by K. Bromberg
“I know it doesn’t.”
“You tested me.”
“I was an ass.”
“You said things.”
“I was an even bigger ass.”
“Grayson.” I chuckle in protest, and his lips meet mine again and then he rests his forehead against mine.
“I said a lot of things,” he says, “most of which I’m not proud of. They’re my hang-ups, Sid. They’re things I need to fix if we’re going to make this work. They’re things I need to fix so that I can be a better man.”
It takes me a moment to swallow over the lump in my throat his words have formed. To realize what he is telling me without coming out and saying it.
“Make this work?”
He looks like a scolded little boy having to explain himself, and I hate that I want to step into him and take it all away.
“Yeah. Make this work.”
That panic I felt moments before intensifies for so many reasons . . . all of them good except for one.
“There are things I need to say, too, that haven’t been said.”
“Not right now.” A brush of lips. A soft touch of tongues. “This is my turn to apologize. This is my turn to tell you that we’re good together, Sidney. That it’s been a long time since I’ve allowed myself to feel whatever this feeling is. I know we still have to be quiet about seeing each other . . . but can we just figure out how to enjoy this right now? Can we just accept this step and take it day by day without sticking parameters on it while we feel our way through?”
My heart swells and soars, and yet I meet every word he says with a cautious trepidation. The ball is in my court when it comes to us, and I don’t know how to respond.
“Gray . . . I . . .”
“I know.” He chuckles. “It’s a lot . . . especially coming on the heels of the other day, of the shit I accused you of. But Christ, Sid, I’ve been so damn miserable.”
He reaches for the nape of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss that reflects the despair it seems we both felt being at odds with each other. While he might not think he can express himself with words, the ones he is speaking are saying a lot.
The kiss he’s giving me is saying even more.
A throat clears, and I try to jump back, but Grayson just holds me in place.
“Gray?”
“Dad.” His name is a warning. “Can’t you see I’m trying to kiss a girl here?”
Chief chuckles. “As long as I’m paying for the roof over your head, there will be no kissing any girls in this house,” he says in the most fatherly of tones, I can assume he’s perfected over the years.
We both laugh, and the groan that Grayson emits when he steps back and gives his dad the look of death has my cheeks heating.
“Good to see that you two are getting along,” Chief says with a knowing smile. “Gray, the station keeps calling your cell.” He holds it out.
“Christ,” Grayson mutters as he dials, but I can already see the transformation from the Grayson I know to Grayson in command.
“This is Malone,” he says when whoever answers picks up. “He’s what? How long will he be out for? Okay. Okay. I can cover, but I need to check about Luke.”
“It’s fine,” Chief interjects, and Grayson nods, glancing at the clock on the wall.
“I’ll be there in about fifteen, twenty at the most. Is that good?” There is another stretch of silence before he says, “Okay. Yes. Ten-four.” His laugh rings out. “I know you do.”
Grayson’s already in motion when he ends the call. “Luke?” he calls out the open door before turning back to us. “Charlie came down with the stomach flu mid-shift. They need someone to cover.”
“It’s fine,” Grayson’s dad says. “We’ll get Luke home so he sleeps in his own bed and is ready for school tomorrow.” He winks at me. “It isn’t the first time we’ve had a child.”
I smile at him and then follow after Grayson.
“Grayson.” He stops when I say his name, and turns to look at me.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I seem to be saying that an awful damn lot around you.” But his smile is there with his words, and for a split second, I feel like all is right with this world.
“You don’t need to apologize. Just be safe.”
“Always.”
I watch the chaos unfold. The frenzied hugs and kisses between Luke and Grayson that represent an obvious routine. Selfishly and ridiculously, a part of me is jealous of the attention that I’d have a share in, too, if I were part of the equation.
But I’m not.
That thought makes me just that much more insecure, since it comes on the heels of the revelation that I’ve fallen in love with Grayson Malone.
“Sidney . . . you’ll get home okay?”
“Go,” I say as he grabs his wallet and keys and shoves them into his pockets. “I’ll be fine.”
“Only if you’re sure.”
“Yes.”
“Walk me out?”
I wasn’t expecting that, but since I’m still craving that connection with him, I nod. We go out the front door, and the minute it shuts behind us, his lips meet mine in the softest of kisses. It’s slow and tender and makes every part of my body vibrate with the bittersweet knowledge that this is what I’ll be walking away from when the contest is over. A man whom I never expected but now I don’t want to figure out how to get over.
When he pulls back, it takes me a second to get my footing because he just kissed me like he already knows when I know he doesn’t.
“Sorry that I’m leaving you here with my family.” He runs a hand down my arm and links his pinky with mine.
“It’s okay. I kind of like them.”
“I’m also sorry we didn’t get to finish our conversation.” He squeezes that pinky around mine.
“We said what we needed to say,” I murmur.
“You’re amazing.” His words startle me as he presses a chaste kiss to my cheek and then heads down the pathway.
You’re amazing, too.
