Page 89 of Last First Date

Once we were done with dinner, we decided to take a walk. The night air was crisp but not too cold.

“Have you ever been in love, Knox?” she asked out of the blue. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

I looked at her, caught off guard by her question. “I’m not sure,” I confessed. “I’ve had relationships, but have I been in love? Not like they describe it in books or movies, no. But I think love is subjective, don’t you?”

She looked thoughtful. “I guess it could be. I mean, love can’t be the same for everybody. That would be too easy.”

Then, she grew quiet for a few moments. It was wistful and longing. There was something so tender about it, something that made my chest ache. I wanted to fill that void for her.

“I want to know what love feels like,” she finally said. “Not just hearing about it or reading about it but actually experiencing it. You know that kind of love where you can’t imagine life without the person.”

It was clear enough to me then that I wanted to be that person for Waverly. I wanted to show her what love could feel like.

We wound our way back to the hotel. I was tempted to ask her to come to my room, but I didn’t want her to think that was all I was after.

“Would you like to go for a coffee?” I asked, hoping it didn’t sound too desperate. I just wanted more time with her.

Her eyes sparked with amusement. “At this hour? You’re going to have us up all night.”

“That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea,” I confessed, grinning at her.

Waverly chuckled, a rich, satisfying sound that warmed me from the inside out. “Alright,” she agreed. “Coffee, it is.”

We found a twenty-four-hour diner near our hotel. We sat in a corner, sipping our hot beverages, her with a cinnamon latte and me with black coffee.

“Is your family in St. George?” I asked her.

“My mother, yes.” She nodded. “Not in St. George but outside Enterprise.”

The question sounded casual, but I wanted to know how set on Utah she was. Would she ever move?

“Are you close?” I asked.

She snorted. “That’s a tough question. I think she’s close to me—more like close to my wallet. She’s had a hard life and doesn’t seem interested in changing that.”

I nodded, understanding the complexity of relationships between parents and children. It added a depth to Waverly I hadn’t seen before.

“I know what that’s like,” I said.

She looked surprised. “You do?”

“Yeah,” I admitted with a rueful smile.

“But you and your grandfather seem to have a pretty good relationship.”

“We do,” I agreed. “Although he’s an old-fashioned man. He has ideas about life that are just a little antiquated.”

She laughed, a twinkling sound that echoed the chime of late-night-diner utensils. “Don’t we all have an old soul in our life like that?”

I grinned back at her, surprised by how easy it was to open up. There was something about Waverly that made me want to share more, to unravel the parts of myself I usually kept hidden.

“We do,” I agreed.

“Your grandfather is my old soul. He’s been very good to me. I think of him as my own grandfather.”

“He has that effect on people,” I said, laughing. “He’s very generous.”

“I’m very grateful to him for giving me a chance.”