To Be Your Only

by Rae Kennedy

  “Hey.” I smile and wave as I walk toward his shiny white truck. I’m just going to be totally cool. Act like there wasn’t any weirdness last night.

  Nope.

  Any thoughts of kissing Eric were just because I am orgasm-deprived and unusually horny and we’ve become closer recently. That’s it—I’m starting to care for him as a friend and my lady parts confused those feelings with other kinds of feelings. I am not attracted to him. It’s just been a while since I’ve been so close with a warm-blooded guy. And he’s nice. Still annoying. But nice. And we sort of get along pretty well. And yeah, that’s it. It’s a real thing that when you find someone’s personality attractive that they become more physically attractive to you as well. That’s science.

  “Hey!” Eric calls as he climbs out and runs around to me. He hands me a to-go cup of coffee. “I wasn’t sure what you normally get, but the barista said this is really popular. It’s a caramel vanilla latte.”

  I take the warm cup. “That sounds great, thanks.” Steam rises from the lid and it smells wonderful. I look back to him. “You went all the way into town to get us coffee?”

  He shrugs. “I was up early. Ready?” He opens the passenger door for me.

  “Oh, I figured I’d drive.”

  “Up to you. I just know that you were a bit upset after you visited him last time and I thought it’d take a little stress off if you didn’t have to worry about driving.”

  I regard him for a moment. Why is he being so thoughtful and un-annoying right now?

  “Okay.” I step up into the truck and he closes the door behind me.

  We ride quietly for a while, the radio on low in the background. There are few other cars on the road. Mostly corn and pastures in the distance. I sip my coffee and try not to think about how much I hate that my grandpa is so far away from me and his home and everything he knows.

  But the coffee is really good and the way Eric is low-key bopping his head to the music is kind of cute.

  A catchy guitar riff plays through the speakers and then the telltale, “Let’s go girls.”

  “Yasss!” Eric turns up the volume and Shania’s voice blasts through the speakers. “This is my jam.”

  I don’t even hear her, though, because Eric is belting right along with her. Even the parts where she sort of talk-sings. He nails every word. He’s not a great singer by any means, but the confidence with which he projects this female empowerment ballad is amazing.

  I’m watching him with a huge smile as he sings and snaps with so much sass.

  “You know all the lyrics to Shania Twain’s ‘I Feel Like a Woman’?” I ask as the song finally winds down.

  He puts his index finger up to stop me. “First of all, the title is actually ‘Man! I Feel Like a Woman.’ Second of all, of course I do. This song is iconic. And third of all, I lip-synced to this song in my eighth-grade talent show where I took second place, so if I didn’t know all of the words I would basically be a disgrace.”

  “Only second place, huh?”

  “I was robbed.”

  “What act took first?”

  “Some girl, I don’t remember what she did. It was probably something that actually qualifies as a talent, but if I don’t remember it, how good could it have been?”

  “That’s sound logic.”

  “Right? Anyway, I’m sure it wasn’t anywhere near as good as juggling apples while eating them,” he says with a quick wink.

  I sit up straight in my seat. “You remember my pageant talent act?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? It was only a couple years ago. We all saw you win. Thought you were going to go up to the state level.”

  “Yeah, well, no. I only got into the pageants sophomore and junior year for the scholarship opportunities, and when I finally decided I didn’t want to go to college after all, it didn’t make sense to keep going. Plus, I don’t think the pageant scene was really my thing. I did enjoy doing my hair and makeup, though.”

  Eric bobs his head to the music and bangs out a beat on the steering wheel as we drive along.

  “So,” he says casually, “since you’re not going to school, what do you want to be doing?”

  “Ugh. You and my mom should form a club. Why do I have to know what I want to do with my life right now?”

  “You don’t. I was just making conversation.”

  “Psh. I’ll probably end up working at the diner. At least until my mom fires me again.”

  Eric smiles wide, a small laugh escaping his lips. “Jimmy Rogers had it coming.”

