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ROCKED BY GRACE (LOVE AND CHAOS SERIES Book 1)

Page 7

by M. J. Schiller


  “Grace?” the guy called out and she whirled about. I ducked behind a tree so she wouldn’t see me. When I peeked around the corner the two of them were on the top step by the door. The guy had his hand buried in her hair and they were going at it.

  Without thinking, I stepped out from my cover. “What the hell, Grace?” The guy spun, still holding Grace’s hair and I jogged the final few steps to the bottom of her stairs. “Who the hell are you?”

  “What the hell do you mean? I’m her boyfriend. Who the hell are you?”

  Grace tried to say something, but it was drowned out by testosterone.

  “I’m the guy she kissed last Saturday.”

  He squinted at me, then took his hand from Grace’s hair and faced me. “You’re Zane Sanders?”

  The question threw me for a second. “Yeah.”

  He trotted down the stairs and stuck his hand out. “Well, I’ll be damned. Zane Sanders. I love your music.”

  I shook with him, though leery. “Uhh…thanks.” I glanced at Grace.

  The guy put his arm over my shoulder, grinning ear to ear and turned back to the door. “So, you know my Grace.”

  I looked from the guy to Grace and back again.

  “You are both crazy!” she screamed at us. “You are my ex-boyfriend, Brad. We ended things four years ago. Ex-boyfriend. And, so help me God, if you ever touch me again you will draw back a nub. And if I see you lurking anywhere near me, I’ll get a restraining order. And you. I would have thought you said enough earlier. Both of you, leave me alone.” She whipped around and ran into the building.

  When the door closed behind her, the quiet was a stark contrast to her shouted words. We stood for a second, stunned, then the Brad guy said, “Wow. She’s mad at you. What did you do?”

  I stared at him balefully then ran up the stairs.

  “Nice meeting you,” he called after me.

  I shook my head, pulling the door open. Guy’s freaking tripping.

  I could hear her keys rattling above, so I bolted to catch her before she went in, but when she saw me, she quickly yanked them out and scrambled inside. I took the final flight in two big leaps and put my foot in the door before she could close it. Hearing a male voice behind her, I lost it and pushed my way into the room. Then all hell broke loose.

  This kid was squealing at the top of his lungs. Some woman stared at me from the couch. And Grace was on her knees in front of the kid trying to calm him down. “Jamie. It’s okay. Jamie, please.” She wheeled on me, tears in her eyes again. “Get out. Why don’t you just leave me alone?”

  What could I do? I backed out the door and closed it behind me. Ever since I’d met this girl I was in like an alternate universe or something. I didn’t know what to say or do, and always chose the wrong way to approach both. I was toast. I couldn’t take it anymore. With my back to her door, I slid to the floor and put my head in my hands.

  What the fuck, Zane? What did you just do?

  The kid was still screaming, but I could hear Grace’s voice over it.

  “Take the fire escape. You don’t want to have to deal with that…mess, out there.” Then she was shushing the kid. “Hey, buddy. It’s okay. No one will hurt you. I’ll make sure of it.”

  The kid’s crying cut through me. He sounded so pathetic. I did that to him.

  Oh, my God, Grace. I don’t know why I keep being such an asshole to you. I need to control my damn emotions. I’m not eighteen anymore, screaming in self-preservation. I’m supposed to be an adult.

  And I thought I got myself together. But like everything else in my life, I fucked that up, too. The sleeping giant that was my rage and insecurity was awake. I turned to put my ear to the door. I could hear her.

  “Sh-sh-sh. It’s okay, honey. I won’t let anyone hurt us. Just relax. Lay on my chest. It’s okay. Everything is all right….”

  His sobbing quieted some, and her voice got steadily softer as she soothed him. I don’t know how long it went on like that. It seemed like hours. But her voice was lulling me, too. Like some siren I heard it calling to me, reaching a place deep inside of me and comforting me.

  If I gave a damn about this girl, I would leave. She deserved so much better.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Grace

  After a horrid night’s sleep, I almost didn’t answer the phone when it rang at eight a.m.

  “Uhh…Gracie? Whatcha doin’?”

  Payton. I had to smile. “Making pancakes. What else would I be doing? You’d think the kid would get sick of them at some point.”

  “Uhh…yeah. You might want to come out into the hall.”

  I stopped stirring. “Oh, God. Why?” In my head I saw horrible pictures of Brad wreaking destruction on the building and its tenants.

  “’Cause a rock star’s asleep on your doorstep.”

  “What?” I rounded the kitchen corner and stared at the door as if I could see right through it.

  “Zane Freaking Sanders is asleep out in the hall and he even looks hot unconscious. How does he do that? Anyway. I’m kind of afraid someone will step on him or trip over him if they round the corner too fast. And his neck has to be God-awful stiff.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  He slept out in the hall? Could my life get any more bizarre?

  Jamie was in my bed watching cartoons, so that would buy me a little time to deal with Zane.

  When did dealing with a rock star become part of my life?

