by Daphne Slade
Me: Dress nice, but casual. I’ll have the rope and blindfolds ready.
Grace: Be forewarned, I’m now a bona fide expert at escaping binds.
I laugh again.
Me: Then it’s a date.
After idling a bit, I head out in my car. I have an idea of what I’d like to do, being that the weather is still decent. Despite how sophisticated Grace is, I have a feeling she’ll be game, even for our first date.
When I turn on her street, I nearly come to a screeching halt when I see her standing in her doorway talking to Matt of all people. I’m still too far away for them to catch me, but my car is unique enough for either of them to notice it’s me should they look this way.
After the initial surge of jealousy takes over my veins, I let it subside. Whatever is going on, I’m not going to be the kind of idiot to assume the worst. There’s already been too much of that in this relationship.
I do speed up though. The last thing I need is for Matt to see me rolling down Grace’s street after I, in no uncertain terms, made it clear that whatever happened between them had nothing to do with me.
Grace’s eyes finally land on me and I see them widen in a panic. She immediately corrals Matt inside, making sure he can’t see me as I drive by. I speed up even more, just to get away before he decides to turn his head.
When I round the corner, well out of sight, I park on the street and wait.
I have a feeling I know what he’s there about.
I just hope it doesn’t ruin Grace’s mood for tonight.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grace
I saw Noah’s car and decided the smart thing would be to just pull Matt in rather than risk him see it as well.
“What the hell are you doing here, Matt?”
He showed up on my doorstep, pressing the doorbell over and over to the point of outright harassment until I finally opened the door.
“You won’t call or reply to my texts. What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Take the hint—no, the very clear message that we’re over.”
“So…just like that?”
“Would you have preferred me dragging it out? Maybe make you wait three months as well?”
“That’s not fair. We agreed on that break.”
“No, you insisted and I compromised. Just like I’ve always done, it seems.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I want so badly to throw everything I learned from Noah back in his face but I know what kind of shitstorm that would hail down on both Noah and the team if Matt holds a grudge.
“Nothing,” I say with a sigh and wave a dismissive hand his way. “It doesn’t matter. You have your freedom, use it.”
“I never asked for freedom, Grace. I just wanted—for both of us, mind you—I wanted us to make sure this is what we really wanted.”
“After three years, if you aren’t sure, then no, Matt, it isn’t what you wanted. In fact, let’s just call it what it was, you keeping your options open. You didn’t want a break. You wanted a break up, but you were too scared to completely let go, so you left me hanging.”
“And what if I’m sure now?”
I want to laugh. The very thing I wanted only a few weeks ago is what he’s giving me, now that I don’t want it anymore.
“Then I have to say I’m sorry, but I’ve moved on.”
“To who.”
To whom, I long to correct, if only to make Matt feel as worthless and humiliated as he’s made me feel, now that I know everything about him. I know better than to do that. It will just make this messier. “What makes you think it’s someone else? Maybe I’m doing this for myself.”
“It’s Noah isn’t it?”
I stare at him, then laugh. “Noah? The one person I hate more than anyone. That would be some leap.”
“Don’t lie, Grace! Whatever you thought of him, we both know you secretly liked him. It was obvious from day one. The way you were always looking at him, even if it was with a glare. And you were always whining and bitching about him and who he’d brought to the lake house or a party or something. The jealousy was so fucking obvious. I mean, how pathetic do you have to be to pine over someone when you know all the things he’s said about you?”
Negging.
Even now I have the urge to suck in my lips to hide my wide smile. I tug at the sides of my dress—which Matt has yet to notice is nicer than usual, thank God—wondering if it’s ridiculous of me to get dressed up because in what universe would Noah Donahue be interested in someone like me, not when there are girls like Jenny and Heidi and—
Fuck that.
“You know what?” I say, shaking my head to eliminate the doubt and rising anger. “Noah is irrelevant, Matt. I want you gone. From my apartment and from my life. We’re over.”
It occurs to me that I still have a copy of the key to his apartment. I walk to my bedroom and pull it off the dresser, then walk back to hand it to him.
“You’re really gonna do this?” he asks with a tinge of scorn, as though I’m the idiot for giving him up.
“Maybe I’ll see you at Harvard next year for medical school,” I say, giving him a level look. “How are your applications going?”
His face goes red, which tells me that Noah was right about that. For some reason, this pisses me off more than anything.
Rather than face the humiliation of commenting on that he snatches the key from my palm.
I strut to the door and open it once again. “Bye, Matt.”
He gives me a sardonic smirk. “Good luck doing better than me, Grace. With that mouth, your only hope is some desperate guy on Farmersonly.com. Someone who’s used to getting his satisfaction in the stables.”
My mouth falls open and I feel reluctant tears spring to my eyes. Normally, Matt isn’t this biting and mean about the one thing he knows I’m most self-conscious about. When he teases me it’s usually—
It suddenly occurs to me that no decent boyfriend would ever tease me, especially about the thing I’m most sensitive about. In retrospect, it’s no wonder I was so desperate to get him back. He did nothing but make me feel completely unworthy of anyone, including him. I remember all the subtle ways he put me down under the guise of complimenting me. Matt’s entire modus operandi was to criticize something then combine it with something to soothe my ego:
“I just love how weirdly arched your feet are.”
