Chapter 23

Aisha returned to her room after lunch, while Conall and I ventured into town for the first activity he had planned for us. I was a bit intimidated when he showed me the list of everything he had in store for us.

"It's like speed dating but for figuring out what you like!" Conall had said when I'd asked him about it. He wasn't exaggerating either.

There had to be at least a dozen different activities planned over the next two days. Baking class, poetry,theater show, an intro to programming class, pottery, woodworking. He said the classes were about an hour long, so we'd have time for a few each night, but the schedule was still intense.

He put in so much effort to try to find something I'd want to pursue. My family loved me, but even they never tried this hard to help me discover myself.

"Thank you," I said when we checked in for the bakery class. I helped him put on and tie his apron. "I'm really grateful for all the effort you put in, but what if I'm not interested in any of it?"

Nobody liked having their efforts wasted. Conall's smile was still brilliant as he replied, "That's okay! Then we'll try something else. There's no rush. We have plenty of time."

The way he said we, like it was given that he would come along with me on my journey. Like we were a team. I thought I was fine being alone, but it could never compare to knowing I had Conall on my side. Always.

As I'd expected, I was a disaster at baking. The instructor kept insisting baking was a science, and we just had to make sure our measurements were exact, but despite double checking the culinary scale twice, my dough came out too liquidy. And when we added more flour to try to save it, it turned into the consistency of lumpy clay instead.

Conall had pottery on the schedule, but I wasn't supposed to be making clay in the baking class!

The couple at the table beside ours was in a similar situation. The woman looked at her mixture with all hope gone. We met eyes when she looked up and started chatting about how it was her and her boyfriend's one-year anniversary. Neither of them was good in the kitchen, so they thought the baking class would be a fun experience.

The four of us spent the rest of the class joking with each other and betting on who would fail harder at the class. Nobody was surprised when both our batches of cookies came out harder than rocks.

The theater show was entertaining, although I had more fun whispering with Conall about the actors than the actual show itself. And for the programming class? Both our heads were spinning minutes into the first presentation slide. We weren't the only ones either, with a group of us banding together halfway through the lesson to help each other out and make the time more enjoyable than it would have been.

Pottery class went much the same, a bit disastrous, but I had a lot of fun doing it with Conall. We were both a mess by the end of the class with how much clay water we'd splashed on ourselves, trying to turn the block of clay into a vase.

Conall's at least resembled the shape of a vase, while mine looked like an abstract art piece. When I figured I did the best I could on the vase, I watched Conall work for a bit. He was focused on his piece, his tongue cutely sticking out a bit as he was deep in concentration.

I didn't want to bother him, so I stood and browsed the shelf of pottery that was displayed in the back. I didn't have a knack for creating art, but it didn't mean I couldn't admire it. In fact, after trying my hand at it and learning how hard it actually was, my appreciation rose.

A gray-haired older gentleman leaning on a cane came up to me while I was examining an elegant-looking cup with hands on both sides. He explained how creativity led to taking ideas and creating more beautiful innovations like these that could potentially help a wide range of people. This two-handed cup, for example, was for people who had trouble gripping things with their hands but didn't want dishes that were too tacky-looking.

That led up to having a conversation about functionality versus style. He proceeded to tell me how much people sacrificed style for functionality, but he thought they weren't mutually exclusive, and his goal was to create more pieces that helped a wider range of people and looked good while doing it.

It was inspiring how much he believed in his cause and the hard work he was willing to put in to see his dream realized. It didn't matter how old one was, their passion kept them young.

I could understand now why Conall was so insisting on helping me find something I enjoyed. And I wondered when I was this elderly man's age, what would keep me young?

"I don't think working with my hands is for me," I said self-deprecatingly as we left the class.

"Maybe we should skip the woodworking class. I don't want anything happening to your hands. I kinda like them," he said, grinning as he examined the small bump that was forming on the back of my hand when my hand went ricocheting off the spinning wheel and bumped into the table behind me.

"Sorry, I ruined your careful plans," I said, twisting my hand in his and squeezing it.

"Hey, nothing's ruined. I think we're making great progress!" Conall chirped, ever the optimistic.

"In ruling out that my hands are basically useless?"

"Hey! They're not useless. I remember having a lot of fun with them the other night." He grinned.

I pulled in close and leaned down to his ear. "I can show you what else I can do with my hands," I whispered, low and deep. I felt a shiver pass through him, but he shook his head and broke free from my hold.

"None of that until we get home tonight," he said, looking so stern.

"Oh? So you're saying I'm guaranteed some ass tonight, even if I've wasted both our time today?"

He crossed his arms. "Like I said, we made huge progress today! And it looked like you had a lot of fun chatting with people we met."

I shrugged. People made sense, because all anybody really wanted was someone to take an interest in what they were saying. Which was easy enough since people were interesting to me.

"What I'm trying to say is you attract people, Tidun."

My eyes widened. I hoped he didn't think I was trying to flirt with them, because I wasn't. "I just had a superficial curiosity about them and nothing more."

Conall burst out laughing, leaving me utterly confused about the situation. "I'm not bringing this up because I'm jealous," he said.

"Oh." I didn't know if I should be embarrassed that I'd just assumed he was or in awe once again. Some people loved seeing their lovers jealous over them, but I found it so fucking sexy that he was confident in himself and us.

"The reason I brought it up is I saw how much fun you were having talking to them, and how good you are at making them confide in you. Maybe your passion is doing something dealing with people?"

I took hold of his hand and contemplated his words. It was true that I liked being around people, but was there something meaningful I could do that let me just talk all day? It wasn't like I wanted to be a sales rep. People in customer service had the virtue of patience that I didn't possess.

Conall watched me with a knowing smile. "Looks like my job is done here," he said with a proud expression.

I chuckled and pulled him close. "You should be rewarded for a job well done then, don't you think?"

"Mmhmm, I like the sound of that. And what reward do you plan on giving me?"

"Well, you said you liked my hands..." I said and pressed a kiss by his ear. His turtleneck was blocking access to his beautiful neck, and I had to control my urge to ruin his shirt by ripping it. "I can show you all the different things I can do with my hands or...you could have a piece of my ass." I took his hands and brought them to my butt cheeks.

His eyes widened. "You'd be into that? Bottoming? Wait, have you ever bottomed before?"

"Sure. I don't really care which position I'm in as long as it's with you," I said with a shrug. "And no, it'll be my first time."

I wasn't against bottoming, but I never really had anyone I wanted to try it with. And with Conall, I wanted to try everything.

"And you'd let me, a virgin, be the first to top you?" Conall asked in disbelief.

"Yes," I replied honestly and pulled him to me. "I know you'll be careful with me. You'd never hurt me. I trust you."

I trusted Conall with all my heart, and unlike finding my passion or whatever, this was easy.