Midnight Heat

by Jordyn White

  He catches my eye and I almost forget to look away, but I manage it.

  He’s here with Sam. He shouldn’t see me looking at him like that.

  Chapter 11

  We’re the last ones to get free of our harnesses and end up walking toward the pick-up spot somewhat together. Connor and Fred are staying behind to pack up and say they’ll meet us there.

  The more Grayson and I walk in silence, the more uncomfortable the silence becomes. What happened in the past is looming between us again. I feel it. Or maybe it’s just me. But now that we’re really alone and can talk openly, I can’t let it go.

  “Grayson,” I say softly. “I owe you an apology.”

  We continue on for several steps.

  I glance at him. His face is unreadable. It’s almost like he’s trying to make sure I can’t decipher his expression. Maybe he is.

  “I shouldn’t have left like that. I was... I was scared but...”

  He finally looks at me, brow furrowed.

  “It’s no excuse and I know it.” I look him in the eye, willing him to really see me. I want him to know I’m sincere. God, how I regret leaving him like I did. “It was childish of me. I’m really, really sorry.”

  We come to a stop, looking at one another.

  “Scared of what?” Again that unreadable face.

  For a moment I wonder if I imagined his intent with me that night. If I made something, where there wasn’t anything. Part of me is so certain he felt things for me too, that night, but looking at him now I wonder. I do. Was it just me?

  I take a deep breath. “I’d just broken up with Brad and you came along and it was...” Amazing. Incredible. The best night of my entire life. “It was just a little too much too soon for me.”

  He’s listening, but his expression is still guarded.

  I can’t say that I blame him.

  “Look, I...” I’m stumbling all over my words. I don’t know if this is helping or making things worse or what I’m even trying to accomplish. “It wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Why are you telling me this? What do you want me to do, Chloe?”

  “Nothing. Nothing. I just wanted to... I don’t know... try to explain myself. It’s just sounding like a bunch of excuses, though, I know. I’m not trying to do that. And I’m not asking anything of you, obviously. I mean, you’re with Sam. And Sam’s great. I love her. I’m not trying to...” I sigh again. God, I just need to shut up now. “I’m sorry. That’s all. What I did was terrible and I’m truly, truly sorry if I hurt you, Grayson.”

  He gives me the same impassive look he’s been giving me the whole time. “You didn’t.”

  I feel a little knocked back on my feet.

  I’m not sure why his comment should make me feel badly. It’s not that I wanted to have hurt him. “Oh,” I say, trying to sound calm. “Well. I’m glad.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Chloe.” He starts walking again.

  I fall in alongside him, too stunned to say a word.

  We catch up to the others at the bottom of the hill. The shuttle van is just pulling up and there are a lot more people waiting to board than came with us earlier in the day. It looks like we’re picking up a few resort guests from the beach too.

  The van comes to a halt and the doors open. We load up. Bobby and Miss Cotton Candy sit near the front. I decide to keep my distance and sit in one of the benches closer to the back. Grayson comes down the aisle and slides in next to me.

  I wish he hadn’t.

  Being in his presence for so long today is starting to take its toll. In spite of everything that’s happened, even in spite of what he just said, I still want him. And not just physically, though there is that. It’s him. Unlike the Night of Grayson, we’ve barely talked and haven’t touched at all, but I’m as drawn to him now as I was that night.

  In spite of everything, that connection I felt with him is happening again. Against my will.

  Again.

  The first night I fought it because I wasn’t ready for another person in my life. I couldn’t deal with being Chloe and somebody. Not then.

  I could now though. I wouldn’t hesitate to jump on board the Grayson train, if only things were different.

  But things aren’t different.

  That train left the station the moment I walked out on him, and now he’s with Sam. He’s out of my reach in every sense of the word. So why can’t I get my heart to stop reaching for him? Why am I tormenting myself?

  And why did he sit by me? He’s not talking and doesn’t seem to want to talk. I don’t know that I can handle talking right now anyway.

