“You alright?” I ask her.
“Yeah.” She plasters on a fake smile. “That’s absolutely incredible.” Andre throws his arm around her, rubbing her bicep right over the burn scars that decorate her arm. She looks at him gratefully, patting his chest as his arm falls from her. “That’s not easy, I know.”
“You do?”
She nods. “I went through something similar. In my early twenties. Left with this souvenir...” She points to her shoulder. “As well as a new outlook on the world, and the reminder that not every pretty face has good intentions.” She points to her arm. “It’s hard to see the good after experiencingsomething so horrible, so I’m really happy you’ve let yourself be loved. It’s not easy.”
Andre hugs her close, and she smiles gratefully. “I’m really happy. Sometimes I think too happy. I—” My chest tightens. I trust them. I think so, anyway. “I care about him a lot, but I’m afraid.”
“It takes a while to rewire your brain. Hell, I’m still rewiring it. It makes a difference if you have people to help keep everything in place.” Vanessa reaches out to squeeze Andre’s hand. “I’m not saying I know exactly what you’re going through, or that I know what you need, but... talk to someone. It’s the best advice I can give you. No amount of love Grey can give you can ever replace the love you give yourself.”
It’s something I’ve thought about, but the thing is, I have so many other things to worry about that taking the time to really help myself hasn’t been on my radar. My focus is Grey’s healing and making sure this split with Steven stays permanent. I’d be stupid to think he’s going to leave me alone without a fight.
“You have people. We’re your people now.” Andre smiles, his hazel eyes bright. Sweat still beads around his hairline with his curly brown hair up in a messy bun.
Vanessa nods. “And if there’s one thing about us, we won’t let you backslide. Even if I’m far away.” She taps her phone, sliding it to me. “Put your number in.” I take it slowly, unsure, but put my new number into her phone. She smiles when I give it back then texts me. “There. Anytime you need to talk, don’t hesitate.”
“I don’t want to bother you with my shit.” She doesn’t need that burden.
“Oh no.” Andre takes a sip of his drink. “She loves being in people’s shit.” She slaps his arm. “And I’m so damn grateful.” He kisses her cheek.
“I’m feeling a little left out here.” Jessica laughs into her nearly gone martini, and both Vanessa and Andre lean in to kiss her cheek. “Best damn agent around.”
“You got that right.” She laces her manicured nails around her glass. My eyes slide to her scar, and a sad smile slips onto her lips. “I’m okay.” She smiles softly. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I’ve only known Grey a short time, but Oli loves him to death,” Andre reassures. “He’s always been there for him. They really got close after Grey’s mom died. Grey is the guy you call when you need help. He always has his friends’ and family’s back.”
Jessica nods. “Grey is the real deal. He’s incredibly kind and patient. Sometimes a little growly.” She laughs. “But he’s a good man. You’re safe with him.”
Having this confirmation means more than they could ever know.
Yet something they say sticks with me. Grey bought that house to give his family a place to live worry free. He took care of his sister when she had Lianna, stepping into the role left by her father. He helped his mother while her health declined. Despite his insane schedule, he was always there for his friends and his family.
Everything is starting to make sense. Grey keeps doing things before he’s ready. Even when his knee won’t allow, he has this drive to keep going, an impatience and frustration at not being able to do things on his own. Then there’s the things he craves in the bedroom. Being told what to do. Giving up control. Worshiping his body.
Grey craves being taken care of for a change.
And I want to be the one to care for him.
TWENTY FOUR
Grey
“A bit better than a dive, don’t ya think?” Oli leans back, looking at the setting sun morphing with pinks and oranges, his short-sleeved collared shirt unbuttoned and an easy smile on his face. I haven’t seen him this relaxed in well... I think, ever.
While he’s right, I do miss our traditions after away games. Whenever we’d win, we’d find some hidden dive bar in the middle of nowhere. Atlas, Oli, and me.
That was until Andre came into the picture. Then I got injured. “I miss the dive bars.” Atlas stares into his drink, echoing my own thoughts.
“You alright?” I ask him. My best friend has been uncharacteristically quiet.
“Fucking peachy,” he murmurs, playing with the umbrella in the drink. Some sort of pink concoction that probably has more sugar than alcohol.
“I wonder how Felix is doing with Andre.” Oli grins. “He probably has him grinding on the dance floor with a wholepitcher of margaritas drained between them.” The idea of that makes me laugh.
“What do you even know about this guy?” Atlas asks me. “You just let a stranger into your home, and now you’re all housed up with him?”
I’m not getting into Felix’s past without him being here. “I do trust him.” I lean forward, forcing Atlas’s gaze up to look at me. What is going on with him? For the last two years I could read him so well. Now it’s like I can’t recognize my friend looking back at me. I knew he’d take me retiring hard, but this... I don’t know, this seems different. “I like him, Atlas.”
