"Why are you pulling over?" I asked.
I was experiencing a wave of pure panic, like we couldn’t possibly get to the hotel fast enough.
In fact, I thought maybe Gray could just go ahead and drop me off at the airport. I had already decided I couldn't have him, and I felt as though I had to flee from him at the earliest opportunity so that I could begin nursing my broken heart.
"Why are you pulling over?" I asked again.
I was short of breath. I actually feared my lungs weren't functioning properly—like things were going medically wrong with me. I tried to roll down his window, but it was my first time trying to do that in his truck, and I couldn’t figure out the right button.
Gray had come to a stop by this point, so I just opened the door and stepped out of the truck. I didn't think I had any other choice. I honestly thought I needed fresh air or I would pass out right there in the seat.
He had parked in front of a laundromat. I could see inside. The washers and dryers were shades of turquoise. It was clean in there and had a vintage look that seemed inviting yet sterile. I went inside and crossed the room where I sat in one of the chairs near the back. I plopped into a seat, staring into the only dryer that had clothes in it.
It was full of white stuff, like towels and T-shirts and socks. Gray came inside and sat next to me, staring straight ahead at the dryer like I was doing. We sat there for half-a-minute or so.
"Do you need to do some laundry, Jane?" he asked.
"No. Sorry. I had a thing where I felt anxious for a second," I said. "I thought I was gonna pass out."
I still thought I was gonna pass out, actually. My heart was still beating out of control, and my chest was still tight, but I had endured a few such nervous attacks before, and I knew there was ultimately nothing wrong with me. I breathed steady, regular breaths and begged myself to keep it together. I stared at the tumbling clothes thinking, you can make it, you can make it.
Gray reached out to hold my hand, and I slipped mine out from under his. I shook my head, glancing at him regretfully.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
He was so handsome, sincere, and sweet, and I squinted, trying not to cry.
"I don't know. I guess I just realized how crazy this all was. I think I would hate myself in the long run if I caused you to miss out on stuff like that."
"Stuff like what?" he asked.
"Like harpists."
Gray pulled back and regarded me with an expression that was both confused and agitated. "Is that how it goes, Jane? Some woman brings her granddaughter or whatever, to my house and that's it, everything's over with us?"
I gave him a sad smile. "It's more complicated than that, and you know it."
"How? How is it more complicated?"
"I don't know, I guess it's just that seeing her made me realize you can have something different than me."
"That's terrible, Jane. I can't believe you even say something like that about yourself. That's not the Jane I know. That's not the person who gets up on stage and commands an audience. That's not the Jane who had those directors and my brother drooling over you—who has me drooling over you."
Gray shifted in his chair so that he could stare at me more fully.
"Where's that Jane?" he asked. "And how did dinner with the Fishers steal her from me?"
"I'm still Jane, I just… I live in Memphis, Gray. I have a life there. Responsibilities. You don't need that right now. You don't need to go from all that junk in Kuwait to a new set of responsibilities. It's not fair to you."
I paused and sighed, gathering my thoughts.
"Let's face it, Gray, it's not a friendship that you and I have going here. We couldn't even let each other give someone else a little peck on the lips for a television sitcom."
He shook his head impassively. "No way I was gonna watch you do that with my brother. No way."
"See? We're not staying friends. We keep doing stuff like getting jealous and holding hands and kissing. We stink at being friends."
"Then, good. Let's not be friends, Jane. I don't see the problem."
I shook my head, staring straight into the dryer. Medically I was feeling better—not quite as deathly nauseated or tight chested, but I still felt overwhelmed. I couldn't believe we were sitting in the middle of a laundromat. I began to look around, feeling a little bit like I was waking up. I took a deep breath.
"I love my life," I said. "I don't want you to think I'm ashamed of myself or anything, because ultimately, I am happy with my life. I'm happy with who I am. It's just that I'm afraid if I—"
"Nothing," he said. "You should be afraid of nothing. So, maybe you and your little girl have to travel to Chicago a little bit while you do a TV show. Maybe you have to live here a little. Earlier, it seemed like you were okay with it."
"I was but that's before I realized what a hindrance all my plans would be to you."
"Don't say that," he said.
"I'd be mad at myself, Gray. I would never be able to quit thinking that you're doing it because you think you're obligated to Seth."
He stared at me, scanning my face as if trying to gauge his own feelings and figure out a way to put them into words.