“That dress makes you look like a big pumpkin, all the more reason to get you out of it.”
“Your laugh reminds me of those hyenas from Lion King. Better to use your mouth for kissing me instead.”
Even all those times I thought he was doing nice things for me, they were never without some barb or ulterior motive to them. He’d cook occasionally because I “couldn’t find my way around a kitchen even with a personal tour guide.” He’d allow me to play my preferred music only so he could criticize it. He’d massage my neck only as a segue to sex. When helping me study, if I got one flashcard wrong, he’d point out how “hopeless” I was.
“You really are a piece of shit,” I grit out, staring at him as though seeing him for the first time. “I don’t know what the hell I ever saw in you.”
There must be something in my voice or the way I’m looking at him because he flinches. That gives me a fleeting sense of satisfaction. He scowls and storms through the open door.
“You’ll be sorry, Grace.”
“I’m sure,” I say, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice.
He turns one last time with a look of confusion and anger on his face at the retort.
I slam the door on him. I lean back against it, my breathing slowly returning to normal. I can’t believe I wasted three years on him. It’s no wonder I’m still so filled with self-doubt about everything. I turn to peek through the peephole. As he strides down the walkway and out of my life, hopefully for good, I feel it all ease away.
Once he’s gone I head to the bathroom. The tears have done onl
y minor damage to my makeup. As I fix it, I smile, thinking about the boy I’m getting gussied up for.
I haven’t gone too overboard. I have a feeling Noah isn’t the dinner at Le Cordon Bleu type. My smile widens, showing most of my teeth, as I consider that. I think I’d prefer chili dogs with Noah to filet mignon with anyone else. It suits him.
Hell, who knows? Maybe it suits me too.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Noah
“Is the coast clear?” I ask into the phone, wondering what happened after I parked on another street.
“Matt and I were just…finalizing things, at least I was,” Grace says, sounding confident.
“So it’s safe for me to pick you up?”
“Why don’t I come to you? Matt is in a mood. I wouldn’t put it past him to linger.”
In a mood. I don’t need to ask if that’s a good or bad thing. But I’m liking the bit about her finalizing things.
“I’m on the street right off yours.”
“Okay, I’m headed out now.”
When I see Grace walking up I get out to open the door for her. She smiles at me, but there’s an odd look in her eyes.
“What?” I ask causing her to pause before entering the car.
“All this? Opening doors for me? I thought maybe it was just you joking around with this whole ploy to win Matt back. You don’t have to keep it up.”
“It’s how I was raised. If it makes you feel better, I did it for all my dates.”
“Well, good to know I’m not special,” she says with a self-effacing laugh, but I see how her cheeks color.
“Hey,” I say before she can take a seat. I lean in and tap my forehead to hers. “You are damn special.”
She rewards me with a smile, and I’m pleased to see she doesn’t hold back with it. She gets in the car and I close the door then round to my side to get in.
“I guess the next time you ‘kidnap’ me, we should probably just meet at a designated spot.”
“Yeah,” I say, my lips tightening as I turn on the engine. I’m hating this more and more, especially since this entire thing was built on years of lies.
“So, where are we going?”
“The weather is nice, and the sun doesn’t set for several hours so I thought I’d do something different.”
“Okay,” she says hesitantly.
“That’s all you get.”
She laughs as though she knows I was reading her mind. “Fine then.”
She settles back and I crank up the radio which is still on the oldies station. Today we get “Sympathy for the Devil” by The Rolling Stones.
I’m tempted to press her more about what she and Matt talked about, but I don’t want to ruin the evening with him hanging over it. If she says they’re done, I’ll take her word for it.
And hopefully, Matt will move on. Then, again, he’s always been a sore loser. That’s no doubt what led him to go after Grace once he knew I was interested in her.
It takes about an hour to get to where I’m going and we use the time to finally get to know one another better, mostly in the form of this-or-that questions.
“Salty or sweet?” she asks.
“Salty, all the way. Salt and pepper Kettle chips are my guilty vice. And those pretzels filled with peanut butter? I could die on those things. Also cheddar cheese popcorn, and—”
Grace interrupts me with a laugh. “Good grief, it’s a good thing you practice so much. Otherwise, I’d wonder where you store it all.”
“Yeah,” I say with a grin. “How about you?”
“I think we finally disagree on matters of taste.”
“So you’re the one with a sweet tooth.”
“I am. Give me candy any day over a bag of chips.”
“What kind?”
“Hmm…Twizzlers are my absolute favorite. Otherwise, Jolly Ranchers. I have to be constantly busying my mouth with one or the other while I’m studying.”
“That sounds like my kind of study session,” I say with a grin.
Grace laughs and slaps my shoulder with the back of her hand. “You men just have sex on the brain don’t you?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s a wonder you get anything done, even hockey.”
