Page 88 of Handle with Care
“I miss you so much. You have no idea. You’re very missable, by the way. In case you didn’t know. Like you’ve made a space inside me where you belong. Now you’re gone, and I’m totally lost. You can tell me to fuck off, if you want, for good,” I say tentatively. “And I’ll fuck off if you want. But I have a few things to say first. If you’ll listen.”
“Like what?” Will asks after a long moment. But I catch the curiosity in his eyes, no matter what sort of front he’s got going on right now.
“Like you’re incredible. Also, you’re a dick for disappearing.”
Will laughs, like the Will I was wanting to see. He nods. The one I miss so much it hurts all the way down to the core of me.
“Good, glad I have your attention.”
He gives me a stern look then, which is weirdly thrilling. I lean slightly closer to him.
“You’re trying to take the low road now,” he says.
“I never claimed the high road, babe. Listen up. I’ve been calling and texting you all week, and I was starting to think you were stolen too, right along with the exhibit. Your efforts to ghost me have officially failed. Because you’re way more to me than work. Or a quick fling. I mean, we tried hating each other. Ignoring each other. Even fucking each other. All to get this out of our systems, and face it, it didn’t take. It only made me want you more. And—well, I also found your sketches of us and our summer together. And—they’re perfect,” I blurt.
He flushes, holding my gaze.
“And the problem is you mean a lot to me. Like, a fucking lot. You’re all I think about. All I really want. More than a lost exhibit. Or an internship. Even ten internships.”
“Dylan—” he protests, shifting slightly on his bench in the shade.
“The problem is… well, the problem is I’ve fallen in love with you, Will,” I say softly.
He stares at me, wide-eyed.
I get up, crossing the lawn to kneel before him. I sit back on my heels, hands on my thighs. I couldn’t tear my gaze away even if I wanted to, which I definitely don’t want.
“No no, get up,” he protests, looking away, then back at me.
“Listen, I promise I’m not proposing, but—tell me right now you don’t feel this too, between us, and I’ll fucking go away and leave you alone forever.”
Will trembles, his gaze fixed on me like we’re the only two people left in the world. Distantly, the leaves of the giant tree rustle with the breeze. The freshly cut lawn tickles my nose. The afternoon’s not quite warm, even for late August, with the threat of a summer storm lurking on the horizon with the muggy afternoon. He reaches out and traces my cheek with the lightest touch.
I stare him down, his eyes silvery in this light. “Will. I love you. And you’re just going to have to fucking deal with it.”
Will makes a sound between a laugh and a sob. He’s still white-knuckling the blanket with his other hand, and he blinks away tears. “Please.” He coughs. “Get up, you daft man. The grass is wet.”
I get up and slide in beside him, into the warm crook of his arm as he wraps the blanket around me. And then, after searching my eyes, he kisses me like I’ve been craving so badly. We’re caught up in each other, his hand on my jaw. I kiss him reverently, to prove how much he means to me. How much I want him.
When we finally stop kissing, my lips burning with want for him, we lean our foreheads against each other.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” I murmur.
“I wanted to kiss you,” Will protests, shutting his eyes tight.
“Not that. I was really hoping you’d kiss me too.” I chuckle softly, sitting up, reaching out to massage his temples. His eyes remain closed as he leans into my fingers. Enough to tell me he’s still not feeling a hundred percent.
“Then?”
I swallow hard. “Resigning your position. Nobody only blamed you, Will. It was both of our faults at work. It was amistake. An accident. We didn’t lose anything on purpose. And you didn’t need to take the fall.”
At last, he opens his eyes again to look at me, looking strained. “Dylan. Maybe that’s true. Maybe it’s not. I… I did it to protect you.”
“You what?”
“To protect you,” he repeats. “Because you know what you’re doing. And they needed someone to blame. And it definitely shouldn’t be you. You need the internship more than me, like you said from the very beginning. You have the museum degree and experience. I didn’t deserve the internship. And it’s got to be something I fucked up along the way.”
“Hey.” I still hold his face between my hands. He looks weary now. “You deserve this chance as much as I do, okay? We make a great team together. Maybe I’m biased.”
