by Kaylee Ryan
“I need time, Grady. I have to process this.”
“Okay,” I concede. I knew it would take time, that I was going to have to work for it, work for her. “I have one more thing before I go. My residency starts next Monday. I had to accept a program back in April. Collins, my residency is at Riley.”
She laughs through her tears. “Of course, it is. Just go, Grady.”
“I hate leaving you when you’re upset like this.”
“Right,” she scoffs. “This is nothing compared to three years ago. You should have stuck around for that.”
I feel her words like a dagger to my heart. “Call me… when you’re ready to talk again, call me.”
“Just go,” she says, and I can see that she is battling another round of tears.
“Collins—” I reach for her, but she stands.
“Please, ju-just g-go.”
Standing, I lean in close and place a kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry for how I ended that night, but I’m not sorry it happened. Up until the time I walked away, that was the greatest night of my life.” With that, I turn on my heel and force myself to leave her, the girl I love in tears, her heart shattered to pieces because of me and my stupid decisions. I’ll never stop trying to gain her trust. I don’t care how long it takes or what other relationships it costs me. I know I should have said that three years ago, but I can’t change the past. I can only change the future, one I hope to share with her.
I flinch at the sound of the door closing, and a sob breaks from my chest. I want to hate him. I do. I want to tell him to go to hell, but my heart has other plans. My heart yearns to reach out and hold onto him, have him hold me close like he did that night. One night, a few hours of time, and yet he’s branded me. How is that even possible? Locking the door, I grab my phone, a bottle of water, and disappear into my room. I just need a minute to regroup. I don’t want Tabby to come home and see me. I would have to explain the tears, explain the pain, and I’m not ready for that. I don’t know that I ever will be. So, instead, I burrow under the covers and let the tears fall. I replay that night in my head, just like I have thousands of times before.
I bury my hands in his hair as he plays with my breasts. When he sucks a nipple into his mouth, gently nipping it with his teeth, I tug hard. “You okay?” he whispers into the night.
“Yes.” One-word answers are about all I can muster.
“All you have to do is say stop and I will.”
“Please don’t stop,” I beg. I don’t know where this new brazen Collins is coming from, but he doesn’t stop, so I’m thankful she decided to make herself known. He takes his time moving his mouth from one breast to the other, his thumb and forefinger play with the other, and it’s sensation overload. Heat pools between my legs, and I would be embarrassed if I couldn’t feel his hard length against my belly. He wants this, wants me as much as I want him. I’ve thought of this moment a hundred times, maybe more. Dreamed is more like it, and I never thought in a million years that dream would come true.
He kisses his way up my neck and nips at my ear. His large hands press on my bare back, bringing me even closer than before. When his lips find mine, I open for him. I want to taste him again and again. I never want this night to end. My hands roam his chest, taking in every line, every curve of his chiseled body. When I reach the waistband of his jeans, I pass over the button to cup him in my hands.
“Jesus,” he mutters. “Collins, baby, you can’t do that. I’ll lose it,” he whispers against my lips.
“What? This?” I ask, taking him in my hand once more.
“That.” He kisses me.
I feel wanton and powerful at his admission. Going for brave, I pop the button on his jeans and lower the zipper. Grady sucks in a deep breath, burying his face in my neck, but he doesn’t stop me. With shaking hands, I reach under the band of his briefs and stroke his hard length.
“Fuck,” he murmurs against my neck. He lifts his head and even in the dark, I know he’s looking at me. “Collins, what do you want?”
“You.”
“I need you to be sure.”
“Never been more certain in my life.”
“Have you ever?” he asks, working the button on my jeans.
“N-no,” I say, equal amounts of nervous and excited.
He stops. “Collins,” he whispers.
“No, don’t stop. Please, this is what I want. I want it to be you.”
He takes my mouth in a slow kiss as he slides the zipper down on my jeans. I suck in a breath when his hand slides under the band of my lace panties.
My phone vibrating in my hand wakes me from my dream, my memories of that night. My eyes are swollen, and I’m sure I look like hell from the tears I’ve shed. Cracking them open, I look at the screen and see his name—a new text message. I don’t want to know what he has to say, I don’t, but that doesn’t stop me from swiping the screen to read the message.
Grady: Just checking on you. You okay?
Grady: Need me to come over?
I hesitate before replying. It’s not something I’ve done since he’s been back in town, but I fear that he’ll show up at my door. Tabby should be home soon, if she’s not already, and I don’t need that.
Me: No need for you to come over.
I don’t tell him I’m okay, because honestly, I’m not sure I am. My heart aches, my head hurts from the tears, and I honestly just don’t know. I don’t know if I’m okay or if I ever will be. What I felt for him runs deep, and the scars are there, still red, swollen, and fresh from the pain. I can only hope one day it will get better.
My phone vibrates with another message.
Grady: I’m sorry for everything, Collins.
