I Love You to Death (23 page)

∞

I’m locking up the shop late on Friday night, when I notice that Luke is still in the kitchen. I don’t know why I’m surprised, he always says goodbye to me when he leaves now, so I should know he’s still here. When I go in there, I discover he’s pulling out bowls and ingredients and actually looks as though he’s about to start cooking.

"What are you doing, shouldn’t you be packing up?" I ask him.

He looks up at me. "Oh hey Ash, nah I gotta get some things done tonight so I can take tomorrow off, big show remember?" he says smiling.

Yes, the big show tomorrow night. The one Luke nervously asked me to come and see the other day. I don’t know why this show’s any different from all of their others, but it must be a big deal if he’s taking a whole day off work to practice. It makes me think that maybe I shouldn’t go in case I mess it all up for them. But I know I’m kidding myself with that idea because I really want to go and I know in the end I will. He asked me to go, he wants to me to go. I want to go.

"So, you’re going to cook all night?" I ask him.

He smiles up at me, "Yep, for a couple of hours anyway. Do you wanna help me?"

I stand there looking at him. He’s turned back to the cupboard and is busy getting everything ready and doesn’t notice me staring at him. I should go. I should walk away and go home and leave him to it. Staying in here with just him will almost be too much. Staying in here with him and not touching him will be excruciating. I should go.

"Sure."

He looks up from the cupboard he’s crouched in front of, a tiny smile on his face. "Great," is all he says and something inside of me flips.

Everyone else has gone home, so I move away to finish closing up the shop, turning off all of the lights out front and making sure the door is locked. Suddenly, I realise I’m very nervous. I know I shouldn’t be, I’ve spent so much time with Luke before, a lot of it with no one else around. But deep down I know it’s because now, everything has changed. Now I’m allowing myself to feel things. Now I’ve admitted, at least to myself, how I feel about it all, and especially how I feel about him.

That he might possibly see all of that when he looks at me, that everything I feel is written all over my face.
That’s
what’s making me nervous.

When I come back into the kitchen I take a deep breath to try and calm myself down. Luke has put some music on and there are two open beers sitting on the bench. I put on the chef’s jacket he hands me. It’s miles too big and I realise it must belong to him. When he turns away I smell the fabric. Yes it’s Luke’s and it smells amazing, just like he does. It feels incredibly intimate to be wearing his clothing while we are both locked away in here. I don’t know if he’s noticing what he’s suddenly doing to me. I feel electric. The whole room feels electrified.

We’re standing in a lit kitchen at the back of a darkened shop. There is no one else here. No one else is going to come in for the rest of the night. Outside, life is going on as if we don’t exist. Inside, it is just the two of us. It’s just after nine o’clock on a Friday night.

We move about in silence for a while, the only sounds are Luke’s occasional instructions or his soft singing to the music that’s playing. It feels like my own private concert now and it’s so much better than listening to his CD. I savour it. I try not to mess anything up but I notice my hands won’t stop shaking. I think Luke sees it too. When he reaches for something, brushing past me as his hand lightly rests on my waist, I nearly drop the bowl I’m holding as a jolt of electricity shoots through me. I go to the cold room and get us a couple more beers just so I can breathe again. Inside I press my forehead against the back of the door like I’ve done so many times before, trying to cool myself down.

I need to cool down.

When I come back out, Luke has his back to me and I can see he is up to something. I put the beers on the bench and when he eventually turns around, he says entirely seriously, "So what do you think, a good look for tomorrow night?"

I look up at him and can see he has painted his face with flour, only he’s drawn on a nose and whiskers like the cat make-up the guy in Kiss used to wear.

I can’t help it, I burst out laughing. I don’t know if he’s done this to break the tension that I know we are both feeling. But when he looks at me with utmost sincerity as though he really wants my opinion on it, all I can think, is how hilarious he looks with a cat face on….in flour. He’s smiling at me now as he asks, "So maybe not then?"

