.
Nothing is discussed, but I can feel in the way that she kisses me back that everything is going to be okay. Each kiss tastes of possibilities and a desire for more.
More kisses.
More Amy.
More us.
It feels right. I’m overcome with a shit-ton of lust and desire, but more than that, I’m cloaked in a contentment that I’ve never felt and I can’t quite place.
Maybe I’ve never dated because I was meant to be with Amy all along. Perhaps nothing before felt right because it wasn’t with her. Or maybe my hormones are blurring my thoughts, and I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. Everything about this is foreign. Yet something inside me whispers that, even though I can’t see past the current cloud of desperate need I feel for Amy, what I’ll find on the other side will be even better.
And that’s quite thrilling.
Amy
Landon’s fiddling around with his phone, setting up the movie we’re going to watch. Meanwhile, the kiss on Landon’s front porch mere moments ago is playing on repeat in my mind. I yearn to do it again and again.
We spoke a lot on the walk over here, though I’m not sure we cleared anything up. All of this back-and-forth is making me crazy.
Sure, if this were any other guy, I’d call what we are doing—the saying a lot without saying anything, the flirting, the kissing—dating. But I can’t do that with Landon. There’s too much history. We know each other. We need to lay everything out in the open.
But I don’t want to be that girl. I don’t want to pester him for a label. He’s been in college two years longer than I have, so I’m following his lead. I don’t like it though. It’s not me. I’m not one to beat around the bush. Less than a week ago, had I wanted an answer from Landon, I’d have asked for one. This is new to both of us.
Landon plops down beside me. We’re on the small sofa in his room, facing a large flat screen. Landon’s bed is several feet away, taunting me with memories of Saturday night. The images of that night are making me sweat.
“I’m hot. Are you hot?” I ask, fanning my face with my hand.
“I’m okay, but I can turn on the ceiling fan.” Landon grabs a white remote on the side table next to the sofa and clicks it on.
I take in a deep breath. “So, you never said what movie we’re going to watch.”
“That’s because it’s a surprise.” He smiles. It’s a full-on devastating event, and my heart tightens.
I can’t even respond. I turn toward the screen as the movie starts. I know from the first note of the opening song what movie it is.
“Ah, my favorite!” I giggle.
Landon chose a true classic—Overboard with Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell. My mom, sisters, and I have watched this movie so many times that I have the entire movie memorized.
“I know.” Landon smiles. “Do you remember how many times you and Lily forced Jax and me to watch this? I remember you at twelve, prancing around the room, chanting, ‘Everyone wants to be me!’”
I throw my head back in laughter. “Oh my gosh! That’s such a good line. It’s right up there with, ‘I’m a short, fat … slut.’”
We both laugh, and it feels good. It feels normal.
I’m so grateful to Landon for choosing this movie because it’s brought us back to us. As soon as Goldie Hawn appears on the screen with her pretentious outfit, we become Landon and Amy again and not the two awkward people who were here a few minutes ago.
“I’m so glad they’re still together.” I reference the main characters. “You know hardly any Hollywood relationships last.”
We talk. We laugh. We eat all of his favorites from a local pizzeria called The Pizza House. We hang out, and it’s awesome.
The ending credits roll across the screen.
“So, what’s your favorite class so far?” Landon asks, turning toward me on the sofa before taking a bite of a breadstick.
“It’s hard to tell, but I think I’m really going to like Communications.”
“You’ve got Trueheart, right?”
I wipe the Parmesan che
ese off of my fingers with a napkin. “Yeah.”
“He’s cool. I liked that class.”
“How about you? How’s your class load so far?” I ask.
“Honestly, I don’t know.” He chuckles. “I’ve been distracted. I’ve been to all of my classes, but I couldn’t tell you anything about them.”
“That’s not good.” I grin with a shake of my head.
He shrugs. “It’s only the first week. I’ve got time.”
The mood in the room changes. There’s a weight to the air that wasn’t there before, and I’m both nervous and eager.
