Page 19 of Paths
He’s had to have had at least three glasses of wine by now, I’ve had a pretty heavy hand as we’ve progressed. Not to mention, this is the fastest wine tasting I’ve ever done. I think I’ve only been semi-answering his questions for maybe five minutes.
He sets the glass down roughly. “A mushroom’s a vegetable.”
“No.” I pick up the last bottle, a blend of reds. “It’s not a plant, it’s fungi. Some would even classify it as a meat since they have similar vitamins.”
“Who would classify a mushroom as a meat?” he probes, picking up the red blend.
I shrug, watching him down the last tasting just as quickly as the previous eight. I’ve done this long enough to tell he didn’t enjoy the wine at all, but did it solely to talk to me. “You’re done. What do you think?”
He sits the glass down and leans into the bar. “I think you didn’t tell me shit about yourself other than your favorite color is celery, which again, is a fucking vegetable.”
“It’s also a color,” I refute.
“Maybe, but I hardly know anything about you, Maya.”
I lean down, putting my elbows to the bar to get close to him. I’m almost as close as I was yesterday when I was working on his shoulder, but now I’m face-to-face. I get to take in all of his features. His dark brown hair with glints of gold peeking through here and there, a strong jaw below his perfect lips, and those long, dark lashes, so long they frame his piercing blue eyes, much bluer than mine.
After I’ve taken a moment to appreciate his features, I lower my voice to almost a whisper. “Then tell me, Grady, how did you break your arm, dislocate your shoulder, and get that fresh scar on the side of your head?”
He doesn’t flinch or move a muscle, but those blue eyes flare just enough, I know he had to work for it.
It appears I’m not the only one holding truths close to the vest.
When he minutely gives his head two shakes, I lower my voice further and respond to his nonverbal answer. “Touché.”
He narrows his eyes as I stand quickly and turn for the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” he calls for me.
I look over my shoulder as I push the kitchen door open. “I’m ordering your lunch.”
“I didn’t tell you what I wanted.”
“Oh, I know what you want, Grady.”
With that, I leave him sitting at the bar shaking his head. Just because he’ll be getting cabbage roll soup, I’ll order him two desserts. They are a little on the smallish side, after all.
Chapter 6 – Here Come the Consequences
Grady –
“Did you do your exercises yesterday?”
“What’s your favorite food from a box?”
She drops my arm from where she was doing something called a pendulum stretch, and I can’t lie, her exercises don’t feel good.
“I’m serious,” she says.
She might say she’s serious, but her face shows me she’s a mix between pissed and suppressing a grin. There’s something about that look—I can’t get enough of it.
“I’m serious, too. There’s gotta be something you eat that isn’t organic or a fungus. In fact, I refuse to do any more of your torture-chamber demonic aerobics until you tell me.”
She puts her hands on her hips. She’s wearing a pair of tight black jeans with a shitload of rips up the front, and a pair of red Chucks. But unlike when I sat at the bar in the tasting room longer than necessary so I could ask her questions and watch her work, she’s got on a girly hoodie, so I can’t see the rest of her curves. But that’s okay, her face is close and her hands are on me—something I’ve been waiting for since she said she was coming back to torture me some more.
She sighs and shakes her head. “You’re the worst patient ever and I’ve had some doozies.”
I take a step, closing the small distance she created when she dropped my arm. “You’ve got to like one processed food, Maya. No one is that hardcore. You might want to be the picture of health to the rest of the world, but you can tell me. I promise we’ll get back to the torture, but throw me a bone—something.”
