by Jenn Windrow
He closed the small space between us, rage turning his face into something ugly and twisted. I didn’t back down. “You said you would never love him, that it was just sex.”
I hoped Lauren could heal his heart after I stomped on it for good.
“Hearts are fickle.” I shrugged.
“Grayson,” I called, knowing by the way my heart fluttered and my body pulsed he waited around the corner.
He stepped out from behind the brick building. Hands in the pockets of his jeans, his face expressionless, except for his eyes. They searched mine for an answer to an unspoken question. A question we didn’t have time to figure out the answer to.
I reached my hand out and waited for the comfort and strength I needed from his touch. He placed his hand in mine and a familiar heat rose through me. I used it to illustrate my final point. Pulling Grayson close, I wrapped my arms around his waist, and kissed him deep.
When we separated, I willed myself to turn around and face Len. “My heart does not belong to you, and yours doesn’t belong to me.” I stepped closer to Grayson, leaned against his chest, needing him at my back to get through the rest of my speech. “Grayson is my perfect match. It’s time for you to find yours.”
None of my words were lies.
I pointed down the sidewalk, in the direction that Lauren had gone. “You need to follow Lauren, chase her down, and see if she’ll give you another chance to get to know her.”
Len unleashed his full arsenal of anger, face redder than a ripe strawberry. “I’m not interested in anyone else. And after you, I’m not interested in another relationship.” Len pushed me away from Grayson and punched him in the chin. Grayson toppled but didn’t fall. Len turned and walked away without a word.
Grayson rubbed at the red spot on his chin, his eyes narrowed. “Whatever makes you feel better, Len.” He spoke low so only I heard.
I reached up and touched his hand. “I’m sorry. You keep taking hits for me.”
He offered a half-grin. “Nothing a little ice won’t fix.” He fingered the edge of my blouse. “You’re covered in wine and look like you’re on the verge of breaking down. Let’s get you home before that happens.”
Grayson left me standing on the sidewalk, cold, miserable, and scared about Len’s future. Lauren’s future. My future. He came back with my purse and led me to my car, helping me into the passenger seat. He slipped behind the wheel, but before he cranked the engine he turned and looked at me. “I know kissing me in front of Len broke your heart, but it was for the best. I think he finally sees that there is no hope for you two.” He turned the key. “We’ll get it all figured out tomorrow.”
Tomorrow seemed so far off. A long space of time before we had another chance to connect Len and Lauren. Time to reflect, think, worry, and blame myself for this mess. One more night for Len to sink further into the deep, dark hole that slowly swallowed him. One more night of the total annihilation of his soul.
Grayson navigated Doris through the twists and turns to my house as I sat in the passenger seat, smelling of wine and looking like the blood from my ruptured heart had seeped through.
We pulled into the driveway and Grayson parked the car under the trees, then cut the engine. He walked around and opened the door for me. I sat there. Defeated. Grayson held out his hand. I took it. Lust trickled through our touch, not a sharp spike, but a slow burn.
We held hands to the front door, not saying a word. When we stepped into the house, he let my hand fall free and turned to face me. “When you told Len you loved me, did you mean it?” His eyes eager for my answer.
But it wasn’t an answer I could give him. Not tonight. Not until I knew Len’s soul was safe.
I shrugged and avoided his eyes, afraid he would find out the truth before I did. “I can’t give you the answer you want right now. Hell, I’m not even sure of the answer myself.” I looked up. “All I want is a hot shower, time alone to think, and my bed.”
Grayson frowned, leaned forward, and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “You’ll have to face your feelings eventually, but I’ll give you tonight.” He closed the door behind him without looking back.
I shut myself inside my house with a slew of emotions, a pile of thoughts, and a buttload of regrets. But Grayson gave me the space and time I needed to figure things out, and for that I was grateful.
I just hoped I figured everything out before we all ended up face first in the crapper.
