huge bites that make it look like he’s eating for the first time in a week.
“Good?” I ask when he’s done.
“Tell me there’s more and nobody gets hurt.”
I laugh as I push my own burger that still sits in front of me untouched toward Kai.
“You’re not hungry?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Go on. I ate at work.”
It hits me as I watch him inhale the second burger how good this moment feels. I’m a hundred percent relaxed, and my smile comes easier than it does with anybody else. I have no idea why that is, but I’ve already accepted that Kai is the only person who manages to make me feel comfortable in any situation.
I have no clue what to make of it, but maybe, in the spirit of following my new happy list, I should stop overthinking this and just be in the moment.
So I pull the bowl of blueberries toward me, lean back, and just enjoy the afternoon.
8
Kai
“Late, late, late. I’m fucking late,” I chant as I sprint through the apartment.
I’m starting to think I’m not doing this responsible grown-up thing right. I doubt anybody with a good level of maturity would forget they had a meeting about a small-business loan. I initially didn’t plan to apply for one, but on Sunday Gray sat me down after I’d recovered a bit from the hangover from hell and convinced me to at least consider it, so I scheduled a meeting.
And then I conveniently forgot said meeting, which leads me to this moment here, where I’m standing in front of Gray’s closet while he’s at work, because this is the only place in the whole apartment where there is a chance to find a pair of pants that don’t have holes in them. My own wardrobe seems to consist solely of jeans in various states of worn-out. It’s pure luck I have a best friend who is roughly the same size as me and has an affinity for suits.
Not that I plan to wear a suit. There are limits to what I’m willing to go through. But a nice pair of slacks should do the trick of convincing the people at the bank that I’m at least semi-successful at adulting.
I pull out the first pair my eyes land on and tug them on. A quick look in the mirror tells me that I look decent enough, so I dash out the door. I called a cab since I’m not dumb enough to hope the Hyundai will be merciful and cooperate with me today. I’m already cutting it close, so I have no time to deal with the crotchety nature of my car right now.
I slide into the waiting cab and give the driver the address, relaxing back into the seat once the car pulls into the traffic. I’m hoping I’ll be able to make it, but unless I want to sprint through the city myself, I can do nothing else but wait now.
My hand slides into the pocket of the Gray’s coat—also conveniently borrowed— where I stuffed my phone before I ran out the door. A piece of folded-up paper is stuck to the back of the phone. I frown as I unfold it. The paper has a lot of creases on it. Almost like somebody has scrunched it up multiple times.
I squint my eyes as I read the first line at the top of the paper.
The Happy List, it says in Gray’s neat cursive. I blink as I consider the paper in my hand.
Okay, so I have two options here. The first is obvious. I shouldn’t read this. I should put the paper back in my pocket and forget all about it. It feels like invasion of privacy to read Gray’s words, but the second option—unmanageable curiosity—drowns out every decent thought that goes through my head as I move on to the next line and greedily make my way through what Gray has written.
Have more fun.
Take a risk.
Take a road trip.
Do something crazy.
Make a complete fool of yourself.
I frown as my eyes take in Gray’s word. There are a lot of points to this list, varying from pretty ambiguous to more specific.
Change something about your appearance.
Find a hobby.
Get a massage.
I go through item after item, taking in… what? Gray’s bucket list? Plan? Secret wishes? What really makes me suck in my breath, though are the last few lines. The three final bullet points are on the other side of the paper. It almost feels as if Gray wanted