Page 65 of Worth the Risk

“Wait a minute,” he says. “You mean Uptown Sidney came over and played Minecraft stuff with Luke?” The confusion on his face mirrors exactly how I felt when I saw her at the table with Luke.

“Yep.” I nod.

“Shit, that isn’t the Uptown Sidney I remember,” he says. “Doesn’t watching her do that with Luke make you want Uptown Sidney to go downtown on Grayson?”

“Very funny.”

Grady better come back soon because I need another beer STAT.

“You like her.” His simple statement is the first thing in this whole conversation that I don’t have a quick comeback to. Because I do. I don’t want to, because liking her scares the shit out of me, but fuck . . . I do. I just meet his eyes and don’t utter a single word. “So I take it you’re over the whole Sidney is like Claire thing?” he presses.

“No.” It’s the truth. But it’s a truth on shaky legs, considering that she’s up there instead of down here having a good time. Claire never would have given up her party time for the sake of everyone else. She never would have given up any part of herself, because her needs and wants came first. Always.

And Sidney is up there right now, proving that hers don’t.

“But I’m working on it.”

“Good.” He gives a measured nod as he finishes the last of his beer, and I glance again at the light on in the second story window. “She scares you because she’s different from your usual, but that also excites you. She showed up at your house, slid into a seat at your table, and entertained Luke. She reminded you of a reality you want but don’t want to admit to.”

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. He’s too damn right when all I want him to be is wrong.

“You gotta admire the woman for beating you at your own game.”

“How’s that?” I ask but already know.

“The hero bullshit in the newspaper. Getting the townspeople to back the contest so you can’t say no. Charming Luke when you thought she’d be petrified of him. From where I’m sitting, it looks like the ball’s in your court. You want her? You don’t want her? I don’t fucking care. You need to quit being a pussy and decide one way or another.” I look at Grant across from me, one arm resting across the back of the chair next to him, the other holding his beer while his eyes issue the challenge his words just gave. “If she owns your mind—and your moods—like she has, don’t you think she just might be worth the risk?”

“Mercy-Life pilot Grayson Malone is a hero.” I turn instantly at the sound of Grady’s voice, my conversation with Grant on instant hold but still owning my mind. Grady has three bottles held against his chest with one arm while holding up the flyer with his other to read. “Whether it’s risking his life to save others trapped in the High Sierras’ snow, or on a daily basis transporting trauma patients to save their lives, he knows how to put others first.”

“Stop,” I say, hating that he’s reading it loudly enough to draw looks from those around us.

That fucking bio.

The one I refused to give her because I swore I was going to bail from the contest. The bio I forgot to finish because every time I started it, I got sidetracked thinking about her.

Fuck.

“Grayson’s biggest role as a hero, though, is to his eight-year-old son, who thinks he hung not only the moon but also all the stars in the sky around it. Sexy and single, Grayson has a charming smile, a quick wit, and biceps any woman would want to be hugged by.” He gives a long, low whistle. “You write that bio yourself, Gray?”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” I growl under my breath as he takes a seat, and my cheeks burn bright from the attention.

“’Cause if you didn’t write that, then that means Sidney did, and hell, it sounds like she just might more than like you.” Grant’s shit-eating grin is in full effect to taunt me. “You need to get a better picture, because, dude, chicks love abs. They love uniforms. They eat that shit up.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?” Grady says and sets my beer in front of me with a chuckle.

“Hey, I’m the nice one,” I argue. “The one who keeps everything fair. There is no ganging up on me.”

The two of them look at each other and burst out laughing. “Like hell there isn’t. You’re fair game, little brother,” Grant says as he tilts the top of his beer toward the window above and shrugs. “Just think about what I said. It’s your call, Gray.”

Is she worth the risk? His words loop through my head on repeat.

“If the answer’s yes, then you know what to do.”

I can spot him from a mile away.

The dark jeans. The perfectly fitted shirt. The appeal that would be impossible to miss.