His gaze shifts to mine on a dime. “Do you want Rush?”
Here it is, the moment of reckoning. I suppose a half-truth couldn’t hurt all that much. “What’s not to want?” I pull the laptop over and start typing anything that comes to mind because I never was good at looking someone in the eye and telling them a lie.
Grant moans as he pulls my laptop out of range from my jittery fingers. “I guess you know what you’re looking for.”
My eyes skirt the outline of his form. Grant is built like a wall, like a human jungle gym the little girl in me would love to climb. Who am I kidding? It’s the big girl in me that wants to run wild on that piece of flesh over steel.
“I guess I do.” Our eyes connect, snapping together like Lego pieces. There’s something final and perfectly delicious in the way we click. I have never felt a living heat with anyone else like I’m feeling right now—an eternal flame oblivious to the elements around us. With Grant in the room, everyone else ceases to exist.
A smile tugs on the corners of his lips, but he’s too stubborn to give it.
“So tell me about Marcy.” My own smile melts right off at the mention of his ex. “Any chance of a reconciliation? Little sisters love to have their big brother’s plus one hanging around. Just think of all the fun we can have. We could go shopping. Heck, I’d even let her braid my hair.” There is something so deeply sorrowful in Grant’s eyes. It was the first thing I noticed when I sat down at the table last week. I saw it at the mixer, too. Not even his smile can hide it. That girl must have tap danced all over his heart in nine inch spiked heels.
“It’s Darcy.” He shakes his head and breaks the trance we had fallen into. His gaze reverts back to the screen with that perennial frown. “We’re over. We’re still good friends, though. She’s coming down in a few weeks. You’ll get to meet her then. She’s up in Virginia at a private university.”
“Nice.” My adrenaline soars at the current friendly state of their relations, and then a crippling thought comes to mind. “But everyone knows absence makes the heart grow fonder.” My lips quiver with admission. I’m not sure why I’ve decided to play devil’s advocate with their impending reunion. Hell, I don’t know why I’m trying to find a reason for him to run to her right this minute. It’s evident Daisy has her work cut out with me, but then again, I am employing her reverse psychology techniques on a nuclear level. I swear, if they end up walking down the aisle by summer, I’m going to strangle Daisy by the strap of her Kate Spade handbag. Aubree blinks through my mind, and I’m quick to wipe all thoughts of torturing Daisy out of my head. No thanks to my murderous sister, all homicidal fantasies have been swept off the table, even though everyone understands that a normal person is allotted a good homicidal fantasy once in a while. Leave it to Aubree to take it to the extreme. My mood plummets. I’d do anything to reverse what my sister did.
“Um”—I clear my throat in an effort to stave off tears—“if you felt something once, you can feel it again.” There. Maybe something good will come of my newfound obsession with Grant after all—his reconciliation with the love of his life, Marcy, Darcy, whatever the hell her name is.
Grant tips his head back, his eyes set to the ceiling as if giving this some serious consideration. Great. My work here is done. I can start amassing cats by the dozens now and muttering to myself while wearing nothing but a bathrobe. I’m sure a future that involves a multitude of felines and a deficiency of males is one that Owen would approve of.
“I don’t think so.” Grant pulls the laptop close, swallowing hard as if gulping down some serious emotions.
“Oh, I get it. The wound is too raw. Not that I would know. I haven’t had my heart sliced and diced just yet. I’m sort of saving that good time for Rush.” I knock my shoulder into his in an attempt to add some levity to the situation.
“He’ll slice and dice and put it in a blender for you.” That mile-wide grin of his floats back to his lips. “One heartbreak smoothie coming right up.” His mood shifts as those dark amber eyes latch back on to mine. “On second thought, don’t get your heart broken—hurts too much.”
“Wow, she really did a number on you.”
“She didn’t. My sister did.”
His sister. I take a quick breath. The one who died! I feel like a big pile of steaming shit for even taking him down that broken hearted road. Of course, he’s still hurting. Pain like that never really leaves you.
A heavy breath escapes me as I reach over and take up his fingers. The heat from his hand singes me right down to the bone.
“I know all about broken hearts, Grant.” A mournful smile bounces on my lips as I interlace our fingers. “My sister broke mine, too.” A single tear rolls down my cheek as we lose ourselves in the moment, just the two of us, our gazes magnetized and unbreakable in our shared pain.
Grant reaches up and catches my tear with his thumb, pressing it to my lips, and I kiss it. My entire body quivers with relief at that one single touch.
“Make a wish.”
I give a slow nod. It already came true.
“You’re a good big brother.”
He winces. “I may not have had the power to protect my sister from a broken heart, but I can protect you.” His brows arch in amusement, and a cool breeze washes over the two of us as a small crowd whisks by. “I’d stay away from Rush if I were you.” Grant gets right to the task of helping me with my paper, scooting his chair so close our shoulders become one.
Stay away from Rush? I’ll protect you? Sounds like Daisy knows a thing or two after all. Yes, score one for Daisy.
The memory of his thumb pressed to my lips comes back in a heated flurry.
Score one for me, too.
Grant
Weeks trickleby like water with Ava and me biking through all of the trails that line the outskirts of the school. Apparently, ditching her actual big brother is a sport Ava indulges in quite often. Thursday after practice, both Lawson and Rush demand we hit the Black Bear for dinner.
“I’m not sure.” I knew I should have driven—or walked for that matter. Briggs isn’t that far from the frat house. I’m not a fan of the Black Bear. I’ve been a time or two—ran into Jet and that was pretty cool, but honestly, it still twists my guts to head in there. I haven’t seen Bryson yet. He happens to own the bar along with his siblings. I’ve heard his wife, Baya, is a part-time waitress there.
