Chapter 8: New Territory

Grace awoke to the strange sound of another person breathing next to her. She had not prepared for this, and it wasn't part of her routine, so for a little while, panic flitted in her chest. Max's hands in her hair, his hushed assurances, and the way he had held her while they conversed till almost three in the morning were all recalled by her.

It had seemed more intimate than anything Grace had felt in years, even though they had only kissed and held each other.

With one arm thrown across her waist and his face relaxed in the dawn light coming through the curtains, Max was still asleep. 

Grace spent a moment to look at him…….the dark lashes on his cheeks, the tiny stubble along his jawline, and the way his hair poured across his forehead.

This is true, she thought. This is really happening.

Max's eyes flashed open, as if he noticed her attention. His smile was drowsy and relaxing.

"Morning," he murmured, his tone hoarse from sleep.

"Morning." Grace suddenly felt ashamed, uncertain of how to handle morning-after conversations following the previous night's occurrences.

"Any regrets?" Max asked softly, repeating her question from yesterday.

"No," Grace said, surprised by how swiftly and clearly the response came. "You?"

"Not a single one." Max's hand discovered hers beneath the sheets. "Though I should probably call Chicago before I lose my nerve."

"You don't have to……."

"I want to." He planted a kiss on her temple. "Besides, I've got something much greater waiting for me here."

Before Grace could react, her phone rang. Elena's name appeared on the screen, and Grace groaned.

groaned.

"I should probably get that," she admitted apologetically. "Elena has a sixth sense about these things."

"Go ahead," Max replied, resting back against the pillows. "I'll start coffee."

Grace answered the fourth ring. "This better be important, Elena."

"Oh my God, you slept with him!" Elena's tone was delighted. "I hear it in your voice. "You definitely slept with the sexy chef!"

"We didn't sleep together," Grace answered, still smiling. "Not exactly."

But something happened. "Spill. Now."

Grace found herself telling Elena about everything…….Emma's homecoming, Max's confession, and her own leap of faith. Elena listened with increasing delight.

"I'm so proud of you," Elena added after Grace finished. "You took a risk." You struggled to get what you wanted. "How does it feel?"

what you wanted. "How does it feel?"

"Terrifying," Grace acknowledged. "But it's good. "Very good."

"And he's really turning down Chicago?"

"He says he is." "He's calling them this morning."

"Grace, that is tremendous. Men do not give down dream jobs for ladies they do not care about."

The thought made Grace's chest tighten with both excitement and anxiety. Max was making a big sacrifice, therefore this interaction between them had actual weight and repercussions.

"I have to go," Grace said. "He's making coffee, and I should probably... figure out how to be a girlfriend."

"You'll be great," Elena replied enthusiastically. Just be yourself. So far, everything appears to be working.

When Grace stepped out of her room, she noticed Max in the kitchen, phone placed to his ear. His expression was harsh yet calm.

"I understand," he said. "Yes, I am certain. "Thank you for this opportunity."

He hung up and turned to see Grace observing him.

"It's done," he said simply. "I turned it down."

The finality of it struck her. Max had recently closed a door on his future, and she was the reason. The weight of that obligation was overwhelming.

"How do you feel?" she inquired.

Max murmured, "Relieved," as she moved to pour her coffee. "Scared. Excited." He handed her the drink, and their fingers brushed. "Like I just made the best decision of my life."

"Even if it means staying in New York? Working in a restaurant?"

"The restaurant was never an issue, Grace. I adore what I do there. The Chicago job was only a method to avoid the possibility of true happiness. "From you.

Her heart skipped a beat after hearing those words. "So what happens now?"

Max considered this. "Well, first, I need to speak to my landlord about breaking the contract early. Then maybe we could work things out with the sleeping arrangements, as your bed is hardly big enough for one person."

Grace felt heat rising in her cheeks. "We're actually doing this. Living together. "As a couple."

"Does that scare you?"

"Absolutely." Grace took a sip of coffee to get courage. "But I'm done letting fear make my decisions."

Max smiled brilliantly. "In that case, what are your thoughts on rearranging furniture this weekend? Because I have some ideas for maximizing space in the living room."

"Ideas that involve moving my perfectly organized bookshelf?"

"Ideas that involve creating a space that's ours instead of just yours with my stuff thrown in."

The word "ours" sparked a thrill in her. Grace had spent so long protecting her space, freedom, and meticulously planned existence. The prospect of actually sharing it was both exciting and terrifying.

"Okay," she replied. "But I get veto power over any changes to the kitchen organization."

"Deal. However, I reserve the right to argue if you try to reorganize my spice cabinet."

"Your spice rack is chaos."

"My spice rack is art," Max remarked, drawing her closer. "And you're going to learn to appreciate it."

Grace allowed herself to be taken into his arms, astonished at how natural it seemed. "What else am I going to learn to appreciate?"

"Morning kisses," Max demonstrated. "Late-night cooking sessions." I always know where my books are even if I leave them all over the place."

"I already appreciate those things," Grace confessed against his lips.

"Good," Max muttered. "Because there's a lot more to where  that came from."

As he kissed her once more, Grace reflected on how her life began to change in just a few weeks. She'd gone from tough schedules and meticulous plans to kissing her roommate in her kitchen on a Wednesday morning while putting the furniture into place and future mornings like this one.

Six weeks ago, the concept would have caused her to panic. It felt like coming home.

"I should get ready for work," she remarked unwillingly as they parted ways.

"Me, too. "But, Grace?"

"Yeah?"

"We should definitely talk about practical things tonight, when we're both at home. How we want things to function, what we require from each other, boundaries, and expectations..."

Trust Max to approach their new connection with the same thoughtfulness he has shown in everything else. It was one of the things she was coming to adore about him.

"That sounds very mature and responsible," she replied.

"Are you surprised?"

"Just a little." I'm used to being the person who wants to plan everything."

Max's serious expression made Grace's chest tighten. "Grace, this matters to me. It matters to me. I want to do this right." "Me too." "Good." Max pressed one more kiss to her forehead. 

"Now go prepare before I choose to make you late for work." As Grace walked toward her room, she caught sight of herself in the hallway mirror. Her hair was mussed, her eyes were shining, and she was smiling in a way she hadn't in years.