  “You heard about the shake incident?”

  “Mm-yep.”

  “He really did.”

  * * *

  When Eric and I walk through the doors to the care facility, we are greeted by the woman behind the counter. She has a friendly smile, her curly black hair is streaked with white, and she’s wearing pastel pink scrubs which seem to be the only spot of color in the whole place.

  She checks us in and gives us guest badges.

  “Do you know the way to his room?” she asks.

  “Yes. I was here last week.”

  “That’s great. Visitors always do a world of good for the residents. And you picked a great time—Jerry is having a good day today.”

  I nod and Eric follows me down the hallway. The hall is wide and seems to go on forever. The carpet is gray with darker gray speckles. The walls have white plastic paneling under a chair rail, and above the chair rail, the walls are painted a slightly darker shade of off-white. All the doors look the same.

  When we get to my grandpa’s door, I stop and take a deep breath. I don’t want to think about him being sad and lonely here. I don’t want him to be confused. And I really hope she was right when she said he’s having a good day.

  “Hey.” Eric comes up next to me. “It’ll be okay.” He takes my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

  He opens the door for us and we step in. I don’t want to let go of his hand, and he doesn’t make a move to take it away, so I keep holding on tight.

  Grandpa is sitting on the edge of his bed with his back to us. A young nurse with a clipboard is undoing the Velcro to a blood pressure cuff and removing it.

  “Oh look, Jerry, your visitors are here!” She helps him turn in the bed to see us.

  There’s recognition in his face when his clear gray eyes land on me. “Ky-la,” he says slowly.

  He glances between me and Eric and our hands laced together and he smiles. It’s a big, happy smile—something I haven’t seen on his face in a long time. Maybe since before Grandma died.

  The nurse smiles and heads toward the door. “I’ll be by in a little while to check in on you. Ring the button if you need anything.”

  Grandpa’s face light up. “We-es?”

  My eyes bulge. I’m sort of stunned. Guess he really was listening to me all those times I went on and on about Wes. I glance to Eric to give him an oh my god this is amazing look but he’s looking down, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

  I move toward Grandpa. “Oh no, Pops, this is—”

  But Eric cuts me off, getting to him first and putting his hand out to him. With a big smile, Eric says, “I’m Wes. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Kyla talks about you all the time.”

  Grandpa slowly lifts his arm. Eric takes his fragile hand gently, placing his other over the top, and shakes. When they’re done shaking hands, Eric slings his arm around my shoulders and Grandpa nods, his eyes sparkling in the rays of morning light.

  I give Eric a sidelong glance. What the hell is this?

  He tightens his arm around me and winks. “Kyla’s the best. We’re so happy together. Right, babe?”

  I narrow my eyes at him. But Grandpa looks happy. He mouths words, some noises coming out that I can’t decipher as he points between us. His expression one of pure elation.

  “Right,” I say. “You ready for your shave, Pops?”

  Eric sits quietly in the corner and watches while I lather up Grandpa’s face
and shave him with one of those cheap plastic razors. I try not to grumble about it. But they couldn’t even spring for a quadruple blade? I'm pleased that he’s had a haircut since the last time I saw him, even though it’s different than how he likes it.

  “Where were we?” I ask as I start on his cheek. “Gracie, right. Well, she's having a wonderful time—” Shit. Can’t mention anything about her being on tour with a band right now in front of Eric. “She’s having a very educational summer. Learning lots of new things.” Lots of naughty new things.

  “What else... Oh! Wes and I are going on a date tonight.”

  Eric clears his throat behind me.

  “A double-date, actually, with his friend, Eric. Gracie’s brother.”

  “Yeah, that Eric,” Eric chimes in, “he’s one great guy. He’s so funny and handsome...”

  I look at him flatly. “Mm-hmm.”

  “Of course, Kyla doesn’t think he’s as handsome as me. She thinks I’m the most handsome, right, honey?”

  I look up from Grandpa’s chin to see Eric grinning at me. “Right. You are the most handsome.”

