by Taylor Dean
“So, I think I need to know the answer. Are you still in love with Stony?”
Good question. “I think a part of me will always be in love with him. He was my safe place for a lot of years. But I also know without a doubt that we were not meant to be anything more than friends.”
“Fair enough. I can live with that.”
“Everyone thinks I’m pining for him. I’m not. I miss what we had. But I know it’s over. And I would never interfere with his marriage.”
He nods. “Spencer and Stony told me you’ve had a rough go of it. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Maybe another time.” I can’t think straight with him standing this close. And I’m not prepared to tell him my story just yet.
“But you will tell me?”
“Yes.” Even if we are just friends, I need to tell him my story. It’s better if it comes from me versus hearing the nasty gossip that floats around town. “What have Stony and Spencer told you?”
“Nothing, other than you’re Stony’s ex. They said it was your story to tell.”
He’s honest and I appreciate that. He doesn’t know I overheard the conversation. “That means a lot to me.”
His eyes wander down my face and rest on my lips, then they return to my eyes again. A slow smile creeps over his face, as if he can read my mind and knows I’m attracted to him. How can he not know? My hungry eyes can’t leave his.
Grayson says, “Ever since that first moment I met you, I’ve had the strongest feeling of déjà vu. I felt sure I’d met you before. You seemed so familiar to me. I can’t shake the feeling.”
I don’t know what to say to that. When I don’t respond, he backs away and I actually miss the feel of him standing close to me. I know we just shared a moment and I’m not sure if I should be happy or go cry my eyes out.
I can’t help but wonder if he’ll regret the day he ever met me when he learns the truth. And what about the whole truth? That will be even worse.
I probably don’t need to worry. I’m sure when he knows most of the story, his little crush on me will be OVER before I can say “How fast can you run?”
CHAPTER
Eight
I HAND BLAKE the monitor and grab my purse. “She’s sleeping. Her meds sure do knock her out, but at least she can rest.”
“Okay. Hey, can you pick up some chocolate syrup?”
I swear Blake lives on chocolate milk. That and Pop Tarts. I worry for his health.
“Sure. If you think of anything else, just text me.” I’m on my way to the grocery store and it’s sad that I’m looking forward to the trip. I need some time out of the house. It’s late, but I like an empty store. That way the chances of running into people from my past are greatly reduced.
When I slip out the door, I practically run into Grayson.
“Hi, Mia. Caroline asked if I’d drop by this pot of soup for you. It’s homemade chicken noodle. Sorry it’s so late. She just finished making it and figured you could reheat it and enjoy it for lunch tomorrow.”
My eyes prick with tears. “She’s the best. Please thank her for me.”
“Where are you off to?” Grayson asks as we go back inside.
I set the pot on the stovetop to cool. I’ll put it in the refrigerator when I return home from shopping. It will be the perfect lunch tomorrow. I might even throw caution to the wind and have it for breakfast. Scandalous. See, my adventurous spirit is making an appearance already. Okay, major baby steps, but progress all the same.
“Grocery shopping.” It’s been a few days since our last encounter and I’m choosing to behave as though it never happened. Technically, nothing did. It’s all in my mind anyway.
He glances at his watch. “At nine-thirty at night?”
“It’s . . . the only time I can get away.” That’s not strictly true. Blake has been home since five-thirty.
“Want some company?”
I pause and study him. He’s wearing jeans, an untucked button up shirt, and a leather cord with a silver pendant at his throat that somehow looks amazing on him. “To the grocery store?”
“I happen to love going to the grocery store. It’s my absolute favorite thing to do. When someone asks me how I want to spend my Saturday, I say, ‘Are you kidding? Grocery shopping.’ I go to bed at night dreaming of going grocery shopping and . . .”
I suppress a smile. “Please stop. You can go with me.”
“Can I get a treat?” He winks at me and bestows me with his huge smile. It feels like a gift from heaven.
“Only if you behave.”
As we go out the door, I hear him mumble, “I promise nothing.” This time a secret smile erupts on my face. Again, I don’t let him see it. Once on the driveway we look between my small Ford Focus and his Subaru Forester. “I need to pick up a few things as well. Let’s take my car.”
The mid-September evening is a little chilly and I pull my sweater around me. “Okay.”
As I buckle I wonder how this trip escalated from late night alone time for me to a sort of date with Grayson. Even though I’m fighting my feelings for him, my heart feels happy. It’s such a traitor.
Of course, he surprises me as soon as we enter the grocery store. The first thing he does is grab a bouncy ball from a huge kiosk. He dribbles it as we walk down the aisles, occasionally tossing it into the cart as he says, “Two points.” He grins at me and I fake a scowl. I don’t want him to know how much he affects me. Secretly, I want to join him and toss the ball back and forth. I love how unconcerned he is by what other people might think.
He adds potato chips, red licorice, Cocoa Puffs, and Twinkies to the cart.
“Seriously?” I ask him when he adds a box of chocolate chip cookies.
“Caroline literally has no junk food in the house. I’m dying.”
I wonder how he stays so trim. Probably all that PT the Army makes him do at 0-dark-thirty every day.
