Page 49 of This I Promise You
“YoudolikeSchitt’s Creek,” I say as Scott repeats the question.
“That’s the understatement of the century.” Paul giggles. “I might be obsessed. I’ve watched all the seasons at least ten times. Maybe more. September third is also my birthday, so that’d be sad if I couldn’t remember that.”
My eyes pop open. “Damn. I mean I like it, but I think I might have seen them all twice, maybe?” I don’t comment on his birthday, but I do make a mental note to remember it.
“So sad.”
“Question number two,” Scott starts and I shut up.
There is no way I’m messing up the excitement in this boy’s eyes. I love it. Something about it is infectious. The way he sits up and his head tilts toward the sound of Scott’s voice, and he keeps wiggling in his chair. It’s making my heart happy, but, like, how? And he keeps glancing at me, and it’s not just a regular glance. There’s something cutesy, something wanting in his eyes, and I can’t get over it. Today’s been amazing, and I kind of want to tell Aidan I told him so.
“Oooh, radish,” Paul whispers and starts writing down the word.
“Huh? Oh! The answer.” I nod like I have a clue. I didn’t even hear the question.
“It’s the flavor of wine David says they should make for Moira Rose´ when he’s drunk,” Paul fills me in.Despite his obvious love of the show he doesn’t seem to mind that I zoned out looking at him.
“Ah, yeah. I think I remember that.” Maybe.
Eight questions later, our answer sheet is filled out with not a single blank and the confidence in Paul’s face tells me we—well,he—dominated that round. I did know the name of David and Patrick’s shop though.Rose Apothecary. We blurted that one a little loud at the same time.
I lean back in my chair and hand our answer sheet off to the gamemaster to be scored. I’m feeling a little more confident about our chances now. Maybe third. But I never expected to win, that’s not why I brought him here. I wanted to show him a cute little place that I like, even if I don’t come often enough. I don’t know, it’s like opening up some I guess, and welcoming him in, just a little.
“I was no help until the very end,” Paul laughs and wraps his hands around his cup.
“Not like I did that great, but you damn well ruled the last round,” I tell him.
“Not like we won.”
“I mean don’t be stupid.” I giggle and stretch my arm across the table, putting my hand over his as if it’s something I do all the time. Is it bad I want to touch him?
Part of me recoils inside myself and wants to pull back. Surely he can’t want this, but I push that side of me down and focus on the smile on his face and the softness of his hand.
Just enjoy the moment, Easton.
A few minutes later, after finding out we did manage to pull off third place, and a little mock victory cheer, we’re browsing the books together. I drag him to the horror section first, where all my favorites are, and watch him silently judge my book selection. Guess he’s not a horror gay.
“I’m beginning to think you don’t like horror.” I let the back of my hand graze his.
“More into the classics,” he answers. “But there is a book Huxley told me I had to read. Wonder if they have it here?”
The interest in his eyes returns, and inside I fight back the feeling that I was boring him. “What book?”
“She mentioned it was new adult. I think? It’s queer, too,” he tells me, and I immediately start off toward the general fiction section. “I’ll text her real quick.”
“This way.”
“Called Wolf-something—oh, it’sWolfsong. By T.J. Klune,” Paul reads the text he just got from Hux.
Oh, fantasy. I redirect us down the neighboring aisle. I’ve heard of the author but never read them. We stop in the fantasy section and start browsing.
“Ks…” Paul squints, index finger wagging along the shelf under the spines.
“Uh…” I’m in the Ks now, and—
“Found it!” Paul grabs a thick black book off the shelf. “Wolfsong. Yes!”
He looks so excited. It’s adorable, and in that moment I do a quick glance behind me. The room seems clear. I jump forward and kiss his cheek like he had mine in the car.
