“Yeah.” She throws a smile at me before returning her eyes to the road.

“What do you want?” I want to ask her that question all the time. And not just about art.

What do you want from your life? What do you want to be happy? What do you want in a man?

But I’m also trying not to scare her away.

“What should I want, Ben? Draw me what you think I’d want.” Holly delivers these instructions as she parallel parks on a street I’m not familiar with.

She wants me to choose?

The request suddenly sits heavy in my mind. Like, if I figure out the right thing, I’ll win a magnificent prize. But, if I get it wrong, I’ll lose out on the chance of a lifetime.

When she glances over at me and chuckles, I’m pretty sure it’s because the worry sits clear on my face. “Calm down, Ben! First off, you don’t have to do it right now. Just whenever you feel inspired. And I’m not gonna judge you. I want a Ben Gerhard original.”

Before I formulate a response, she’s out of that car, sprinting through the rain. I pop my door open and follow after her to a small storefront while trying to think of what in the world I should draw for this girl.

Walking inside, I’m surrounded by the scent of warm, fresh bread. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. I miss carbs, but my strict diet doesn’t allow me to indulge often.

“Mmhmm. This is what I want heaven to smell like.” Holly’s voice is dreamy.

When I glance her way, I find her eyes are closed, and she’s standing still in the middle of the shop. Some patrons are moving toward the exit, and she’s right in their path. I put my hands on her shoulders and gently guide her to the side. She starts at my touch, but when she realizes the cause for her redirection, I’m rewarded with a grin.

“Sorry. Just got lost in the moment there.”

“No problem.”

Being in this shop seems to have relieved the last of Holly’s jitteriness from earlier. She grabs my hand and pulls me to the counter. After placing her order for an almond croissant and a medium jasmine green tea with a dab of honey, she reaches for her wallet.

“Slow down there.” I stop her searching hand before she can pull out money. “I asked where you wanted to go because I wanted to treat you.”

“I can pay for my own food, Ben.”

She’s ready to argue. But so am I.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that Holly Foster can and does pay for all of her own food. But you did me a huge favor today. So, now, I’m treating you.”

“What are you talking about? You’re the one who did me a favor by coming to pick me up.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have needed picking up if you weren’t donating your kidney to me.”