This time I don’t reply. I can’t say it’s okay because it’s not. I can’t say that I accept his apology because, well, I’m not sure that I do. I feel like everything is hanging in the balance, and I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Climbing out of bed, I gather my laundry and carry it to the laundry closet just off the kitchen. That was the best perk to this place when Tabby and I were looking, no laundromat. I stuff the washer, add soap and fabric softener, and shut the lid. Glancing at the clock, it’s just after six and my stomach growls, reminding me it’s time to eat. I settle for a slice of left-over cold pizza and make my way to the couch. That’s how Tabby finds me not ten minutes later.
“Hey,” she says, plopping down on the opposite end of the couch. “How was your day?”
“Meh, I slept off and on. My allergies are acting up,” I lie. I feel like shit for doing it, but I can’t tell her he’s been relentless with his efforts. Not yet. “I decided to drag my lazy ass out of bed and get started on laundry.”
“Yeah, I need to do that, too. But I’m not doing it tonight. I’m exhausted. Aunt Tabby was a jungle gym all afternoon. I swear I don’t know how Roger and Beth do it. Those boys are balls of energy.”
“Yeah, but twins, they can keep each other occupied.”
“I guess, but not when I’m around. Those little buggers were all over me.” She laughs.
“You love it.”
“I do.” She nods. “Anyway, I’m taking a shower and calling it a night.”
“I’m not far behind you. I need to put my clothes in the dryer and then I’m turning in, too. It’s been an… off day.”
“We all have those.” She smiles, stands, and heads to her room.
When the washer beeps, telling me that my load is done, I swap it out, turn out the lights, and head to my room. How pathetic am I? In bed, a little after seven on a Sunday night. I’m just about asleep when my phone pings with a message. I have a pretty good idea who it is before I even look at the screen.
Grady: Good news. Your landlord called me back. I’m your new neighbor.
Grady: I can move in right away, so I’m going to get that taken care of before I start residency next week. Thanks for the number. I’m exhausted, so I’m heading to bed early.
G
rady: Goodnight, beautiful.
Immediately I think about something that he said earlier, That picture got me through the last three years, and I fight the urge to ask him if he’s looking at it now. Instead, I place my phone back on the nightstand and close my eyes. It’s hours before sleep finally claims me.
Turns out that “right away” was Wednesday. I spent all day Monday and Tuesday getting things I would need. My first purchase was a bed, a king-size bed. The landlord gave me a tour on Monday, and I was glad to see that the bedroom was big enough. Living in a tiny, cramped apartment the last three years, I’m ready to stretch out. All through college, I slept on a twin. I’m a tall guy and need more space. So, I took a big chunk of the money I was gifted for graduating medical school and bought me a big-ass king-size bed. My mom insisted on buying me sheets and bedding as a housewarming. I’m a guy living alone. I don’t need anything fancy. Not to mention, there will be no one to impress with my fancy new bedroom digs. The only girl I want refuses to speak to me.
Still.
I’ve walked by her apartment door more times than I can count, making extra trips, with smaller loads just for the chance I might get a glimpse of her. My efforts were fruitless as I’ve not laid eyes on her since Sunday, the day hers were filled with tears when she told me to leave.
I’ve texted her multiple times, and even called a few, but still no reply. I know I laid a lot on her and that she needs time, and I’ll give her as much time as she needs. In the meantime, I just wish she would talk to me. After three years of wishing she was close, she’s now literally right next door, and I still feel as though we are states away.
“Thanks again,” I say, shutting the door behind the delivery guys. They just delivered and set up my new bed. It looks massive being the only piece of furniture in the room. I’m taking a spare dresser my parents have at their place. Mom tried to get me to bring all of my furniture from my old room, the one that remains the same as the day I left for college right after high school. I declined; you never know when you might need to move home again. Besides, I know Mom, and she likes that it’s still the same, makes her feel like I’m still living at home, which is all the more reason I needed to get out on my own. I’m twenty-six years old and starting my residency. I’m a damn doctor. I need my own place. I’ll have weird, crazy hours and shifts over the next three years, so having my own place is just another perk for my parents really. I won’t have to disturb them at all hours of the night.
Grabbing my keys, I head out to get some groceries. Now that my bed is here, I can officially move in, but a man needs food. As soon as I step out of my door, hers opens. My eyes stay glued to the door, hope blossoming until I see it’s her roommate, Tabby.
“Grady?” she asks confused.
“Hey, Tabby.” I wave at her.
“What are you? Wait, are you our new neighbor?”
Glad to see Collins has been talking about me. I’d like to think I’m wearing her down. “Yeah, they just delivered my bed, so technically this is my first day living here,” I explain for no reason at all, except that maybe Collins will hear her talking and come out to see what’s going on.
A man can dream.
“Does Collins know?”
Shit. I don’t want to throw her under the bus, but… “Yeah,” I confess.
She grins. “Interesting. Well, welcome to the hood.” She laughs. “Have a good day, Grady. I’m on my lunch break and need to get back to work.”
