Page 87 of The Color of Grace

“I grew up with them,” he tried to explain. “There’re the only people I know”

“Humph,” I added to my snort.

“Look, I know I went out with Kiera for the wrong reason, liking the whole ego boost she gave me. I realized about as soon as we started dating we didn’t belong together. But I didn’t know how to shake loose of her without being mean. I never have been able to dump a girl. I should’ve thanked Stangman instead of hitting him for taking her off my hands. But when I saw him talking to you this morning, I just…I don’t know. I snapped.”

I pressed my lips together and stared through the darkness, hoping he’d continue. But he didn’t.

Time passed. Lying on my back, I stared up, unable to make out his ceiling in the darkness. Cocking my head to the side, I glanced toward his alarm clock. It wasn’t even ten yet.

“Hey, Grace.” His quiet voice rolled across the room, making me shiver with little pinpricks of excitement.

“Hmm?”

“Are you interested yet?”

Since there was no way he could see my response, I grinned. “I was always interested.”

He sounded rather smug with he retorted, “That’s what I thought.”

Rolling my eyes, I muttered, “Don’t even think about gloating to Todd or I’ll—”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he cut in, ire frosting his voice.

I settled but didn’t answer. After another moment, he said, “When we have our first kiss…”

“When?” I repeated, lifting my eyebrows.

“When,” he announced stoutly, “I think you should be the one to decide when and where because any time’s good for me. Really. I mean, even now would be perfectly fine.”

Chuckling out a silent laugh over his obvious hint, I once again rolled to my side but still couldn’t see him across the black room. “Not now.”

“Why not?” He sounded almost hurt.

“Because I’m using you for room and board right now. It’ll have to be a time when neither of us feels like we have to kiss the other as a means to pay them back for a service rendered.”

He sighed, a long, drawn-out sound. “Okay. Whatever. But just so you know, I’m ready whenever.”

My cheeks began to ache from grinning so big. “Thanks. That’s good to know.”

After another moment of silence passed, he started in again. “You know what I said when I told you I hadn’t done anything with Kiera because I didn’t want her to be my first?”

I held my breath and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, you’re not the type I want to be my first either.”

“What?” Instantly offended, I sat up to scowl across the thick expanse of black separating us.

“You’re the type I want to be my last. You know...the settle down and marry sort. If you’re my first, then I won’t get to—I don’t know—sow any wild oats or a

nything.”

It took me a moment to think up a response. In truth, most of his words made my tummy feel all fluttery with delight. He thought I was the settle-down-with type? Wow.

Still. The not-wanting-me-to-be-his-first irritated me. I didn’t like the idea of him being with another girl.

The same instant I muttered, “What does sowing one’s wild oats mean anyway?” he said. “But I guess my parents were high school sweethearts just like yours were, so maybe we’re just destined to follow our family genes and start out already settled.”

As I grinned, he backtracked, answering my question. “Oh, that phrase came from a wild weed in Europe. When they started using it, everyone pretty much meant a person was acting foolishly because it was foolish to sow—or plant or whatever—this wild weed instead of planting good grain that could grow into a marketable product. I have no idea how the sexual connotation got tacked on to it.”

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