And it’s the first time he’s ever walked away from me that I’ve felt uncertainty. He just took a huge step in opening up to me . . . and I didn’t do so in return. I’m still hiding something from him because I’m scared to death of ruining this feeling.
He said we’re just going to go along with whatever this is. Day by day. I’m not naïve enough to think that day by day means I don’t have to tell him what’s going to happen after the winner is announced.
I know I need to. I know I should have. But this all happened so fast that now I’m the one stuck being the asshole.
When I walk back into the house, Grayson’s dad is standing there waiting for me.
“You okay?” he asks, eyes searching mine in a way that tells me he sees way more than I want him to.
“I’m fine.”
He laughs softly. “My Grayson can be a tough one to figure out,” he says without prompting. “Strong but sensitive. Stubborn but fair. He’s our peacekeeper around here.”
“I can see that.”
“He likes you, you know? He wouldn’t be pushing you away so hard if he didn’t.”
“Oh.” It’s silly that my heart swells hearing this.
Chief settles onto the arm of the couch. “Shh, don’t tell Betsy I’m sitting here.” He winks, and I shake my head. What is it with these Malone men and their charm? “She has a strict rule for the boys about butts anywhere but the cushions, but I earned it.”
“I won’t tell her. I promise.”
He looks at his thumbs, fiddling together as if he’s trying to figure out whether he should say something or not. “I know you two are pretending there’s nothing between you.” He holds up his hand when I start to talk, and out of respect, I bite my tongue. “Let me say my piece, and then, just like my sitting on this armrest here, you can pretend it never happened.”
“Okay.” I smile because I can’t help it with him.
“I get why you have to keep things on the down low for
the sake of propriety when it comes to the contest. I’m no stranger to how Grayson has conducted his affairs in the past because he wants to protect Luke. Or that’s what he says, when it’s clearly the only way he knows how to protect himself.
“Gray has always been the most loyal of my boys. He’s always trusted fiercely. And when Claire shattered that, I swore it broke something inside him. He didn’t let anyone get close to him. But since you’ve been around, I’ve seen a lot of that fight come back. That means he cares, Sidney. That means he’s scared to death. And, so help me God, that means he’s going to push you away to prove you aren’t going to stay . . . so if you aren’t going to stay, let him push you. Do him the courtesy so that he doesn’t get more attached and then become equally as crushed when you walk out of Sunnyville and never look back. If you’re going to stay, I hope like hell you’ll fight for him, because he’s worth every misspoken word and uttered curse and ounce of confusion.”
I stare at him with tears in my eyes and so much conflict in my heart that I don’t know what to say or do. How does he see that one of my feet is already out of the door when Grayson hasn’t?
Understanding my silence, he gives me a soft smile and stands. “C’mon. Enough fatherly lectures. Let’s go have a beer and some food. Poor Gray is gonna miss out.”
Me: I’m just around the corner if you want to get your stuff ready to go.
I send the text to my mom when I’m stopped at the light and then turn into my neighborhood. I look at the response when I come to a stop sign, idling for longer than I should while staring at the words.
Mom: I’m not at your house with Luke. Sidney is.
Sidney is?
My initial reaction is no. Just flat out no. This is my mom’s way of meddling. This is my mom’s way of pushing an issue I’m not ready to broach yet.
Sure, Sidney and I made up yesterday. Sure, we agreed to try to figure out what this is between us. But this? Her being with Luke where he can become more attached than he already is? Christ, this is not what I meant by taking it day by day.
It definitely isn’t something my mom should get to decide without asking me. God, I love the woman, but she’s driving me crazy.
All I’ve thought about since I left my parents’ house is Sidney. All I did during downtime was lay in those cots and stare at the ceiling while all of my crew snored around me and wonder how in the fucking world she got to me? How did she stalk those heels up to my porch, tell me I was in a contest I didn’t want to be a part of, and how did that lead to me not going ten minutes without thinking about her?
I never expected to say that shit to her. Sure, I’ve thought about it—especially when staring at the ceiling most nights after we talked, but I never thought I’d say it aloud. I thought the feeling would die. I’d expected to be too scared to voice it.
Once shit is out in the universe, you can’t take it back.
I scrub a hand over my face. I’m so fucking screwed.
And confused.
Because I said it. And I meant it.
That leaves the one thing I have left to figure out, and, of course, my mom is trying to fucking force my hand.
I may have told Sid that I wanted to try to make this work, but I have no fucking clue how to invite her into our lives further without possibly messing with Luke’s head.
Do what you’ve been doing, Gray. Little bits at a time.
It’s the logical answer, but it’s way easier said than done when it comes to a little boy desperate for a mother figure.
By the time I pull into the driveway, I’m fucking fried. The mixture of exhaustion from work, the confusion from everything with Sidney in the last couple of days, and the knowledge that I’m going to have to convince Luke that Sidney and I aren’t getting married is enough to have me on edge by the time I unlock the front door.
