Page 54 of Gracie Harris Is Under Construction

“Yes,” I reply in a soft whisper—to answer the question and as a way to give permission for his hand to continue rising.

I gathered from our interviews that intimacy hasn’t been a part of Josh’s life for at least a year, but he is definitely not rusty. He explores me while he pushes my head to the side and kisses my neck. I feel an intensity that I’ve missed and it makes me realize just how badly I want this to happen.

Nothing over the past year has felt like this. Every hard date, every underwhelming and confusing night has led me to this moment right now. No one has truly known me when I invited them to my bed, and I have never let a man know me after. I have spent the year moving between feelings of pain and confusion, heartbreak and longing. In this moment, however, all I can feel is a sense of what is right and real and meant to be.

It doesn’t take long for my breath to quicken and moans to escape as a wave rocks my entire body. I say his name quietly into his ear as I come undone. Before I can fully return to my senses, he picks me up, wraps my legs around his back, and walks me down the hallway to the guest room.

Time stops as it hits us both that this is really happening. We take a few moments just to stare, our foreheads pressed together. I move first to pull his shirt over his head. He reaches behind to unzip my sundress and push the straps to the side so it falls to the floor. When I move my hands to his belt and undo his pants, hemoans and tells me how badly he wants me. Through every step, our eyes never leave each other. The intensity of the moment makes me dizzy, and yet before I can lose my balance, we are on the bed.

There is too much anticipation—too much hunger—from us both for this to be delicate. My hands press into his back, and I urge him on. Our bodies move in perfect, forceful harmony. He doesn’t hold back, and his moment arrives with a deep ferocity.

After a minute, while his breath is still quick and I feel his heartbeat against my chest, I whisper, “Again.”

—

It’s well pastmidnight and we are lying in bed, my head buried in his shoulder and a leg draped over his body. We are tangled, tired, messy, and firmly above the clouds.

Josh breaks the sweet silence and turns onto his side to look at me, locking eyes intently. “I want to tell you something,” he says. “Three days ago, James and I were at breakfast, and he asked me when I was going to grow a pair and tell you how I feel.”

He’s trying to kiss me again in the middle of telling this story. I giggle and pull away just a bit so that he’ll stay focused.

“I told him that I recently heard you give an interview—theCosmoone—and you said that you weren’t sure you were ready to open your heart and what it would mean to dive back in. I decided at that moment that I would rather spend every day just being around you without it being romantic than doing something stupid to ruin it—I almost did the night I made you dinner,” he says, before adding, “Of course, James told me I was being a big baby.”

“Did he say ‘baby’?” I ask playfully.

Josh laughs. “No, he definitely used a different word. And he gave me a speech about how good timing isn’t always what we think it is and a bunch of wise-older-brother shit, but he was right. I guess I just want you to know that this wasn’t a sudden thing for me.”

I have my hand on his chest and can feel his heart beating briskly under his skin. I say nothing, but he continues.

“I’m also really glad you made the first move because I cannot imagine a world where we are not right here, right now,” he says. That might be the most romantic thing a man has said to me in a long time.

“Thank my therapist,” I finally say quietly but without hesitation or shame. “In typical ‘me fashion,’ I was trying to hold my feelings close to the vest but obviously didn’t do a very good job. In our last session she told me to be brave and just see what happens. She was obviously right.”

“I really like who I am when I’m with you, Gracie,” he says. “And that’s more special to me than you might realize.”

I’m struck at the moment by how there are no walls between us. We are not embarrassed to share how we got here. We have learned so much about each other over this past month, and there is still so much to discover.

“I like you a lot, Gracie,” he says.

“Same,” I reply, kissing him gently before settling deeper into my pillow.

I close my eyes, realizing all at once how happy and peaceful I feel as I drift off to sleep.

—

“I need toadmit something,” Josh says, while we hold our mugs of coffee on opposite sides of the kitchen island as I’m having,by far, the best morning-after of my new life. “If I don’t tell you now, it could be weird later.”

“I’m intrigued,” I say, because I am definitely curious where this could go. He obviously clocks my concerned expression.

“It’s nothing crazy,” he says as a big smile stretches across his face. “It’s just that I never really listened to music during your interviews. I just had those earbuds in pretending to be distracted. In reality, I was listening to everything you said.”

Now I have a beaming smile, but before I can say anything, he continues on. Heart on his sleeve, this one.

“I liked hearing you talk and learning about you like that. I would try to imagine the question that you were asked to give that answer,” he says, dropping his head, embarrassed. “I feel like a stalker telling you this.”

“Josh, the jig was mostly up by the day the AC broke and you never even tried to pretend that you were listening to music during theCosmointerview,” I begin. “And I definitely caught you listening a few other times, too.”

“Not as slick as I thought,” he says. “But at least I don’t need to pretend anymore.”

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