Page 39 of Grant’s Flame

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, and it would save you a lot of embarrassment to not shoot your mouth off for once,” Grant fired back.

I just stared at him. I went to answer…and then shut my mouth again. No. Fuck that! If he wanted to throw down with me over Sebastian Shark, then the gloves would come off.

“Pardon me?” I gave my head a little shake as if clearing a mental cloud. “What did you just say to me?”

“I don’t think you really need me to repeat myself, right? Especially because I’m not looking to argue with you, Rio.”

“Well, I think you might be when you tell me to ‘shut my mouth for once in my life.’” I gestured wildly with air quotes around the rude words he’d just let fly.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Grant. I heard you. I’m standing right here. I mean, I get that everyone treats me like I’m invisible, but I’m literally in the same room with you. I also have excellent hearing.”

“Yes. I know where you were standing. It’s rare a moment that passes when I’m not aware of your exact location, Blaze.”

“Then why do you deny what you said?” I fired back.

“Because you are mistaken. I said—”

“Cut the bullshit, Twombley. Own up to your words. Just like the other day in there.” I stabbed my index finger toward our cabin’s bathroom. Yeah, it was high time we dealt with the big masturbating elephant in the room, too. “I heard you, by the way.” I raised one eyebrow expectantly in his direction. “Do you want to explain that bullshit?”

“Bullshit?” he repeated as he prowled closer to where I stood. I wouldn’t let him intimidate me though and refused to move as he neared.

“You think that was bullshit?” The dangerous look in his cobalt eyes matched the marked drop of his volume. “News flash, baby. For most people, feelings and emotions aren’t considered bullshit.”

He was toe-to-toe with me by now, and I had to tilt my head back to meet his threatening stare. I told myself the hasty steps I retreated were to ease the angle of my posture, but my thundering heart told a different story. When my back met the bulkhead, I knew I was truly trapped. Pinned by him—emotionally as well as physically.

After quickly closing the space I had just created between us, Grant flattened his palms on the wall on either side of my head.

“Look at me,” he issued, but I couldn’t—I wouldn’t—comply. But that didn’t matter. The bastard simply slipped his thumbs under my jaw and maneuvered my head upward. His glare was waiting—and intense.

We stayed like that, locking eyes for long, excruciating moments, before he began tracing paths back and forth along my jaw. I couldn’t begin to fathom why, though the action seemed to be somehow soothing him. As if he were using my skin, and all the delicious ways he could control its reactions, to calm his temper.

“Grant—”

“No,” he seethed. “You’re going to hear me out. Whether you like what I have to say or not. You need to know this. That all of this—you, me, us, this isn’t some fucking game for me. None of this is. I don’t know when you’re going to realize that, girl.”

“Grant—”

“I’m not done. I’m far from done, damn it. My fucking heart is on the chopping block here, and you’re the one holding the cleaver. High above your head like some fire-starting Lizzie Borden.”

A profound silence, so deafening it made my ears ring, fell over our small space. We stared hard at each other, reeling in the aftermath of the seismic shift that had just occurred—that he had dealt to the tectonic plates of our relationship.

I was too stunned to move. To speak. I knew Grant was too, but I was past caring. He kept his gaze fixed on me, careful and remorseful and replete with worry. Or maybe something beyond that—but the part about me not caring was still there.

No. That wasn’t true. If I didn’t care, this wouldn’t hurt so much. The man had just issued a critical hit to my trust, our friendship—and fuck it—my heart.

“That was beyond low, Grant Twombley,” I barely whispered. Just behind my eyes, I could feel the awful sting of impending tears. In my throat, a lump was forming so fast and so large, it nearly gagged me.

“Blaze—”

It was just a gasp, but it told me a lot. The bastard seemed to realize he had royally fucked up, and for his sake, I prayed he grasped another recognition. The one about it being high time for him to shut the fuck up.

A garbled choke escaped him, and he took a tentative step back, finally releasing me. I couldn’t get far enough away from him in the confines of our shared space. He went to speak, but I stopped him with a stiff, straight arm.

“Rio, please. I’m so sorry.” The unmistakable sheen of tears glistened in his eyes, matching the ones now rolling down my cheeks in hot, burning streaks.

With a shake of my head, I warned him from coming any closer. I didn’t want to be a fragile girl. I didn’t want to be vulnerable or needy. I definitely didn’t want to feel like with one more thoughtless remark, intentional or not, I would be reeling in a way so pitiful, I would physically falter.