I can’t stop laughing, it’s just so funny and so cute what he’s done. Tears are streaming down my cheeks now, but they are tears of laughter and although I can barely stand up straight, I feel so incredibly alive at this moment. I haven’t laughed like this in forever.

When I finally get myself under control, I look up and Luke is still standing there, looking at me now with a strange look on his adorable little cat face. Another giggle escapes me as I ask him, "What?"

"It’s really good to see you laugh like that," he says quietly.

I look at him, still smiling. "It feels good to do it again," I say honestly.

And there it is back again.

Electricity.

Tension.

Something.

I’m standing here, looking right at him.

He’s standing there, looking right at me.

We are both looking at only each other and suddenly, I notice just how close we’re standing.

He reaches out to brush the tears from my face, an action I have become so familiar with from him. Only this time the situation is different. This time he is not comforting me, I am actually happy. This time his touch sends tiny shivers all throughout my body. This time I smile and lean into his fingers. This time he takes a step closer, looking at me in a way I haven’t seen him do before. This time I reach my hand up to him, curl it around his neck, against the softness of his hair and pull him towards me, my other arm encircling his waist. This time I know exactly what’s going to happen when Luke’s hand slides into my hair and he takes another step, finally closing that distance between us.

This time Luke bends down and presses his lips to mine.

This time, Luke kisses me.

And this time, I kiss him back.

I am floating.

∞

"Tell me again Grandma!" I ask, wriggling further under the covers as she walked towards my bed.

"Again?" She says, a smile on her face. "Aren’t you sick of this story yet?"

"No!"

She sat down on the side of my bed, her hand gently brushing the hair back from my face. "Alright Ash, I’ll tell you again, then it’s time for sleep okay?"

"Okay."

Smiling, she began my favourite bedtime story. The one I never got tired of hearing, the one she told me over and over again, no matter how many times I asked, she always kept telling me. The story I adored, the story I wanted for my own.

"I first met your grandad when I was about nine years old. I guess I was about your age. He had just moved with his family to the house next door and I remember sitting on the front veranda watching the workers unpack their house. This took all day, but not once did I move because I wanted to watch all of their furniture spill from the truck and be taken inside. I liked to try and imagine where each item was going, to what room and where in that room it would be put. We had known the previous owners and I had been in the house many times. Then sometime in the afternoon, your grandfather walked up to our front porch bearing two glasses of lemonade. With a very serious look on his face, he handed one of the glasses to me and said, ‘this is for you, it’s thirsty work this move, so I thought you might need it,’ before he turned and walked back towards his house."

She is smiling now as she continues.

"I couldn’t believe it, a boy, a new neighbour was handing me a glass of lemonade! Of course that was only the beginning. The next morning he came and knocked on our door, asked if I would like to come and play. I did of course, I didn’t want to seem rude, but more than that I wanted to find out where all of their furniture had gone inside the house! Then a few weeks later when school started back, he came and he walked me to school. Every morning he’d do this and then every afternoon, he would walk me back home. This continued on for years and years, every morning he would be waiting on the front porch and every afternoon I would find him at the school gates. My girlfriends teased me mercilessly, but he never stopped and deep down I secretly enjoyed it. By the time we were sixteen and going to local dances he would ask if I would accompany him. I always said no, because young girls didn’t go out alone with young boys back in those days. But I did allow myself to dance with him, every time he asked. He asked at every dance, for every song. Then one day we suddenly found ourselves at nineteen and everything changed."

I could feel my eyes starting to shut as sleep pulled me in, but I fought to keep them open because I knew my favourite part was coming up.

"It was July, late in the afternoon and I was sitting on the front porch reading a book. There was music playing in the house and it was drifting out the windows because the air was still very warm and they were all open. The sun was just going down and I was thinking I would need to head in soon because all of the light from the day would soon be gone and I wouldn’t be able to see the words on the page. Just as I was standing up from the porch swing, from the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of your grandfather leaning against the car in his drive. I didn’t know it, but he had been watching me as I sat there reading. When I asked him this, he said yes and when I asked why, he simply said, ‘I was trying to work up the courage to come and ask you to dance.’ Oh well, I remember I blushed a furious shade of red then, my cheeks must have been as red as the setting sun in the sky. Eventually I managed to say, ‘what here?’ And at that, your grandfather pushed off the car and walked towards me. As he came up the steps to our porch, he didn’t once take his eyes off of me and as his arm went around my waist and he pulled me towards him, he simply said, ‘I would dance with you anywhere.’ And it was at that point that I fell in love with him, or maybe I just finally realised how much I had always been in love with him."