After adding chocolate pudding cups, he walks sedately next to my cart, his hands in his pockets. The ball still sits in my basket, looking sad. I feel like it’s longing to be held by him. I can relate.
“Did you like growing up here in Sweetwater?” he asks casually.
“Yeah, I did. It’ll always be home.” Even though I can’t stay here, I’ll always consider it my home. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m trying to decide whether to settle in Abilene or Sweetwater.”
“Abilene.” I know I say it too quickly.
“Why?”
Because no one calls me jailbird there. “I used to live in Abilene. I taught at one of the high schools for a few years as well. There are more opportunities there.”
“Makes sense.”
“How about you? Did you like growing up in California?”
“Oh yeah. Loved it.”
“Are you one of those people who had a perfect childhood?”
He thinks for a moment. “Guilty. My parents are great. Me and Spencer hit the lottery in that department.”
“I guess I can forgive you for that. It’s not your fault.”
He chuckles lightly. “Gracious of you.”
“What do you want out of life now, Grayson? I’m pretty sure you don’t want to settle here just to watch your sister live her life.”
“No, I plan on making a life for myself as well. I’d like to marry and start the whole family adventure thing. I’m ready to drive a minivan and spend my Saturdays teaching little ones how to play tee-ball.”
Sounds like the American dream. I want it so much, it scares me. He’ll make some lucky young lady very happy one day. “Why haven’t you married by now?”
“I date off and on. Some have been more serious than others. I’ve never found the right one though. I think that’s about to change.”
He walks ahead and throws some popcorn in the cart, leaving me to wonder at his words. He turns the corner just as Elton John’s Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart wafts over the store s
peakers.
All at once he leans over, peeking out from the back end of the aisle and lip syncs the words, “Don’t go breakin’ my heart.”
He’s out of sight before I can respond. But I can’t help myself, I laugh aloud. Of course, when I turn the corner, he’s there lip syncing Elton’s next words, “Oh honey, if I get restless.”
I can’t help but smile at him, a huge smile.
His smile fades and he goes utterly still, the song forgotten.
My smile fades too. “What? What is it?”
“You smiled.”
Oh, I did, didn’t I? He reached his goal. He doesn’t know he already has on several occasions.
“You should do it more often. You’re beautiful, Mia.”
“I . . .” I have no idea what to say. He called me beautiful again. I think one of the holes in my heart just repaired itself. I think this man could heal me completely.
I notice movement behind him and my eyes follow the motion. I know the blood leaves my face. It’s an old high school classmate, Sally Gardner. Every mean girl inch of her. My breath intakes sharply. I DO NOT want to see her or talk to her or stand within one inch of her.
Grayson glances behind him and then back at me. “What is it, Mia? What’s wrong?”
“Are you done? Can we go?”
“Yes. C’mon.” Grayson seems to sense that I don’t want to see the person that made me turn white as a sheet.
He grabs the basket and quickly maneuvers it over to the next aisle. We make a mad dash for the checkout line and when Sally curves around the aisle closest to us, he blocks her view so she can’t see me.
I’m facing him and he’s facing me as we stand squished together in the line. I smile at him and he smiles back at me as if we have a secret.
“An old rival?”
“The resident mean girl.”
“Ah, one of those. There’s one in every school and one in every town. You can’t escape them.”
“I don’t feel like being tangled in barbed wire today.”
“Ouch. That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea.” What it really comes down to is that I don’t want Grayson to hear the sharp words that will undoubtedly rain from the very mouth she kisses her mother with. We were having a moment and I knew Sally would ruin it with one fell swoop. Grayson needs to hear my story from me, from my own mouth. And it needs to happen right away. Before the town gossips bend his ear.
When it’s our turn to check out, I tell him, “Hey, you forgot to put the ball back.”
“I’m going to buy it for Brit. She loves to play ball with me outside. It tires her out and helps Shay.”
Yes, this man is family man material. I have yet to find his flaws. If they are as simple as leaving the toilet seat up or leaving the lid off the toothpaste, then he’s golden.
We pay for our purchases and walk hastily out to the car. An older kid whizzes by on his skateboard and yells, “Jailbird!”
Grayson tosses me a quizzical look. “Did he just call you jailbird?”
My heart heavy, I nod in the affirmative. Just when things were going so well, my life ruins the moment. Figures. Life is a huge character in my existence. Maybe the main character.
We load our groceries in his car and take our seats. The interior of the car is thick with tension.
Grayson cranks the engine, but he doesn’t move the car. He breathes in and out heavily. “Why did he call you that name, Mia?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I would like to hear it.”
“Yeah, I know. You deserve to hear it. I just really hate reliving it. I wish it would all disappear and I could start anew.”
“Don’t we all?”
“Me more than most.”
We’re both quiet as we see Sally leave the store in the well-lit parking lot, just a few bags in her cart. We watch while she loads them in her trunk. “Stony and I went to school with Sally Gardner. She had a huge crush on Stony and therefore hated me with a passion. If there’s an opportunity to send a harsh word my way, she takes advantage of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who originally gave me the nickname of jailbird. Of course, it’s been a few years since the last time I saw her. Maybe she’s matured now and I’m just being silly.” I sigh and it comes out as a pathetic sound. “Maybe. But somehow I doubt it.”