“Well, I’ve been off this week because I’ve been thinking about you, last weekend, all of it.”
I press my lips together and nod, urging him to continue.
“You know that I never planned any of that to happen.”
I’m finding it hard to breathe.
He touches my knee. “I don’t regret it, Amy. Not at all. I just don’t want you to think that I planned to have sex with my childhood friend the second she left home.”
“I don’t think that,” I reassure him.
“You’re my friend, first and foremost,” he says. “I never saw us together, like that. I truly didn’t. Something happened on Saturday. I’m not sure what it was, but I suddenly saw you differently. You know?”
I nod. “Yes, I do. It was the same for me.”
His hazel eyes capture mine. My chest rises and falls with deep breaths.
“You know me, Amy, better than most people do. You know that I’m not a relationship kind of guy. So, this week, I’ve had to really take the time to figure my thoughts out because they’re all new to me. You’re not just some girl, and your feelings matter to me. The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you.”
I’m frozen in place, waiting for him to get to where he’s going in this conversation.
“Anyway, I guess what I want you to know is that I want to explore what it’s like to be with you and just you. I have no idea if you’re on the same page or not, and if you’re not, that’s—”
His proclamation makes my heart flutter in my chest.
I cut him off, “I am. I’m on the same page. I’m totally on the same page.” I sound like a little girl, but I don’t care. I’m sick of reining in my emotions.
“Well, that’s good.” He chuckles. “Ames, I can’t promise I’m going to be good at it—this dating thing.”
“That’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” I reassure him. “We’ll be fine. We already have a lifelong foundation to build from. I think we’re off to a better start than most new relationships.”
“So, we’re in a relationship?” He raises an eyebrow, causing me to laugh.
“Yes, Landon.” I point between him and me. “That’s what we’re doing here.”
“So, does that mean that Amy Madison is my girlfriend?” He says the last word with a crinkle of his nose.
“The way you say it makes it sound like we’re twelve,” I kid.
“I kinda feel like it.” He grins. “I’m warning you. I’m going to suck at this.”
I shake my head. “No, you won’t. You’re going to be great at it.”
“How can you be sure?”
I inch closer to him. “Because I know you.”
“Exactly. That’s why you should run.”
“I know that you’d never risk hurting me or our families if you weren’t feeling something real.”
“True.” He lifts his hand to my face and drags his thumb across my lip. “Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
His voice trembles. “Promise me that, if we don’t work out, we’ll be okay.”
I take both of his hands in mine. “I promise, Landon. We will.”
“I’m serious, Amy. I want to be with you and see where this takes us. But that’s no guarantee that we’re going to work out.” He peers down at the floor and pulls in a breath. “Our families will always be close, and if we fail at this relationship thing, we can’t avoid each other. You have to promise me that, no matter what, we’ll always be friends.”
I palm his cheek. “Always.”
“Okay.” He sighs. “Then, it’s settled.”
I can’t help but grin. “It is. Now, kiss me, boyfriend.”
He shakes his head with a laugh.
Then, he kisses me.
And it’s perfect.
Amy
Today, I’m grateful for …
His kisses.
His eyes.
The way he makes me laugh.
My Communications 101 lecturer, Professor Trueheart, is deep, and I love him. He instructed us to all bring a small notebook to class today. I chose this cute, little, flowery one that my little sister Kiki gave me as a college going-away present. I’m glad that I get to use it.
Yet here it is. Open to page one. Professor Trueheart is calling it our gratitude journal.
Today’s lecture has been all about how the energy we put out into the universe is the energy we’ll receive back—the law of attraction. He says that too many people focus on what’s wrong in their lives, what they want to change, what they wish were different, and in turn, they attract negative energy and continue to be unhappy. He claims the key to true happiness is to appreciate what you have, tell the world what you’re thankful for, and always focus on the positive.
He’s currently listing additional books and resources we can check out for more information on it. I suppose it makes sense. I’ve known some real Debbie Downers in my life who complain about everything and are always unhappy.