Seventeen
Who’s Going to Clean This Crap Up?
I dragged my depressed butt up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to strip out of my clothes, wash away the horrible evening, so I could cuddle up in bed and forget tonight ever happened. At the tenth step, I stopped at my great-great-great grandmother’s portrait. My hands skimmed over her delicately painted face, a face that held many similarities to my own. Small, upturned nose. Deep-green eyes. Full upper lip. Unfortunately, that’s where the similarities ended.
She had married for love and stayed for the long haul. No chasing. No making the wrong choices. No picking the wrong man. She had been promised to another, but instead she followed her heart. To avoid spending her days in a loveless marriage, she fled. Ran away. Took her future into her own hands, and the gamble had paid off.
I tried to be like my great-great-great-grandmother, to take my future into my own hands. I ran from guys like Brad. Like Grayson. Like every man who had treated me like shit, tore my heart into a trillion pieces.
Instead, I ran to Len, a man I thought would make me happy.
A man who lived by plans and structure and organization. The complete opposite of the free-spirited, haphazard, land-of-chaos I thrived in. I had forced myself to be who Len wanted, to please him, to be someone who didn’t fit inside my own body. To be Len’s ideal woman. I made myself believe we were perfect for one another. But the truth was, we weren’t. Not even close. All to shield myself from more pain.
Another gamble that hadn’t paid off.
Even worse, I’d been so intent on not falling for Grayson I ignored all the signs that we were suited for each other. I pretended my attraction for Grayson only existed because Cupid forced us together, but in reality it had nothing to do with Cupid or his arrow. I was attracted to Grayson. Undeniably so. “Why can’t love be easy?” I muttered to the generations of people who had come before me, wishing they had an answer to that age-old question.
I should have let go the first time I had the opportunity to hand Len’s heart over to Lauren. A woman who wouldn’t have to change to make him happy. Instead I held on because I was afraid to let go. I screwed up all our lives. Once again, I had been selfish to protect what I thought I wanted. To protect myself. To hell with anyone else involved.
“I screwed up royally.” I wiped a smudge off the picture’s glass and sighed.
Letting Len go, knowing we were over for good, for real, hollowed my chest, hurt my heart, tore apart my soul, but not for the reasons that it should. Letting Len go meant admitting Cupid knew me better than I knew myself. It meant admitting I may actually have deeper feelings for Grayson than I wanted to acknowledge. It meant admitting in the end, I was going to end up with the type of man I fought to free myself from.
The thought of being with Grayson, allowing myself to fall in love with him, scared me. But the thought of being without him, missing from my life—that scared me even more.
I climbed the rest of the stairs and stepped into the laundry room, where I stripped off the ruined blouse and tossed it in the garbage. It didn’t bother me to get rid of it. The old-fashioned silk had been another item bought to please Len. Something I knew he would approve of. I had a closet full of clothes I bought to please Len. A house full of color-coordinated and color-coded organized baskets to please Len. A life so changed I didn’t recognize who I was anymore.
All to please Len.
After slamming the lid on the garbage can I went into my bathroom. I turned on the light and ran my hand over the smooth granite coun
ter. The empty counter. No face creams or hairbrushes or open tubes of toothpaste. Nothing except for Len’s clock. His way of making sure I made it to places on time. Before Len, I didn’t have a schedule to manage, or places to rush off too. Life had been carefree and easy.
The illuminated numbers reminded me how much I missed that life. I grabbed the cord on the clock and yanked. The lights dimmed, faded, and the numbers and blinking dots vanished.
It felt so damn good. I stared at my cat-who-ate-the-peacock smile and knew what I had to do next.
The medicine cabinet was next. Stripped the shelves of my face creams, vitamins, anything that had been tucked away out of sight, and dumped them all over my bathroom counter. I pulled the towel off the towel bar and draped it across the shower door. I messed up the bathroom, destroyed the organization and created chaos. Claiming the bathroom as mine once again.