"You know what Jane? That's just wrong, and you know it. I am not hanging out with you for Seth's sake. My feelings for you have nothing to do with Seth Shelby. And if you think I'm gonna let you just get mad and leave me over some girl Madeline Fletcher brought over to my Mom's house, then you've got another thing coming."
His eyes roamed to my mouth, and my stomach flipped, taking my breath away. I thought he might kiss me right then, so I glanced around to see if anyone was watching. There was no one else around, only the tumbling laundry.
I glanced again at Gray, feeling hope rise in my chest by how determined he seemed to not let me go. He reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, looking at me intently.
"I'm really dreading putting you on a plane tomorrow," he said. "Please let's not waste the time between now and then."
"I'm dreading it too," I said.
He smiled. "I know. You're dreading it so much you're trying to run off and never see me again."
"I was doing it for your own good."
"My good?" He said, putting his hand to his chest. "You're running off and getting all mad at me for my sake?"
I nodded. "Yes, I was," I said. "Seriously, it was completely for your sake. I didn't want you to miss out on going to the opera, or sports events, or the symphony."
"What does that even mean?"
"It means my life is birthday parties and hamburger macaroni. I want you to see the symphony and do normal stuff that single people do."
"And you think if I date you instead of that girl I won't be able to do things like that?"
I shrugged with a shy nod.
"You're wrong, and you know you are," he said, trying to call my bluff. "You're just trying to run away because you're scared of getting hurt."
"In my mind, I thought it was for your own good, though. I didn't mean to run away just to make you chase after me. I'm not just trying to create drama—I'm not that type of girl. I really thought you needed me to do it."
He stared at me. "I know what type of girl you are, Jane. That's exactly why I'm not letting you go."
"What if they rewrite the show for us?" I asked.
"Then that'll be wonderful," he said. "We'll act in the show, and play ourselves, and it won't matter how many times we have to kiss on camera."
"What about Shelby?"
"We'll make it work. We could get you a place over here. Maybe we could get something close to my mom so she could help. I haven't really thought about it. But if it works out, and you want to take the job, then you just find a way to make it happen. People move all the time."
"And what happens if they won't do the rewrites?" I asked.
Gray shook his head and tossed a hand into the air. "Then, I do something besides star in a television show, which would be great, honestly. I have other things I'd like to do."
"Could you do them in Memphis?" I asked.
He glanced around with a little smirk as if he was relieved by my question and took it as a challenge. "If that's what it takes to get what I want."
"What do you want?" I asked.
"You know what I want," he said, shifting in his seat and regarding me seriously. He leaned toward me, and his proximity left me breathless. I bit my lip to keep from smiling. Gray put his cheek next to mine, letting our faces gently brush as he breathed in through his nose, smelling me. He rubbed my cheek again with the side of his face before he pulled back to stare down at me.
"What were we saying?" I asked, blinking at him.
"That the direction of my brother's sitcom was of no consequence to us other than the way it affects our geographic location."
I thought for a second about what that meant, and then smiled at him before glancing around at the room. "At this very second, we're geographically pretty ideal," I said.
"What? You like watching clothes spin around?"
"No. I mean, it's a nice enough place and everything, but I just meant that we were both in Illinois right now."
"Yep. Only a few inches away from each other," he said, glancing down at the space between us.
I gazed at his mouth, tracing the curved lines of it and staring at the way his stubble grew above his lip. I reached out and touched the side of his face, letting my thumb barely brush the edge of his mouth.
"That's my girl," he said with an almost imperceptible grin. I placed my other hand on the other side of his face just to see what he'd say.
"Yep," he said. "That's more like it."
I grinned at him, and he returned it as I let my hands fall.
"Do you have some clothes to wash, or are you ready to head back to the house?"
"I can't go back there after I already told your parents I was leaving."
"It's either that, or we pay for a hotel. I don't see a point when there's a perfectly empty bedroom at the house."
"How do you somehow manage to make things seems so reasonable and talk me into them, and then I find myself doing outlandish things like trying out for TV shows and going back to your parents' house after I've already told them 'goodbye'?"
"Going back to my parents' house is not outlandish," he said. "You know they're going to love you, right?"
"They already met me," I said.
"No they didn't, not really. Mrs. Fisher was in the way. They didn't know you were my Jane."
My heart leapt, and I reached over to grab his hand. "Thank you for not letting me leave you, Gray. I'm so thankful you wouldn't let me go."