“Would be hardnotto.”
The elevator doors opened, but I didn’t move. “Let’s hear it, then.”
He thought for a second, grimaced, then put his hand on the elevator door to stop it from closing.
That was when I realized I was smiling. Not just because I was vaguely amused by Grant’s capitulation. The prospect of wandering a parking garage on a Friday night shouldn’t have been so palatable. But the bar for the night was admittedly low after the club debacle.
We got out on the tenth level and started the process of looking for Grant’s rental car.
“This seems like a good time for question-for-a-question,” Grant said.
“Not if it’s going to distract you from finding your car.”
“It won’t.” He pressed the unlock button and looked around. “I’m pretty sure it’s my turn first.”
“Of course you are,” I said, but I waited for him to ask his question while my eyes scanned the vicinity for a maroon Corolla.
“What made you so afraid of chemistry?”
My head whipped toward him, and his gaze was waiting for mine.
It was the type of question I’d been expecting him to ask from the get-go—personal, uncomfortable.
The answer to this one required me to delve into things I didn’t want Grant to know, things I was embarrassed about. It would mean telling him about Chase and how the only man I’d ever really let in hadn’t wanted me once he’d gotten to know me.
No, thank you.
“Pass,” I said.
Grant frowned.
“My turn,” I said.
“Wait wait,” he said. “What if I make you a deal?”
“What sort of deal?” I asked skeptically.
He didn’t answer right away. In fact, he was quiet for a fewseconds, his jaw working. “If you answer my question, I’ll answer the one I passed on.”
I walked in silence.
What made you so afraid of believing a lie again?
That’d been the question he’d chosen to use his pass on, and I’d almost resigned myself to the fact that I’d never know the answer.
Now he was dangling the answer in front of me, offering me something I’d been wanting from him since day one: vulnerability.
But the price for it wasmyvulnerability.
Was it worth it?
I shot a sidelong glance at him.
He was looking for his car, giving me the chance to consider his offer in peace.
It was a very tempting offer if I was being entirely honest with myself.
In the club, I’d seen a new side of Grant—something less polished, less easygoing than what he offered every day.