I took back a part of myself that was stolen from me.
The bathroom forgotten, I went into my closet and stared at the rows of color-coordinated clothes hanging neatly on the racks, baskets of scarves and purses arranged neatly on the shelves, and shoes organized by height, color, and style. Everything meticulous.
And completely wrong.
The baskets were first as I pulled them all from the shelves, creating pile after pile of brightly colored accessories on the floor. I yanked clothes from the hangers, tossed them on the floor, piled them on the dresser, and created a system I could live with. I shuffled shoes on the shelves, messed with Len’s system.
And it felt fucking fantastic.
Filled with an energy I hadn’t felt in two years and clad in nothing but a bra and panties, I ran downstairs, not caring if the neighbors saw my glorious nakedness, and trashed the place. Tore through the house like a tornado through a trailer park. Bins that had taken Len weeks to perfect were dumped in the middle of the room. I found all my hidden art supplies and covered the coffee table with them, hiding remote controls and magazines under the sketchbooks and charcoals.
This wasn’t Len’s house, it was mine, but I had been living like a houseguest for the past two years. No more. I loved my mess, my unorganized way of living. I let him take that away from me, let him transform me into a Donna Reed wannabe.
I tipped, emptied, spilled every bin, every shelf, every bit of Len left in my home. And then I laughed. I laughed at how good it felt to be free. To be me. To be happy.
Comfortably plopped down in the middle of the mess of my own making, I enjoyed the feeling of calm that enveloped me. And for the first time, I let myself think of Grayson as something more than a major inconvenience. Allowed myself to imagine a future with him. Faced the scary feelings I felt for him. Love. Plain and simple. I loved Grayson.
Loved the man who wasn’t put off by my off-color vocabulary. Who kept up with my verbal barbs. Who stuck with me no matter how many times I mucked things up. Who had never once expected me to be anyone other than Noel.
But I’d been such a bitch. Downright nasty.
I grimaced and my insides shriveled at the thought of the past month of crap I put him through. Yet, he’d stuck by my side, taking all the abuse I hurled his way. Grayson wasn’t Brad. He wouldn’t hurt me, leave me standing at the altar, or cheat on me. Grayson was Grayson, handsome, sweet, fun, and perfect for me.
I needed to tell him how I felt about him, no more hiding behind excuses.
I waded through the clutter on the floor in search of my purse and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed Grayson’s number, my heart slowing a bit with each and every ring, stopping when he didn’t answer and flipping to voice mail. What I needed to say couldn’t be said over a machine. Grayson deserved to hear these words face to face.
Let’s hope I wasn’t too late.
I ran up the stairs, two at a time and threw on the first pair of paint-splattered sweats I found in the pile. I grabbed my keys, locked the door behind me, and hopped into Doris. I knew his address, but this was the first time I had an inclination to visit. My heart pumped at the thought of finally admitting what I had denied for so long.
Cupid was right. Grayson and I were the perfect match. Soul mates.
Eighteen
Ass Out of You and Me
My heart raced like Doris’ engine. Fast, little beats that counted down the moments until I did the one thing I swore I would never do…express something other than extreme dislike for my soul mate.
I pushed Doris to move faster, afraid I would lose my nerve at every red light. Grayson lived in a nice part of town, all high-rise buildings, historic shops, and upscale condominiums that overlooked the vast, beautiful ocean. His condo was a modern marvel made out of glass and metal. Large round windows sparkled with interior lights, offering a peek-a-boo glimpse of tastefully decorated interiors.
I parallel parked Doris, slightly nervous that the person in front of me would clip her bumper, but more nervous about the step I was about to take.
The walk up to Grayson’s door rattled my nerves more than the keys rattling in my purse. I was taking a huge risk. Grayson was Grayson. He was everything I shielded myself against. Everything I feared would ruin me. Everything I ever wanted in a man.