  He has that mischievous look in his eyes and I can’t tell if he’s picking on me about my crush on Wes or if he’s just proud of himself for getting me to tell him to his face that he’s handsome.

  “But Eric isn’t nearly as funny as he thinks he is,” I add.

  I finish up shaving just before the young nurse comes back in to check on Pops.

  “Y’all can take him down to the common room, if you’d like. It’s right next to the cafeteria and they’ll start serving lunch in half an hour or so.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “Can we take him outside?” Eric asks as he comes up behind me and puts his hand on my shoulder.

  “Of course.” She smiles at Eric and helps us get Grandpa into the wheelchair.

  We wheel him out the back and Eric steers us toward a patch of grass off the sidewalk where there’s a little bench under a shady tree.

  I park Grandpa by the bench and sit next to him. The bench squeaks when Eric joins. And then we just sit quietly. Yeah, the sound of cars driving by is more prevalent than birdsong, but it is quite a nice little spot. I try to focus on the small things—the beautiful, peaceful bits of nature Grandpa always seemed to enjoy. The way the fluffy white clouds float in stark contrast to the brilliant blue sky. The way the sun glints off each blade of green grass. When the breeze subtly changes direction.

  Eric stretches his arm across the back of the bench behind my shoulders and I have the urge to lean into him. I wish he were sitting closer so it wouldn’t be so obvious.

  I watch Grandpa’s face as he gazes around, up to the tree branches and over to a flowering bush nearby where a honeybee is buzzing around. He has the faintest curve to his lips, that look of contentedness that shows through the haziness in his eyes.

  * * *

  “Thank you for coming with me today.”

  “Sure. I had a good time and I’m glad I was able to keep you company.” He puts his truck into park as we come to a stop in front of my house.

  “So...”

  He quirks up a smile. “So.”

  For some reason, I want to invite him in—or invite myself over to his place. I don’t really feel like saying goodbye and I really, really don’t feel like walking into my empty house right now.

  “I guess I should let you go so you can start getting ready for the date,” he says.

  “How long do you think it takes me to get ready?” I look at the time—it’s barely two. “Whoa, I only have five hours? You’re right, that’s barely enough time for my whole routine. I might have to skip bathing in the blood of my enemies. It’s great for the skin but nobody talks about how long it takes to drain the blood from a body. And the clean-up? Nightmare.”

  He chuckles. “I knew there had to be a secret to your flawless porcelain skin.” He says it with a flourish of his hand and even though I know he’s joking, I’m choosing to take his words as a sincere compliment.

  “Actually, the real secret is that I wear sunscreen religiously.” I glance down to his arm resting on the center console between us and I want to trace my fingertips along all of his freckles. “You should probably wear sunscreen more often too.” When I look back up, his eyes are locked on mine. “You know, since your skin is so fair.”

  “You’re right. Are you volunteering to slather up my body the next time I take my shirt off while we’re working? It’d be a win-win for both of us.” He raises an eyebrow.

  “You’re the worst,” I say while smiling.

  “I think what you meant to say is, I’m the best.”

  “Yes, that is exactly what I meant. How are you reading my mind?”

  “I don’t have to read your mind. I can read your face.” He taps the end of my nose on the word face and smiles smugly.

  Can he read my face? I try to recall all of the strange and lustful thoughts I’ve been having around him lately. Has my face been betraying me?

  No. Impossible.

  I put on my everything’s fine smile. “How about you? Are you excited for the date tonight? Are you all ready for it?”

  “Yeah, it should be fun. Don’t have anything I need to do other than shower and dress, especially with this cool haircut.” He winks.

  His hair looks clean and finger-combed, but a little all over the place. “Do you have any mousse or hair-gel you can put in it?” I ask.

  “No. Do I need some?”

  “Um, this cut would look a little bit better with a style to it.”

  “I need a style now?”

  “Just like how I did it last night with the water. Put a little blob of mou—”

  “What quantifies a little blob?”