“You, too.” I watch her until she disappears down the hall. My feet carry me to their door, and before I can think about it, I’m knocking. I shove my hands in my pockets and wait. When the door opens, Collins’s eyes go wide. “Hey,” I murmur. She’s gorgeous; it’s been too long since I’ve laid eyes on her in the flesh.
“Grady,” her sweet voice greets me. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re neighbors,” I remind her.
“I get that. But what are you doing here, knocking on my door?”
Oh, that? “Well, I’m headed to the store. I thought I would see if you needed anything.” It’s not a complete lie. I know that telling her I just needed to set my eyes on her even for a brief minute would be too much.
Her shoulders relax. “I’m good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome to come with,” I offer before I can think better of it.
“N-no, that’s okay. I’ve got some things to do around here. Congrats on the new place,” she says and starts to close the door. “Bye, Grady,” she says softly.
Before she can get it closed, I place my hand on the door, keeping it open. In one step, I’m standing right in front of her, right on the threshold. “Can we have dinner tonight?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Collins.” After reaching up, I press my palm against her cheek. “I need you to know I’m not going to back off. You can push as much as you want, and I’m going to push right back.” Knowing it’s a risk, I do it anyway. Leaning in, I place a light kiss on the corner of her mouth. “I’m going to fight for you.” I whisper the words, but the meaning is there, screaming loud and clear.
Pulling back, I drop my hand. “Please, have dinner with me?”
“I cook dinner on Thursday nights,” she tells me. “It’s Tabby’s late night, and I cook.”
“Tabby can come, too. I’ll make dinner.” It’s not ideal, but I’ll take what I can get.
“Grady,” she sighs.
“Collins,” I mimic her.
“I’ll make dinner,” she concedes. “Tabby will be home at seven.”
“What can I bring?”
“I’m making chicken enchiladas.”
I nod. “I’ll figure it out.” Reaching out, I grab her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll see you soon, babe.” With that, I turn and walk away. As soon as I’m facing away from her, I let the grin break free. I’m wearing her down.
When I make it to the grocery store, I’m still smiling, and I’ve gotten more than a few strange looks, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m having dinner with Collins. Sure, Tabby will be there, but I’ll be in her space. Just… time with her. It’s a step in the right direction. Making my way to the bakery, I grab some vanilla cupcakes with white whipped icing, my girl’s favorite. I can use all the help I can get.
Once the door is closed, I come to my senses. What in the hell was I thinking inviting him to dinner? I’m losing my damn mind. I blame the smile. I know better. My mind is still jumbled from our talk on Sunday. He’s texted me every day, texts that still go unanswered. It’s not that I don’t want to reply, as much as I don’t know how. How do I forgive and forget? How do I let him back into my life and not ache to be more? Who am I kidding? I’m already aching for more. All week I’ve thought about the fact that he’s now my neighbor. Why did I not tell him the place was rented or that the landlord is a dick? Anything but willingly give him the number to call.
Looking at my watch, I see it’s just after one in the afternoon. I have six hours until I see him again.
For dinner.
Here.
In my apartment.
Shit!
Grabbing my phone, I text Tabby.
Me: So we’re having company tonight.
Tabby: Oh, yeah? Is he hot?
Me: ?
Tabby: When were you going to tell me we have a new neighbor?
Me: We have a new neighbor.
Tabby: I know. I met him on my way back to work.
Tabby works just about ten minutes from here versus my twenty-minute drive to the local children’s hospital. She often comes home on her lunch hour. I can rush home if I need to and then have to rush back and hope to not meet any traffic. It’s not worth the effort in my opinion.
Me: Well… he’s coming to dinner.
Tabby: About that. Lucy called in sick. I’m working until ten until her replacement shows.
Tabby: I was getting ready to text you.
Me: Tabby!
Me: One�
�that’s a long ass day.
Me: Two—you can’t abandon me!
Tabby: Sorry.
Me: I’ll just cancel.
Tabby: You CANNOT cancel on him.
Me: Of course, I can.
Tabby: Chicken.
Me: You don’t understand.
As soon as I type the words and hit Send, I feel guilt wash over me. She doesn’t understand because I’ve kept to myself since he’s been back in town. She’s the only one who knows about our history, yet I shut her out, too. I just need some time to process this. I need to figure out where we go from here.
Tabby: I have an idea.
Shit!
Me: It’s complicated.
Tabby: It always is. Don’t cancel and I want details when I get home.
Me: Fine.
Tabby: Yay!
She knew exactly what she was doing. Being called a chicken goes deep. I would beg to hang out with Caleb and his friends. They would call me a chicken, daring me to do the things they did. Ride wheelies on my bike, jump off the swinging rope into Grandpa’s pond. Come to think of it, Grady’s the only one who I don’t remember ever goading me. At least, not that I remember.
I now have just under five hours until he’s knocking on my door for chicken enchiladas. Jumping off the couch, I rush to my room, strip down, slide into my robe, and head to the shower. Yeah, I’ve already showered today, but I skipped shaving my legs. Not that I think anything is going to happen tonight, but I need the confidence boost that freshly shaved legs give. That’s my story, and I‘m sticking to it.