The family room light is on, but the house is silent. Sidney’s purse is sitting on the counter, but there is no sign of her anywhere. Back door’s locked. Bathroom is empty. Television isn’t even on. I set my stuff down and climb the stairs. When I make it to Luke’s room, I swear to fucking God that every single part of my heart shatters, and I’m not sure whether it’s a good or a bad thing.
Sidney is lying on the bed beside Luke. He’s under the covers and she’s on top of them in her shorts and tank top. A Harry Potter paperback is folded open and slightly off her lap, but he’s holding her hand, and her chin is resting on top of his head.
They look like a mother and son.
The sight knocks the wind out of me.
How odd. Until right now, I hadn’t realized how they could pass as related so easily.
I’m exhausted and starving, but I stand there in the doorway and watch the two people who are part of my life, day in and day out, as they sleep. How did this happen? How did I let this happen?
If this were a test, she just passed it with flying colors.
But it wasn’t.
Or maybe it was my mom’s way of testing me. Maybe it was her subtle way of saying “Test this woman any way you can and she’s going to come out on top each time.”
The two of them. Side by side. Asleep. At ease. Peaceful.
Things I’ve said I never wanted slowly stir to life inside me, and the effort is half-hearted to shove them back into the usual place I keep them hidden.
Tears burn in my eyes as the sight just reaffirms what I already know: Luke is missing so much by not having a mom. The quiet comfort. The woman’s touch. A different view of everything.
But seeing Sidney here, being able to study her in her sleep with my son in her arms, makes me want to hold on tighter. This woman—with the Converse and shorts and tank top—could fit in here. Does fit in here. She’d be willing to give me the things that I want.
But the woman with the red soles and designer wardrobe who first walked into my life . . . Sunnyville doesn’t have enough to keep her. At some point that editor-in-chief position of a fancy fashion magazine will call her name, and its glamour will shine brighter than the charm of this town. And just like that girl I used to listen to in the diner who couldn’t wait to leave town, she’ll leave again.
What are you doing, Gray?
The doubt creeps again. The questions rage. The need to protect flares.
And yet, here I am, staring at her. Wanting her. Needing her. Begging myself to let her in. Convincing myself that people change. That she’s changed in the months since she’s been here.
Or maybe she’s always been her, and I’ve just been looking at her through Claire-tainted lenses.
Fuck. I scrub a hand through my hair, confused as fuck and not wanting her any less, regardless of my thoughts.
Screw the contest.
Can’t I just have her as the prize?
I’m not naïve enough to think that prizes don’t come at a cost.
I step forward and slowly untangle Luke’s arms from Sidney’s. They both stir some but neither wake fully. I slip my arms beneath her knees and under her neck and pick her up.
It takes me a second to find my balance as she slips her arms around my neck, but the moment I do, she knocks me completely off kilter when she murmurs, “I love you, Grayson.”
I stand there with her cradled in my arms, my son asleep in front of us, and stagger under the weight those words hold.
It’s been almost eight years since I’ve let a woman say those words to me. Eight years since I’ve allowed myself to react to them. Eight goddamn years since I’ve wanted to say them back.
I can’t. My tongue ties and every damn thing I was just thinking comes back and hits me again. Sunnyville doesn’t have enough to keep her. So, even if I do . . . could love her, even if I do ask her to stay, that would be asking her to be someone she isn’t meant to be. That would only end with her leaving.
This is who we are. Changing for each other would mean compromising who we inherently are, when that isn’t what a relationship is about.
So, I do the only thing I can .
. . I carry Sidney into my room and lay her on my bed. I don’t know how much time passes as I try to calm what those words did to my insides, but I stand there and memorize everything about her as she sleeps.
The rise of her chest. The line of her nose. The curve of her hips. The shape of her lips. The smell of her perfume.
I wonder a thousand what-ifs before I shove them down, lock them away.
It doesn’t stop me from wanting to show her how I feel about her. It doesn’t stop me from testing the same three words out on my own lips as I stand in the darkness of my own room. It doesn’t stop me from leaning over and kissing her with every ounce of embattled emotion that I feel.
When I do, when that soft sigh falls from her lips in response, when her lips react in turn before she fully wakes up, I know I’m a goner. I know she’s the one I’ve waited for, even though I know she was already gone before she stepped foot back in Sunnyville.
There are no words between us. There is no rush as we touch and taste and enjoy. Hands running gently over skin. Sighs filling the room. Unspoken emotions filling our hearts. There is nothing but us as I slip into her and show her how I feel in a way I can’t express with words.
As I show her I love her in the only way I’m capable of letting her know.
“Do you have an innie?”
I’m startled awake by Luke’s voice, by the curious face that’s angled to the side, staring at me, and by the grin he’s fighting a losing battle with.
In the split second it takes me to remember everything that happened last night, it’s already too late to escape this situation unscathed. My hands tighten the comforter around me as his eyes glance at my bare shoulders. I cringe as I imagine what he’s thinking.
Stay cool. Stay calm.
“Shh, your dad’s asleep.” I look next to me, where Grayson’s forearm is over his eyes and his breathing is still even.
Deep breath. I’m just going to have to talk my way around this one.