  Again, I had to laugh. Because sometimes that was all I could do to keep from crying. I’d had enough emotional turmoil lately. Seeing Brad in the park after four years. Out of the blue. Having him show up at my place, grab me by the hair and force a kiss on me. Followed shortly by Zane and Brad having a pissing match, Zane following me in, barging into my place, and scaring the shit out of Jamie. And Lexi and me. Oh, wait. I forgot the lovely scene at the store where Zane called me a slut in front of my customers. That had to be counted in there, too.

  I am so glad I’m single.

  Even as I thought it, I knew it was a lie. I was horribly lonely. I mean, I had lots of friends. Great friends. But…I needed someone in my bed to hold me when I didn’t think I could take anymore. I needed someone in my bed who could help me to figure things out, like how would I make rent? How would I get Jamie to school today if Lexi was sick? How would I keep from crying when every last nerve was frazzled? I needed someone in my bed to…well, I needed someone in my bed. I needed to feel loved and cared for. And hot, sweaty sex wouldn’t hurt either.

  Staring at the door, I took a deep breath. I would face this like I faced everything, straight on. Stiffening my chin, I marched across the carpet to the door. I went to draw the lock back then realized I had never locked the door. With Brad practically threatening to rape me outside, and a raving lunatic of a rock star apparently inside. I frowned and yanked the door open, and he fell right between my legs with a thump. His head hit the ground pretty solidly. Payton and I gasped. My first instinct was to help him and make sure he was okay, but the shock of a man flopping through my door first thing in the morning had my brain kind of whirring.

  He groaned, blinked, and opened those wildly green eyes of his. He grimaced and seemed to try to focus on me while rubbing his hair. “Grace. Hi,” he said as if this all was a normal part of the day.

  “I’ll let you guys be alone then.” Payton exaggeratedly tiptoed down the stairs.

  I went with blunt. “What are you doing here?”

  He scrambled to his feet then teetered. “Mmm.” His hand went to the back of his head again.

  I took a step forward. “Are you hurt? Is it bleeding?”

  He dropped his hand. “No. No. I’m fine.” He stared at me. “Can I say you look very nice this morning in your robe?”

  I totally forgot what I was wearing. I pulled it closed more. “No, you may not.”

  “Fair enough.” He seemed struggle to find words.

  Funny. He was throwing them around easily enough yesterday.


  “You slept out here in the hall?”

  “Uhh…” He inspected the area. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  Did he hit his head that hard?

  “Grace, I’m so, so sorry for the things I said and did yesterday. So sorry. I can’t even tell you how bad I feel. I was a complete and utter jackass.”

  No argument there.

  “And I have no excuse for it. No explanation even, other than…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” He dropped on his knees, his hands folded in front of him. “Please, Grace, say you’ll forgive me.”

  So, okay. My heart melted. I know it was stupid…but my heart didn’t always listen to what my mind was screaming at it. Brad was proof of that. Knowing Payton was outside and one of my neighbors could literally trip over us at any second, or worse yet, Jamie might see him, I tried to think of a solution. “Zane. Please get up.”

  Obediently, he jumped to his feet, watching my response to his every word like it was a lifeline and he was a drowning man.

  “We can’t talk out here. Come in.” I waved him in, and he brightened, following me. “We can’t let Jamie see you,” I whispered. “He’d freak out.” I hurried him into the kitchen, opened the window, and stepped out onto the fire escape. I folded my arms around myself. The morning breeze was chilly, and I didn’t have much on. I turned and he was standing there, in front of the window. “No.” I took him by the shoulders and moved him to the other side of the window, pressing him against the brick wall. The brick and the fire escape had been added to the old building at some point. Touching him was a mistake. His chest was huge and strong, and…it was not a good idea. “Zane…what are you doing here? How did you find me? How does everyone keep finding me?”

  “Uhh…there might be a few videos of us on YouTube?” He winced.

  I exhaled, spun, and crossed to the opposite side of the landing, gripping the railing and rocking from heel to toe. “Great.” I put a hand on my head, closing my eyes.

  He came up behind me and took my shoulders. “Grace…”

  God, he felt so good. I truly wanted to fall into his embrace. To press him against the wall and kiss the hell out of him. But that wasn’t going to happen. He needed to leave. I twirled in his arms, like we were dancing again. And weren’t we? “Zane. You have to go.”

  “What? You won’t let me explain?”

  “Grace?”

  “Shit. It’s Jamie.” I pushed Zane back against the wall again. “Coming, bud.” My voice was shaky. I needed to get a grip before Jamie caught on. “You stay here,” I hissed. “Do not, under any circumstance, let Jamie see you.” I slipped back through the window, which they had thankfully widened during renovations. Jamie came into the kitchen about two seconds after my feet hit the floor. “They’re not quite ready. You get the syrup, Syrup.” It was our little joke. He asked for a nickname at one point and all I could think of was that it should be sweet because he was such a sweetie, and…maybe the syrup bottle was out, which it was much of the time, and that’s where I got my inspiration. So I called him Syrup, and it stuck. Of course it is sticky.