“When it comes to sports, even sex can’t compete. The one fatal flaw in Mother Nature’s system.”
“And yet again, the mind boggles. But I suppose there’s some underlying evolutionary reasoning there. All those prehistoric pucks and balls that needed hunting.”
“Oh come on now. It isn’t like you gatherers don’t have your unnecessary things you obsess over. What are yours?”
“Nothing,” she scoffs. “Everything I do has a very definite purpose.”
“Right. No…watching YouTube makeup tutorials? No, One Direction fanfic? No, hours spent decorating your bullet journal?”
I feel Grace staring at me agape. “How in the world do you know so much about all of this?”
“Three older sisters growing up. So yes, I know far more than any guy should about braiding hair, Twilight, and many other things I wish I could permanently bleach from my brain. I also learned how to be efficient when it comes to using the bathroom for literally anything, all while ignoring anything I see while I’m there.”
Grace laughs. “Just goes to show that girls can be just as messy and gross as boys, sometimes worse. Two sisters myself, one older, one younger.”
“Well, for me it did have its upsides. There’s something to be said for being the ‘adorable little brother’ when their friends spent the night for a slumber party.”
“Noah…ew,” Grace says, laughing even louder. She has a hearty, full-lunged laugh with a slight feminine touch. It’s nice to see her not hold back on that front either.
“So you know all about growing up with girls as well.”
“Yeah,” she says with a sigh. “But it’s different when it feels like you’re all in competition with each other. Vanessa was the gold standard as far as my parents were concerned. Excellent in everything. Capitan of the volleyball team, class president, perfect GPA. She was so ambitious. I suppose I should be grateful since it had the effect of forcing me to try harder at things I was terrible at like sports and math. I doubt I would have been accepted to Devington otherwise,” Grace sighs. “Then, Eliza came along and made it all seem so easy. I don’t think she takes anything seriously, it just seems to drop in her lap. And to top it off, everyone adores her.”
I have a better understanding of how Grace operates now. No wonder she’s so high-strung. My sisters had their moments when they were complete terrors, as most older siblings are, but at least underneath it all there was genuine affection. Grace makes it seem like her childhood was one big race to the finish line, with her coming in a distant third behind both her sisters.
“Maybe that’s why you’re so likable,” she continues. “Your teammates look up to you. Fans adore you. And the girls, well…”
I grin again. “To be fair, I did have a lot of practice with girls.”
“Oh really?” she muses with a smile.
I frown when I realize how she interpreted that. “I meant with my sisters.”
“Oh really?”
“Not like that,” I say, giving her a sardonic smile. “I meant in terms of getting along.”
“Sure,” she says with a laugh. “Well whatever it was, it worked. Kind of like you on the ice. You’re so…effortless. You make it seem like nothing more than walking out to get the mail or something.”
I laugh. “Of course it’s effortless when you’ve spent most of your life on skates. It would be sad if I didn’t make it seem effortless.”
“I don’t know how you guys do it. I’m like a newborn fawn when I’m on skates.”
“Skating in hockey is different from regular skating. We usually go too fast to fall. Trust me, if I had to try my hand at figure skating, I’d look like a clumsy ox.”
We both laugh.
&nbs
p; “So do you go home for the holidays?” Grace asks.
“Only winter break. It never made sense for me to go back just for Thanksgiving only to go back again for Christmas less than a month later.”
Grace nods. “Yeah, Matt was the same.”
I turn to find her wrinkling her nose. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought him up.”
“No problem,” I say, even though it grates on me. I guess this means he’s met her parents, which makes sense considering how long they were together. “So, no Matt this year.”
“No,” she says with a smile in her voice.
“Would it be too early for me to go? That would be almost three months by then so—”
“No.”
“No?”
“I mean, no it wouldn’t be too early.”
“Okay,” I say with a grin, even though I hear the hesitation in her voice. “But…?”
“But?”
“I heard a but in there.”
“But…I’m not sure you want to start your holiday season off with a visit to the Arlingtons.”
“Come on, it can’t be that bad.”
“It’s not bad it’s just, well…” In my periphery I see her twisting the hem of her dress. “Let’s just say it’s good you’re used to being challenged on the ice. Fighting off fully grown men covered in gear, smashing you into the boards while trying to get a tiny puck into a goal? That has nothing on my parents.”
I laugh. “Challenge accepted.”
Grace laughs, but it’s not quite as hearty as mine. “All I can say is, be careful what you ask for.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Grace
I’m officially in heaven.
“Oh my god, this is…” I take another bite of the hero sandwich. A burst of flavor erupts in my mouth, the juicy polish sausage mixing with peppers and onions. “Sooo good!”
“Told you it would be worth it,” Noah says before he takes a bite of his own.
It’s a stand in some small town in between Devington University and New York City. We’re parked in the lot behind, leaning against the rear of his car as we eat. It’s ridiculously casual, and I love it. The weather is great, the food is even better, the sun is slowly setting in the sky, and I’ve never felt so relaxed in my life.
