There’s something oddly comforting in that. Surprising, too.
Eventually, Graham and I part, dress ourselves, and make our way back to the living room, the atmosphere a strange mixture of awkward silence but also a comfortability that’s new. It’s gotten late, and Graham hovers by the door like he knows he should leave but doesn’t want to.
“You’ll be okay if I head home?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say with a nod and a small smile verging on laughter. “I’ll be okay.”
He nods once, awkwardly stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns toward the door. “Night, Trouble.”
I watch him leave, and as the door shuts behind him, I feel this strange sense of longing. Loneliness. And then anticipation.
And all at once, it hits me.
Oh no.
I want to see him again. Now, tomorrow, the next day.
Maybe it was the sex. Or maybe it was the accumulation of bricks being laid one by one and I just didn’t notice them until now.
I just lost my virginity to Graham Whitaker. And I think I might be falling for him too.
Chapter fifteen
Delilah
I can hear the music coming from Rick’s—the small-town honkytonk most of the Cedar Ridge locals frequent—as I walk down the sidewalk. Low, purple light spills out of the bar as the door opens and a drunken couple staggers out into the night.
I catch the door and duck inside, taking a quick glance around the room at the tables filled with groups sipping on drinks and the couples line dancing on the dancefloor.
I smooth my knee-length dress and tug my cardigan snugly around my shoulders. When Harrison had suggested I come out tonight with him and his friends, at first, I’d said no. I often do. Harrison’s a good brother and invites me places, but he and I are a different breed. Rick’s has never really been my go-to spot.
But, in Harrison fashion, he hadn’t taken no for an answer this time. “You’ve been holed up working on that book like a hermit,” he’d said. “I haven’t seen you in over a week.”
I wish Sarah were here. I’d asked her, but she had prior commitments tonight.
I scan the bar, searching for familiar faces. Harrison’s, and, obviously, Graham’s. Because if Harrison is here, Graham will be too.
I haven’t seen him since we had sex a week ago, and the thought of seeing him now sends butterflies tangling through my stomach.
He’d texted the day after asking how I was. I responded. He suggested hanging out again the next day. I made up an excuse. He tried again. I turned him down.
Because each text, each invitation, confirmed what I’d realized the moment Graham stepped out my door. I’m falling into …something, and that cannot, under any circumstances, happen.
The music is loud, and the place is crowded, and I’m just about to retreat to a corner and text Harrison, when, across the bar, I lock gazes with a set of familiar blue eyes. Painfully familiar.
I see Graham register a number of things—surprise, relief, maybe even hurt. And then, before I can even decide what my next move is, he’s making his way through the crowd toward me.
I swallow, glancing around, but there’s nowhere to run.
Graham never takes his eyes off me as he crosses the room.
“Hey,” I say softly, my voice barely carrying above the loud music, as Graham comes to a stop before me.
“Hey,” he says, his eyebrows drawing together as he looks down at me. “How are you?”
“Good,” I answer quickly, suddenly feeling shy.Soshy. Way too shy considering everything Graham and I have done together.
“Okay …” He nods, runs a hand through his hair. “It’s just that you kind of blew me off this week, and I was a bit worried about what happened. You’re okay, right?” Genuine concern fills his eyes, and suddenly I’m swarmed with guilt. Shit.
