Page 68 of It Must Be Love

"There was so much uncertainty during my recovery that I just like things being spelled out."

I turned my hand to be palm up on her thigh and she put hers on mine. I tangled our fingers. I hadn't held hands like this since I was in high school…maybe even earlier. I wasn't a hand holder. I wasn't a romantic. I wasn't a big gestures guy.

"Last night, you said you had questions, and we got distracted. One of your questions was about me kissing Ann."

She stilled. "You're allowed to kiss your girlfriend."

"Good news! Because I intend for us to kiss quite a lot."

I knew what I'd said. I'd done it on purpose, and her response was to sit frozen.

"What was your second question?"

"Am I your girlfriend?"

I grinned. "That was your second question?"

"No, it's…you know what I—"

"Would you like to be?" I interrupted.

She leaned back on the leather seat as the near-deserted streets, after all it was Christmas Day, allowed us to get through Boston traffic faster than ever.

"What does it mean? Being a girlfriend…your girlfriend?"

She asked the strangest questions, I thought. She had a need for specificity that probably came from her work as a programmer and program manager who focused intensely on details.

"What would you like it to be?" I countered.

"I've never been a girlfriend, so I don't know."

Her accident altered the trajectory of her life, stealing the everyday experiences most of us have. She'd never dated. She hadn't been in a relationship with a man who wasn't a friend or family member.

"I'd like to spend time with you—I'd like for us to get to know each other better; have experiences together. I'd like for us to make love."

"But you'd want to keep your life as is."

She remembered what I'd said about not liking to change my life when I was in a relationship. I wanted the woman to fit my needs.

"I don't think that's possible in a real relationship. And I wouldn't want to not change things—as that would mean I'd be working sixty-hour weeks and would never be able to see you."

"Is that what happened with Ann?"

The countryside began to unfold before us, a panorama of snow-clad fields and distant, rolling hills.

"She has a busy job as well. We usually saw each other, but I started to realize it was only when we were out with other people." I extricated my hand from hers to change lanes and allow a car behind us to pass. "I don't think that's the kind of relationship I want—but those are what I've had in the past."

Our destination started to get closer, and I hoped she'd enjoy the outing I'd planned at a private farm in Hamilton, known for its sleigh rides through the winter landscape.

"I'm not good in large social settings," Naya told me. "I've never been."

"You're an introvert, that's understandable."

"You're not."

"I think I'm somewhere in between. I get my energy from people around me, but I also have a need to be alone and recharge. You need more time on your own because people exhaust you."

Hayes was an introvert, and I knew his triggers and needs.

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