  The shuttle idles in place, waiting for a large family hurrying up the hill to meet us. They’re hauling overstuffed beach bags and sun umbrellas. They climb on board, the bus swaying as they load in. The bus is nearly full though, so they spread out, squeezing in where they can. I assume the van will make the short trip to the resort and come back for the second group of zip liners that came up the mountain with us.

  The father is the last man to board. He’s a large gentleman and asks Grayson if the space next to him is taken.

  “Go ahead,” Grayson says, scooting over.

  I quickly move over myself, trying to avoid coming into full contact with Grayson’s body. I don’t need that. Grayson, too, seems careful to give the man room without touching me.

  This isn’t a small man, though, and the seats aren’t very long. There’s more shuffling and scooting and before I know it the window is pressing against me on one side and Grayson’s pressing against me on the other.

  My heart is pounding. He’s so close I can smell him. I remember that smell. His thigh is pressing hard against mine, all the way up to my hips. We’re both wearing sleeveless tops, so our bare arms are touching. God, I remember this body.

  “Sorry,” Grayson murmurs.

  The bus lurches into motion and our bodies move together.

  I’m not looking out the window. I’m looking at the seat back in front of me and barely breathing. Grayson is immobile too, but maybe he’s just pinned in. Like me. Maybe he’s not happy about being pinned in.

  But I like it.

  I like it way too much.

  To keep from putting my hand on the top of his thigh, I chant to myself: He’s here with Sam. He’s here with Sam.

  Because that’s the only thing holding me back. If it weren’t for that, I’d risk everything my heart can hold just to put my hand on his knee.

  As we head back to the resort, I realize I could move my forearm away and across my lap. That part of my arm doesn’t have to be touching him like the rest of me does. But I don’t move. My breathing is shallow and I’m tuned into every move his body makes

  Then I realize he could move his forearm too, if he wanted to. He’s not, but maybe the fact that our bodies are touching doesn’t mean the same thing to him that it does to me.

  I look down at his hand, resting on his knee. I take it all in: his tanned skin, the slightly raised veins, his short, clean nails. I remember the feel of that hand as it caressed my body: along my waist, over my breasts, up the inside of my thighs.

  I look sharply out the window. I have to stop. I have to stop thinking like this.

  But I do not move and my heart continues to pound.

  We pull up to the hotel and the bus comes to a stop.

  It’s almost over. This moment with Grayson. And I don’t want it to be.

  The doors open and people start to climb off. I’m still not moving. The man at the end of our bench heaves himself up and shuffles down the aisle.

  Grayson does not move. Not one inch.

  I slowly look at him, then he slides out and away and my body is cold where Grayson used to be.

  Isabella’s family provided a “casual dinner” in one of the resort’s banquet halls tonight. The tables were exquisitely decorated and the buffet was overflowing with food. My favorite was the bacon-wrapped dates (I went back for more twice), but the eating
seems more or less done now.

  Isabella and Shane are over at a table with three sets of grandparents. I’ve been sharing a table with Bobby, Ashley, a couple of Isabella’s young cousins from Texas (all-American girls who don’t look related to her one whit), and of course Sam and Grayson.

  This is how it’s gone down.

  Sam is the sexy, charming, endearing little flirt she’s always been. Grayson is gorgeous, gracious, and enjoying the evening, so far as I can tell. He laughs at Sam’s stories and quips—like we all do—and I look at the two of them as little as humanly possible.

  Not looking at him doesn’t stop me from entertaining my little fantasies. This evening, I’ve imagined all sorts of ways Grayson and I could end up together after all. Maybe Sam won’t care. She’s not in love with him and I did have him first.

  Not that Grayson wants me.

  He’s over there right now, talking to Bobby and laughing and looking perfectly charming. Sam’s smiling too. They both look happy enough to me. Of course, anyone looking at me might think the same thing. I’m putting up a pretty good act. I’ve even entertained the table with my Christmas tree story.

  In fact, anyone who didn’t know better would look at our little group and think there couldn’t be anything wrong with the world at all.

  That just shows what any of us knows, doesn’t it?

