Page 101 of ClickBack

“About what?” Graves asks.

The driver has towels. I take two and decide I like him better.

I booked a suite where we could leave our things and rest before skating. Now I’m glad we have it for another reason. Giselle follows me through the hotel, holding the towel around herself, and waits until we reach the elevator to ask about the room.

“We’re here all day,” I tell her. “I wanted somewhere we could change.”

“You could have mentioned the changing part when you mentioned the socks.”

“That’s fair.”

Upstairs, I call down about dry clothes. Giselle takes the phone when the woman begins listing options.

“Something simple, please. And tell me what it costs before you bring it.”

I give her a robe, take my duffel into the bedroom, and change. When I come back, she is examining a top and leggings a saleswoman has brought up. She keeps those and sends the rest back. The woman leaves, and Giselle says she will pay me for what she kept.

“I got you wet.”

“The City of Atlanta got me wet. You are not the municipality.”

I laugh. “All right. We can argue about it when you’re dry.”

Her hair begins to curl as it dries. She works her fingers through the shorter pieces, inspects herself in the mirror, then decides to leave it alone. I like watching that decision. I like the clothes, too, especially when she comes close enough for me to pull her between my knees where I’m sitting on the sofa arm.

She kisses me and then steps back.

“We are still going skating.”

“We have time.”

“That is how people miss things.”

I reach for her again. She lets me hold her hand but stays where she is.

“Which rink?” she asks.

“One on the west side.”

“Does it have a name?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

“Jarrett, just tell me.”

There is nothing playful in it now, and I should hear that. Instead, I think about the calls I made, the skates in the bedroom, everything I wanted her to see together.

“Why do you need every damn detail?”

Her hand leaves mine.

“I asked where we were going.”

“I told you.”

“You told me skating. Then Atlanta. Now there’s a hotel room and somebody bringing me clothes, and I still have to drag the simplest answer out of you.” She folds the towel lying on the sofa, then unfolds it. “I didn’t know what I was agreeing to.”

“You agreed to spend the day with me.”