And despite all the reasons I could come up with to turn around and leave my foolish errand, I could think of a thousand more, which kept my feet rooted to the stoop.
Fear had driven me for the past two years, but I wouldn’t let it take Grayson away from me. I pulled open the door to Grayson’s complex and marched my way to the elevator. It felt like an eternity waiting for the doors to part. Once I stepped into that metal box, there was no turning back. The doors parted and I took a step, but couldn’t cross over the metal threshold. Is this what I really wanted? The doors started to close and I rushed forward, certain of the answer to my question.
It stopped at the third floor and I turned left toward his unit. One step closer to telling the man I loved I was his forever.
Grayson walked through his door, arm draped across the shoulder of the same dark-haired beauty from before. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he pulled her close, placing a kiss on her perfect head.
My heart had a myocardial infarction and my feet froze, too heavy to take the next step.
I forced my feet to move and managed to step backward, hoping to make it back to the elevator before Grayson and his date-of-the-day noticed. To run away. But that little bitch, Fate, had her dirty way with me, and Grayson and his mystery guest both turned in my direction before I could vanish like Casper.
“Noel?” There wasn’t a smidge of guilt in Grayson’s voice at being caught with another woman. Why would there be? Man-whores didn’t feel guilt or remorse or love.
The woman’s lips turned up into a perfect smile that showed her perfect teeth. “This is Noel?” She left Grayson’s side and walked toward me, hand held out like we were good friends.
I wanted to hold my head high, pretend that Grayson’s little sex-mate didn’t faze me. Pretend this situation wasn’t ten degrees past fucked up. I wanted to turn tail. To flee, but I couldn’t. Fleeing wouldn’t get me out of the situation. Wouldn’t allow me to confront Grayson about the piece of crap he was. Wouldn’t give me the satisfaction of walking out of here with the last word and the knowledge that I was right about him all along.
I ignored the woman approaching me, walking past her and straight over to Grayson, who hadn’t bothered to leave the comfort of his still-open door. The anger bubbled, simmered with every step, and when I finally got to him, the pot of rage boiled over the top.
Tears flowed, tears of weakness that slid down my cheeks in long paths. Jealousy got the better of my brain and I slapped him across the face, hard.
Grayson’s head whipped to the side, then came back around, his hand rubbing at my lingering handprint. “Hello to you too, Noel.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “Mind telling me what you want?” His voice as guarded as his eyes.
“Nothing. I want nothing from you. Ever.” The anger blind
ed me and my voice shook as violently as my hands.
“Then why are you here?” His eyes turned pebble-at-the-bottom-of-the-ocean hard.
“I came to tell you I was wrong. That you were the man for me, but I wasn’t wrong. You’re not.” The tears tumbled even though I tried to keep them at bay. “I thought coming here would be the right thing, but…” I pointed to the woman standing down the hall. “I can see I interrupted one of your many late-night booty calls.”
Grayson leaned against the door, not even bothering to defend himself or try to soothe my broken heart. The silence was deafening and confirming and reeked of guilt.
I continued my tirade. “I destroyed Len for you. Crushed his heart and soul. I believed you when you said you would fight for me. Protect me. That you weren’t like Brad.” I gasped, sucking in air through my clenched teeth. “But you’re exactly like Brad. A liar and a cheater and so very wrong for me.”
Ms. Perfect-hair interrupted. “I think you’re misinformed about our relationship.”
Grayson shook his head and his face looked tired and resigned. “Gia, just let her believe what she wants.” He peeled himself away from the doorjamb and walked past me, to her. “It’s not like she’s bothered to get to know me in the past month. She likes to think I’m this horrible individual hell bent on hurting her, but she’s never really given me a moment to prove I am not like the assholes who screwed her in the past.”
He offered the other woman his arm and led her away towards the elevator, but before he entered he peeked his head out. “If you would like to have a civilized conversation, the door is unlocked. I’ll be back after I walk my sister to her car.”