  Chapter 12

  After a night’s rest, I’m freshly resolved to keep it together and enjoy the day. It’s what a strong, independent woman would do. Right?

  Around eleven o’clock in the morning, the entire crew of relatives and friends who’ve come to enjoy the early celebrations for Shane and Isabella’s wedding are down at the docks. We’re all heading for the resort’s luxurious 400-foot yacht, which her parents have chartered for the entire day. We’ll be taking a leisurely tour down the coast and back, and cap off the evening with dinner on board.

  I tell you what, those people who aren’t arriving for the wedding until Saturday are missing out. The Golden Pearl is a massive vessel, gleaming in the California sun. I’ve been told it has three decks, two pools, and enough liquor to fuel a frat party for a month.

  I don’t know how much partying will be going on, what with all the elderly-type guests who’ll be aboard, but I could use a shot of something, that’s for damned sure. I’m walking along the dock, my day bag hitched over my shoulder, and Sam and Grayson are walking right in front of me. He’s carrying both their bags, but she has one arm hooked into the crook of his arm.

  Look, I’ve seen Sam like this with countless guys. I’m no more concerned that she’s getting attached to him than I was two days ago.

  It’s just that it’s, you know, Grayson. God.

  But I’m determined to keep my emotions in check. I have to. I’m the one who made this decision after all. I need to suck it up and deal with it. Plus, I’ve been looking forward to the day’s activity for months. I mean, how often does a person like me get to spend the day on board a fucking yacht? So I keep telling myself not to pay attention to Sam and Grayson and instead focus on how fun it will be to get on board and check things out.

  Grayson says something funny and Sam rewards him with one of her lighthearted laughs, the kind that makes everyone around her smile too.

  I take a deep breath. I can do this.

  There’s something like sixty of us making our way to the Golden Pearl, but Sam, Grayson, Ashley and I are near the rear. It’s too bad Bobby had to go back home last night. We tried to get him to call in sick to work this morning, but he wouldn’t do it. In some ways, he’s more responsible than I am. I totally would’ve done it.

  As the front of the massive wedding party reaches the gangway and starts to board, I glance toward the parking lot, looking for Jack’s truck.

  “Where is he?” I ask Sam.

  He’s driving in from Rosebrook this morning to join us and she’s been in regular contact with him. (Of course, she’s pretty much always in regular contact with him.) Isabella and Shane are waiting in the parking lot so they can lead him to the ship once he gets here, but I can see they’re still over there waiting.

  Sam pulls her phone out and sends him a text. “He should be here any—”

  “There he is!” I say, seeing his truck pull into the parking lot at last. Oh hell, I should’ve just waited in the parking lot with Isabella. I haven’t seen Jack since I moved to Boise and the sight of his truck has me heading back to greet him.

  Ashley, Sam, and Grayson trail after me, but as Jack pulls into a parking spot and climbs out, I pick up the pace. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed my friend until I see his face. Shane and Isabella are greeting him. Jack’s wearing that big goofy grin I love so much, and clapping Shane on the back. He gives Isabella a perfectly tame hug—just like a regular person would do—but smiles at her warmly and she smiles back up at him.

  Once Isabella and Shane got together, I noticed Jack kind of adjusted his shows of physical affection toward her, like he didn’t want to step on Shane’s turf or something. But the rest of us girls are under no such restrictions.

  As I hurry toward them, Jack sees me and hollers out enthusiastically, “Chloe! Baby!”

  I drop my bag and throw my arms around him as he picks me up into a great, big Jack hug. “Hey Jack!” I hang on tighter as he spins me in circles. “Ahhhh!” By the time he sets me down I’m laughing and hanging on to him, slightly dizzy.

  Ashley, Sam, and Grayson are just coming up to us. Grayson is watching the scene unfold with the kind of fascination most guys have when they first see Jack with his little harem.

  “Gee, did you miss me?” I tease.

  “Hell, yes.” He keeps his arm around my shoulder as he pulls Ashley into a half hug and kisses her on the cheek. Since she and Sam both live in Rosebrook, they get to see Jack all the time. “Why the fuck did you move to Boise?” he asks me.