He’s instructed us to jot down three things that we’re grateful for every day, even on our bad days. I’m assuming, at the end of the semester, when we talk about this assignment, we’ll all have noticed a shift in our happiness because of this positive focus and way of thinking.
I continue to listen to the professor as I write today’s date on the first blank page. I don’t have to think about my first entry at all. In fact, this entire assignment is going to be a piece of cake. The trickiest aspect of it will be writing down only three things daily.
His kisses.
Landon Porter can kiss. His lips must have some sort of magical quality because I’ve never experienced anything like it. I constantly think about his kisses. I dream about them. I crave them.
His eyes.
His eyes are enchanting. They’d be described as hazel, but that doesn’t do them justice. The color changes with his mood and the light. It’s mesmerizing. He radiates joy, warmth, and love with each look, each beautiful gaze. I stare into his eyes, and I feel so alive.
The way he makes me laugh.
From the time we were little, he could make me laugh until I cried. He doesn’t take life too seriously. His joy is contagious. To be around him is to be happy.
I’ve now drawn hearts around my three points of gratitude, and I have to laugh at myself. I’m so damn happy that it’s pathetic.
Professor Trueheart releases us, and I file out of the classroom with the rest of the freshmen. The warm sun greets my skin as I exit the building. I scream when I’m suddenly lifted off of the ground. The fear fades into laughter when I feel him behind me.
“You’re going to give me a heart attack,” I say as he puts me down.
“I missed you.” He softly kisses me on the curve of neck, and it sends tingles to my toes.
I turn to face him. “Don’t you have class?”
“Nope. The prof’s wife went into labor. The grad assistant was there to take over, but screw that. I wanted to see my girl.” His hands grip my hips, pulling me closer to him.
I melt when he calls me his girl. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” His voice lowers as his gaze drops to my lips.
I have time to lick them once before he kisses me.
The kiss is short, and when he pulls away, he asks, “Ready?”
“For?” I grin.
“You’ll see.”
We walk hand in hand acros
s campus. I tell him about Professor Trueheart’s class.
“Yeah, I loved that class. He’s an awesome guy.”
“He is,” I agree. “He’s just one of those people who everyone immediately loves, and no one really knows why. It’s just a quality he has.”
“Yep, I know what you mean. I have that same quality,” Landon says in all seriousness, making me laugh.
I shake my head. “Well, minus your extra dose of cocky, you actually do.”
After a few more minutes, Landon stops in a park by a huge oak tree. Ann Arbor has countless beautiful parks, little hidden gems of nature amid the hustle and bustle of the college campus.
“This is pretty.” I look around.
Everything is still lush and green. In another month, this place will be bursting with the colors of autumn as the leaves all change.
“Yeah, I come here to study sometimes. It’s usually quiet.”
Landon shrugs off his backpack and places it on the ground before opening it up. He pulls out a bright yellow blanket with block Ms all over it and shakes it before dropping it to the ground.
“It’s probably better suited for a football game, but that’s all the store had.”
“I love it.” I grin.
He sits atop the blanket and pats the spot next to him. I plop down cross-legged beside him.
Next, he produces two wrapped subs from his backpack and two bottles of Powerade. He hands me a wrapped sub. “Here’s a veggie for you.”
“Thank you. Is this from your favorite sandwich place that you’re always raving about?” I ask.
“Would I bring you any other?” He gifts me with his beautiful boy-next-door smile. My heart aches within my chest. I’m falling for this man who, for all intents and purposes, was my boy next door.
I take a bite of the sub sandwich and just take Landon in. “This is amazing. I love the sprouts. They’re my fave.” Placing the sandwich down, I grab my drink. “You know, I don’t know if I’ve ever been on a picnic before.”
“Sure you have. Remember, you, me, Jax, and Lily in your back field under that old oak tree?”
I chuckle. “Oh my gosh, yes … with our gourmet lunches of Cheetos, gummy bears, and Twinkies.”