  “Like a nickel-sized dab.”

  “Okay.”

  “And then you want to part it over there and then swoop it back.”

  “Like this?” He drags his fingers through his hair while looking in the rearview mirror.

  “Kind of. But swoop it. No, swoop. Swoop!” I let out an exasperated sigh. “Here, I’ll show you.”

  I get up on my knees and lean over him, hunching so I don’t hit my head on the roof. I’m close enough to smell his hair, his skin. It sends me back to when he was wrapped around me, teaching me to ride Daphne. It reminds me of warmth and comfort.

  “Like this.” I lick my fingers and make the side part then show him how brush the hair on top back. “But make sure it has some volume. Your hair’s thick so it shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “Did you just spit in my hair?”

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

  He looks up at me as I continue swooping his hair back and to the side. “See. Much better.”

  I sit back on my heels as he looks in the mirror and gives a small nod of approval. “Yeah that looks good. Well, I guess I better let you get to your bloodbath.”

  “Right. See you later.”

  He nods and we sit for a second, neither of us moving, something silent in the air. Something unsaid that I can’t quite figure out.

  “Yep. See you on our date,” he finally says.

  Our date. Our date—with other people. Right.

  “See you tonight.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Wes rings the doorbell just after seven.

  When I answer, he’s standing on the front stoop. His bright white smile stands out against his tan skin and his light blue button-up shirt makes it impossible not to notice his eyes of the same color.

  He’s holding a small bouquet of colorful flowers. They’re beautiful. Perfect, actually. They remind me of the wildflowers growing outside Eric’s cottage. I wonder if he’s picking up Lucy right now. Did he get her flowers, too? I mean, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me either way.

  “Here, I got you these.” Wes hands me the little bouquet with a shy smile. “I realize I’m a few minutes late. I wanted to give you enough time in case you had one of those wardrobe-meltdown-mis
hap-things.”

  “I actually did have a minor shaving incident, so I appreciate that you took my warning seriously. Come in, come in.”

  He stands just inside my front door as I fill a vase with water for the flowers. I set them in the middle of the kitchen table and when I look back to him, he’s smiling at me with his hands in his pockets. His shirt sleeves are rolled up and his jeans are clean. As I get closer, he smells freshly showered and it hits me—this is really real. I am going on a date with Wes. This is a moment I’ve dreamt about. And he really is so sweet and handsome. And yet—I’m not feeling as nervous as I thought I’d be. No flutters in my stomach.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready,” I say as we walk out the door.

  Wes opens the passenger side door of his truck for me. “You look really pretty tonight,” he says as he gives me a hand up and glances down at my lilac sundress.

  “Thanks.” I press my hand to his arm to steady myself as I climb in. Damn, those muscles are rock hard—and he wasn’t even flexing. “You look very nice, too. This blue really suits you. Definitely your color. It brings out your eyes.”

  His smile widens and I think I see some color darkening his cheeks before he shuts the door and walks to the driver’s side.

  “Stay there,” he says when we pull into the parking lot of the diner. He runs around the front of the truck to open the passenger door and offers me his hand again. So gentlemanly.

  The diner is a little white building straight out of the fifties with red and chrome accents and pink and blue neon lights. The bell rings as Wes opens the door to the restaurant, letting me walk in ahead of him, his hand lightly on my back.

  “Kyla!” Charlotte calls from behind the counter. “I didn’t know you were coming in tonight!” She comes around to us, her long poodle skirt swishing around her slim legs.

  God, I don’t miss that uniform. A white button-down shirt with a large scalloped collar isn’t flattering on girls with large chests. But Charlotte looks adorable in it. She’s super petite with long, sandy blonde hair that’s tied back in a blue ribbon. She has big, round brown eyes and her two front teeth are slightly longer than the others, giving her smile a little bit of a chipmunk quality. That smile along with her dimples and tiny stature make her look a lot younger than twenty-three.