  Grayson’s eyebrows shoot up at this piece of information. I haven’t mentioned my move to him and Sam must not have said anything either. Why would she?

  “I wanted to start my blog,” I answer evasively.

  “It’s not like you couldn’t have started a blog when you were in Swan Pointe.” Jack’s grinning, but I can hear the serious tone in his voice. Sam has mentioned he thinks I need to move back “home” where I belong.

  I glance uncomfortably at Grayson again. “I know.”

  Moving to Boise was complicated, and it wasn’t the job itself that lured me. Though I’m making a tiny bit more money, the company is massive, so I’m a member of one of their many ‘teams.’ I feel like one little cog in a long line of cogs. But still, I had reasons for accepting that job offer. Taking that kind of leap did give me the courage I needed to really work on my blog, but of course it was also a way to escape the Temptation of Grayson. I knew if I stayed in Swan Pointe, it would only be a matter of time before I showed up on his doorstep.

  Sam comes up to greet him. Still keeping one arm around me (I’m not in much of a hurry to let go of my friend either), Jack hooks his other arm around Sam’s neck and puts his forehead to hers, holding her eyes with a mock, stern look.

  “Hey Shorty,” he says, “you took the last of my Turtle brownies.”

  “My Turtle brownies.” She lightly slaps him on the stomach. “I’m the one who made them.”

  She ducks out from under Jack’s arm and returns to Grayson’s side, smiling. “Grayson, this is Jack. Jack, Grayson. He’s my date for the week.”

  “Hey man, nice to meet you.” Jack shakes hands amicably.

  “You, too,” Grayson says smiling, but he’s still trying to figure everything out. I can tell.

  “Do you have a bag?” Isabella asks.

  “Yeah, in the back.”

  He kisses the top of my head and squeezes my shoulders before finally releasing me. I’m feeling more buoyant, now that Jack’s here. Maybe today won’t be so bad after all.

  As Jack heads to the back of his truck, Sam leaves Grayson’s side
and climbs into Jack’s cab. Her head disappears as she, apparently, starts looking in his glove box.

  “What are you looking for?” Jack calls up to her.

  “My CD.”

  “It’s in the player.” He hefts his duffle bag onto his shoulder.

  “I’m going to put it in your suitcase so you don’t forget,” she says, reappearing. “You can give it to me when we get back to the hotel.”

  Grayson has a weird look on his face. I’ll admit, it kills me to think he might be jealous of Jack, but I don’t really want him to suffer needlessly. Because I’m a sucker like that.

  I step next to him, trying to ignore what being this close to his body does to me. I say quietly, “Don’t worry. Jack’s not into Sam or anything.”

  Grayson gives me a look I can’t quite read.

  “He’s a friend,” I say. “That’s it.”

  “What about... anyone else?” he asks, returning his attention to Sam, who’s scooting back out of Jack’s truck. “Is Jack into Ashley or... you?”

  His question gives me pause. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Grayson was jealous about me.

  Is he?

  No, I’m being stupid. I didn’t just close that door, I blew it into oblivion. And Grayson’s given every indication he’s not interested in opening it again. Plus there’s always the Not Insignificant Fact that he’s here with Sam.

  “No, Jack’s harmless,” I say. “He’s practically an honorary Firework Girl.”

  Jack locks up his truck and we head toward the yacht. Sam is back with Grayson and I gratefully stick close to Jack, who has his arm draped over my shoulder again. “Which one is it?” He’s scanning the ships moored at the docks.

  I point to the Golden Pearl. “That big white one at the end.”

  “That one? Damn, Isabella, you’ve been holding out on us. That’s the biggest one here!”

  “This was all my mother’s doing.” Isabella throws her hands in the air as if to say, Don’t blame me. We all know Isabella’s mother isn’t much prone to extravagances, except where her daughter is concerned. And when she found out her only child was getting married? Well, clearly she’s pulled out all the stops.