Grandma’s hand was on her heart now as she told me this part and even in the darkened room I could see the smile on her face, the glisten of happy tears in her eyes.

"And the rest Asha, as you know, is history."

I giggled then, loving the story, no matter how many times I heard it.

"Now time for sleep young lady," Grandma said, leaning over to kiss me goodnight. "Tomorrow we’ll have a proper bedtime story."

"No Grandma, this is my favourite," I remember saying.

She laughed then, because she knew she would be telling it to me again tomorrow night, before switching off the bedside lamp and whispering, "Alright then the same story tomorrow night. Sweet dreams my beautiful girl," and walking quietly out of my room.

I fell asleep floating into a land of happy endings, of my own prince charming and a love slowly creeping up on you when you least expected it, until one day whilst dancing on the front porch to music as the sun set slowly in the sky, colouring it brilliant shades of red and orange and gold, you finally realised, it had been there in front of you all along.

A perfect ten, that which is utterly flawless

∞

Playlist
:

1. Alibi – 30 Seconds to Mars

2. All you wanted – Sounds Under Radio

3. Just the way you are – Bruno Mars

4. Her song – Luke Taylor (BONUS TRACK)

∞

Being in love is the strangest and most exhilarating of experiences. Strange; realising you’re unintentionally, so totally under the control of someone else. That you would give up anything and everything for that person. That they are all you think about, night and day. That you just want to spend every second with them and you miss them when they’re gone. That just being around them is enough, but to smell, touch, taste is so much better.

That they would do anything for you, just as you would do anything for them.

That it can destroy you, the idea of losing them.

But wanting them this much, can almost destroy you too.

The exhilarating part? Well, it’s knowing all that and doing it anyway.

Most people would never think these thoughts like I do. Most people believe that nothing can ever go wrong. Because when you love someone and are loved by that person in return, the whole world seems perfect. Every single thing, every single moment, every single day and every single second. All of it seems perfect.

But I know it’s also dangerous, that it can end and it can end so badly because I’ve lived through it before. I know it can happen and it’s there in the back of my mind, all the time, every day.

But right now, I’m doing it anyway.

Because honestly, at this point, I couldn’t walk away, even if I wanted to.

∞

Work is strange without Luke here.

And I realise suddenly that I miss him.

And I really want to see him.

And all I can think about is last night.

Last night, when Luke kissed me.

Last night, when I kissed Luke.

We kissed for such a long time, both of us were wearing the flour on our faces by the end of it. The tension that was in the room only magnified. I remember feeling it surging through me, surging through him. Both of us were shaking. I didn’t know what I wanted or what he wanted, but I know I liked the feel of his arms holding me tight against him, the feel of his lips on mine, his breath in my mouth.

I think I wanted more of it.

Afterwards, we tried to go back to cooking, but I don’t think either of us was very successful. We didn’t talk much, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was just a blur of accidental touches, stolen glances and secret smiles, all of which kept my pulse racing. Sometime later he walked me home, our arms occasionally touching as we walked side by side. Every time my skin made contact with his, my whole body felt like a burst of fire shot through my veins. It made it hard to breathe and eventually I just grabbed his hand with mine, wrapping my other hand around his bicep and pulling him close to me. I wanted to maintain the contact, wanted to maintain that feeling. When I did though, he stopped walking and dragged me into a doorway to kiss me again. I remember he pulled me tight against him as he lent back against the door, his arms wrapping around me, my arms wrapping around him. I remember he kissed me again and again, urgently, his soft moans making me not just breathless, but hungry, wanting.