Grayson huddles down low in his seat and begins to mumble. “I think our stake-out is complete. We have the perpetrator in our sights.”
I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to lighten the mood. He’s being silly, but I need silly. I want silly. My life is much too serious. I turn to look at him and he meets my gaze.
“Hey, you can either cry your way through life or you can laugh your way through life. What’s it gonna be?”
My heart is not in this, but I choose laughter. I huddle down and join him. “Her crimes against humanity are too numerous to count.”
I look at him again. We’re both hunched down, our cheeks resting on the seat cushions. He smiles at me. “That’s the spirit.” He looks back at our perpetrator. “Besides, we caught her red handed stealing grapes from the fruit aisle and eating them without paying for them.”
I smirk. “Gross. She didn’t even wash them first.”
“There’s no excuse for that kind of behavior. I’m going in.” Grayson acts as though he’s about to leave the car, opening the door and moving to get out.
“No!” I screech, pulling on his arm and laughing at how silly he is sometimes.
I wish I could absorb his happy nature through osmosis. Or just switch lives with him. But I wouldn’t wish my life on anyone.
He gets back in the car. “Duck down, she’s looking our way.”
I lay down on my side on Grayson’s lap, my head resting on his legs. He rests one hand on my head and the other at my waist. “She’s looking this way, probably wondering what all the commotion was about. Should I wave?”
“Please don’t. She’s the type who will come right over.”
“Too late anyway. She’s getting in her car . . . now she’s driving away . . . okay, the coast is clear.”
I turn onto my back and look up at Grayson as he looks down at me. His fingers stroke my hair gently and I know I need to stop him, but I can’t find the will power.
“Grayson, this can’t happen.”
“This?”
“Us.”
“It’s already happening, Mia.”
“But I don’t want it to.” I close my eyes as he continues to stroke my hair. His other hand is still resting at my waist. I love his touch. I don’t want this to end, but I know it has to.
“Why?” he asks.
“When I tell you my story, you’ll understand.”
The light-hearted atmosphere leaves and the tension returns. I open my eyes to find Grayson watching me with concern.
“The store closes at eleven and there’s only four cars left in the parking lot. I think we have the privacy to talk right here and now.”
“Okay,” I whisper. I take a deep, shaky breath. I dread telling my story, but I know it’s time. I move to get up and he stops me.
“Why don’t you stay right where you are? You’re relaxed and it will be easier for you to talk to me.”
It’s true, I feel very relaxed in his arms. And I love his hand in my hair, massaging my scalp. I want to stay right where I am. “You’re distracting me.”
“I’m not sorry.”
I’m so vulnerable to his charms. “You’re making this really hard for me.”
“Actually, I can’t think of a better way to have this conversation.”
“I suppose you’re right.” In my wildest dreams, I never pictured myself telling Grayson my story while lying in his lap. Honestly, I’m not going to argue with the way this scenario is playing out. I’m so on-edge, it’s a miracle I haven’t fallen off some type of imaginary cliff.
“Talk to me, Mia. Why do you go shopping late at night to avoid seeing people? Why
did that boy call you jailbird? Tell me your story.”
“It will ruin the moment,” I whisper. “Guaranteed.”
“No, it won’t.”
“It will and I don’t want to see the disgust in your eyes as you hear my story.”
“There will be no disgust.”
“You can’t promise that, Grayson.”
“I can. Look in my eyes and tell me your story. Don’t look away, not for one moment.”
“I’m scared.”
“Why? I won’t hurt you, Mia.”
“No, I will hurt you. This has to end. We can’t do this.”
“Don’t say that.”
“You’ll agree with me soon.”
“I won’t.”
He will. It will be for the best. I’m deluding myself if I think I can have a relationship with Spencer’s brother. I know myself well enough to realize it won’t work for me. The connection to Stony will be more than I can handle.
I look into his eyes and I see sincerity. I trust him and I feel safe with him. Here goes nothing. I maintain eye contact with Grayson as I begin to tell him about me and Stony. I start from the beginning. I tell him about moving in across the street from Stony’s house and how Stony and I became fast friends. I mention my alcoholic father leaving and how Stony filled the void for me. I tell him about the inevitable romance that started between us in high school. I tell him about college and our engagement and how things unexpectedly began to go downhill for us, even though neither one of us were willing to face it. I make sure to mention that we were waiting for marriage for intimacy, just so he knows how far things went between us. I think he deserves to know those kind of details. I touch on Afghanistan and Stony’s leg injury and how hard it was for him. Then I hesitate. I don’t want to tell him the rest. I know he’ll look upon me differently when he hears what I did. I’m scared he won’t be able to mask the horror in his eyes.
“So, the two of you broke up?” he asks.
“There’s a little more to it than that.”
“You know what? It’s enough. I don’t need to hear all the details.”
“Yes, actually, you do.”
“It won’t make a difference to me.”
“It might,” I tell him. “There’s a lot more to the story.”
