Page 18 of Worth the Fight

Jett.

My eyes flash to Grady’s as if I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t be when there’s no reason to feel that way at all.

He lifts his eyebrows as the ring sounds again, but I make no attempt to answer it.

“Don’t you need to get that?” he asks with a casual glance to the illuminated phone screen where I’m certain Jett’s name is plastered across the front of it. He looks back to me and lifts his eyebrows. “It might be important.”

I’m not sure why I feel like I’m being challenged to see if I’ll answer or not, so I stare at Grady, my own eyebrows raised to match his as my cell rings one more time before it goes to voicemail.

“Huh,” he murmurs.

“Huh,” I reply.

“Sure is a lot of huh’ing going on around here,” Grant says from where he stands in the doorway causing me to laugh nervously.

“I’ve gotta get back to writing songs about love gone wrong,” I finally say.

“Don’t forget to call Jett back,” Grady says as he grabs my cell off the counter and holds it out to me.

A part of me doesn’t want to take it. I want him to think I’m stronger than I am and that I’m not the least bit curious why Jett is calling me. I want him to think better of me than I do myself right now.

“Yeah, sure,” I reply and grab my phone from him. “You guys go have fun pounding your wood or something.”

“Or something,” Grady murmurs as his eyes meet mine one last time before I leave the room.

My mind’s still on him.

On how that’s twice in the past couple days he’s deferred to his sexuality to avoid talking about whatever plagues him.

The bad dream and his nakedness the other night.

His scars and the flirting today.

There’s definitely something beneath the sexiness of Grady Malone.

Question is, do I want to get invested enough to find out what?

I’m reminded of the feel of his body against mine, which tells me I’m already invested. I think that happened the first morning I met him.

Grant and Grady laugh at something in the kitchen before the door slams and their voices carry outside.

And I’m left contemplating the contradiction that is Grady Malone.

CHAPTER SEVEN

DYLAN

The knock on the door comes moments before the handle pushes open, and Grady stands on the threshold staring at me.

“How’s it going?” His voice is quiet as if he’s afraid he’s intruding.

I look up from where I’m sitting on the floor, my guitar resting on my lap and several pads of paper in front of me. He looks fresh from the shower and is wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a blue Sunnyville Fire Department shirt, which makes his eyes look like they are translucent.

“It’s going.” I sigh. “Slower today than others, but I’ve had some distractions.”

Like you.

“Petunia and I were about to have a BLT, do you want one?”