“I think everyone has days like that,” Grace said, squeezing Alma’s leg, “where it’s hard to pretend.”
“Raf doesn’t,” Alma accused. “He’s always perfectly level-headed and under control.”
He shook his head and stole another glance at Grace. Alma was right in a lot of ways, actually. He always had been able to separate business and personal, to keep things professional. But he was starting to understand what she was talking about. And he was starting to have days, like everyone else apparently, where it was hard to pretend.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
“Remember what I said, Gracie, okay?”Alma dusted blush on her cheeks in front of the little mirror in Rafael’s bathroom. Her skin was already glowing, her dark eyes lidded with shadow in a way Grace had never been able to master. Alma had managed to go to work that week, to brush her hair and put on shoes and do all of the things people were required to do, even when they were hurting so badly.
“What you said about what?” Grace asked.
“About Raf. Maybe he hasn’t done much yet, but I’m getting the feeling you’re in trouble. He watches you sometimes. You probably haven’t noticed, but I have. And I don’t think he would do it on purpose, but I don’t want him to take advantage of you right now, after everything you’ve been through. He’d probably think it was just a bit of fun, but you…”
Grace pursed her lips, debating whether she should come clean. She was dying to tell Alma the truth—to admit she couldn’t stop thinking about Rafael even if she didn’t know what that meant. She was on the cusp of understanding she was head over heels for him, too stupidly enamored to be objective or cautious, but she refused to peek behind that curtain. She couldn’t bring it to light. If this thing between them could just be casual sex and nothing more, it would really be a relief. She’d been slogging through so many difficult emotions lately, carrying all herfeelingslike a weight she couldn’t drop. For once, ignoring her emotions sounded all too appealing.
But Alma was her person, the one who saw her, who truly knew her. Actually, Alma was probably the only person left in the world who understood her, and Grace hated keeping this secret. The words clawed at her throat, desperate to crawl into the open, but Grace clamped her mouth shut. She would tell Alma soon, but she wanted her to be in a good place, happy with Obinna, secure in her own life. Grace spent too much time talking about herself lately, sucking up all of Alma’s sympathy like a vacuum and leaving nothing in its wake. This was an opportunity to stay focused on Alma’s needs. So for the time being, she just cleared her throat. “I…what?”
Alma set down the blush and picked up her comb. “You feel everything.”
Grace coughed, not wanting to accept how true this might be.
“I’m serious, Gracie, and I know you’re brilliant, and you’ve never liked him much, anyway, but you still have to be careful. He’s incredibly charming. And I guess people think he’s good looking, too.” Alma tossed her hair to the side, as if conscious that she shared these good looks as well. They had great DNA, there was no denying it. “Look, I love him, and I hope someday he’ll work out all his shit and learn to let people in, but you’re vulnerable right now. I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Alma said, turning back to the sink and swiping the comb through her curtain bangs.
Grace understood Alma’s concern about how vulnerable she was right now, but a simple seduction didn’t seem to accurately define the thing percolating between them. The way he supported her, the way he made her feel when they were together—well, Grace couldn’t imagine those were just simple methods for trying to get into a girl’s pants. But maybe she was just naïve. She didn’t know him that well. She hadn’t been around for all of the womanizing and heartbreaking Alma had supposedly witnessed. “Why do you think he would even bother with me?” she asked.
Alma shrugged, unaware of how eagerly Grace awaited her response. “Because that’s what he does. He has his fun, and then he moves on. He’s just not a relationship guy. You on the other hand… Well.” Alma took a breath, and Grace couldn’t help but notice the wet sheen of her eyes and the way her posture deflated. “I know how it feels when your heart is broken.”
Something twisted in Grace’s stomach. It might have been because of how much she hated seeing her best friend this way. It was so out of character, it was almost extraordinary. Alma gave her a sad smile, and Grace felt her own heart breaking. If Obinna didn’t fix this soon, she would be marching over to his studio apartment and having a few choice words with him.
But there was something else gnawing at the back of Grace’s mind, something about Almas’s casual assurances that Rafael was just another pretty playboy looking for a good time. She was supposed to have mentally prepared for this—that this magnetic attraction was just a bit of fun, that, yes, Raf was hot, and sex with him was worth any emotional turmoil. She was aware of the risks and the consequences, and she was supposed to have hardened herself to the fact that he could disappear from her life at any moment, but the way Alma’s words dug under her skin still made her feel queasy.
Because Alma was right. No matter how hard she tried not to, Gracedidfeel everything. And as much as she’d been wanting to ignore it, she couldn’t seem to stifle the part of her was starting to hope Raf felt it too, that this thing between them could actually be something real. Even if Alma’s assessment didn’t seem to even allow for that possibility.
“Grace?” Alma was staring at her reflection in the mirror.
“I—” Grace tried to organize her thoughts around the most important thing, around helping Alma through her own heartbreak. “Look, I just want to talk about you right now. Stop worrying about me so I can be worried about you instead. I know you’ve had to deal with me being a wreck for months, but it’s time to put all of our energy into your problems. What have you been thinking about? Have you imagined your future with Obinna?”
Alma frowned at her best friend for a moment before letting out a long sigh. “I—” Alma started. Then she pressed her lips together, and Grace thought she could see Alma trying to hold in her pain, as if it all might spill out of her mouth if she let it. “It’s all I’ve been imagining. I don’t understand how he could think I don’t feel the same way about him. Maybe I haven’t dealt in specifics about where we’ll get married or how many dogs or children we’ll have, but that doesn’t mean I’m not—” Her voice broke on the last word, and Grace wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning her chin onto Alma’s shoulder.
“Are you going to tell him that?” Grace asked.
“I tried, Gracie.” Alma fanned her face, working hard not to mess up her fresh makeup.
“I know, but emotions were running high. Maybe he wasn’t really hearing you.”
Alma nodded. Grace could tell Alma was uncomfortable, that she wasn’t used to talking about this kind of stuff. She’d never had to before, and Grace knew that if she could have swept it all under the rug and forgotten it, she would have done just that.
They had a lot in common at the moment.
“Can I ask you one other thing?” Alma said, applying lipstick to finish off the “get ready” routine Grace had watched her perfect over the years. Even heartbroken and miserable, Alma would moisturize and contour.
“Are you changing the subject?”
Alma smirked, mischief in her eyes.
Suddenly, Grace was wary. It seemed clear that she wasn’t the best person to be doling out love advice. Everything with Derek had crumbled right under her nose. “Yes?”
“I borrowed your laptop to look at something really quick—didn’t think you’d mind—but when I opened it, it was on a page about how to eat a pomegranate.”