  I exhaled, gave the batter another stir, and turned on the burner. We hadn’t talked about Zane barging in last night yet, and I hoped he wouldn’t bring it up. Luckily his mind was totally filled with pancakes. He came to get a fork and knife and stopped on the way back to the table to hug my waist. This was why his name was Syrup. I ruffled his hair. “Aww. Thank you, bud. Only a few more minutes.” I smiled at him and he looked at me with twinkling eyes. If pancakes made him happy, I’d make them every day for an eternity. “Let’s see. We have the syrup, a fork, a knife…what else do we need?”

  “Pancakes!” he shouted.

  I laughed. “Well yes. But anything else?” I tried to teach him to be as self-sufficient as possible. My biggest nightmare was what would become of him if something happened to me. He wrinkled his nose. “What will I put the pancake on when it’s finished?” I flipped it. “Your hand?”

  He lifted his hands with a grin.

  “No, silly. That would maybe hurt because it would be hot. Not to mention it would be very messy. What else could we put it on?”

  He held up a finger. “A plate.” He scurried to get one.

  “Exactly. Good job.” I poured him a glass of milk, took the plate, and brought it back to him with my first batch. “Miss Lexi should be here in a little while. What do you think you’ll do today?”

  He was shoving in pancakes so I didn’t expect him to answer at first. “Go fishing.”

  “No. Remember? Miss Lexi doesn’t like worms.”

  He nodded.

  I almost said I’d take him after I got back from work, but I didn’t want to promise anything I might not be able to deliver. And he would remember I promised, for sure. I flipped my next batch and came over to the table. “I’m sure Miss Lexi will find something fun.” He nodded. “Hey, dude. Smaller bites. We don’t want you to choke.” He choked once when he stuffed an entire piece of spice cake in his mouth. Scared the shit out of me. I returned to my work, wondering if Zane left. That would be a relief. And a disappointment, damn it.

  “Gracie?”

  “Hmm?” I brought some more pancakes over.

  “Is Brad going to come back again?”

  God, I hope not. “No, bud. I think he’s gone. He doesn’t live here, remember? He’s in Montgomery City.”

  “But what if he moved here?”

  A chill ran up my spine. I didn’t think of that. He was psycho enough to do it. I squatted beside Jamie and put a hand on his leg. “I don’t think he did, bud. And even if he did, I’d make him go away.”

  “What about that other man?”

  Shit.

  I knew if Zane was out there he could hear every word we were saying. “Who? Zane? He’s one of my friends.”

  “He didn’t seem like a friend.”

  “He was upset. Like you get if I don’t make you five trillion pancakes every morning. Right?”

  He nodded and dug in again.

  I thought about Zane outside. If he was still there, he was probably hungry. I tried to subtly slide a few pancakes on a plate for him. When I turned around, Jamie was behind me, holding up an empty plate. I raised my brows. “More?”

  He nodded in an exaggerated fashion. He eyed Zane’s plate. “Are you having pancakes today?”

  “Uhh…yeah.”

  “No yogurt?”

  “Not today. I felt like it was more of a pancake day. Is that all right?”

  “Sure. I’ll share,” he said lightly, focused on the pancakes I was about to set on his plate.

  When he finished, I told him to watch cartoons until I came to get him. He ran off happily. I grabbed a fork and knife from the drawer, poured syrup on Zane’s pancakes and stepped outside, half expecting him to be gone.

  “Oh, my God. You’re an angel. Those smelled so good.” He dug in right away, but commented between bites. “Your son seems to really like pancakes.”

  “Son? Oh, no. That’s my little brother.”

  “Oh?” He frowned. “Quite an age difference, isn’t there?”

  I crossed my arms, watching him eat. I was tempted to tell him to eat smaller bites, too. “Sixteen years. He probably seems a lot younger than he is. He has certain challenges.” I always found it hard to explain Jamie’s issues. Hell, the doctors weren’t even sure what caused it, other than saying my mom was forty-one when she had him and her eggs were probably expired by that point.

  “Oh.” He continued eating, his brow furrowed. “So, umm…he’s visiting then or…?”

  “No. He lives with me. My parents died when he was two. I pretty much raised him.”

  He swallowed hard. “Wow. That’s—wow.” He tapped his fork on his plate. “That must be hard.”

  I shrugged. “It has its moments.” I felt uncomfortable talking about myself. “So, listen. You didn’t come here to get the Grace Clayton Prescott bio.” I sighed. “Why did you come?”


  He stared at his plate for a moment then set it on one of the steps going up. “I want to apologize for…causing a scene in your shop. I was completely out of line. And what I said later….” He stepped forward, tentatively grasping my biceps. “Grace, I didn’t mean any of it, I swear. Sometimes my mouth….” He released me. “I don’t even know what to say. I was totally out of control, acting like a crazy person.” He took a step back. “I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have even come.” He ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know.”

  “Why did you come? Before all the craziness, what was your reason for coming to Jeff City?”

  He looked at me. “I had to see you.”

  I think his confession shocked us both. I stepped toward him. “Why, Zane?”

  He glanced away and back. “I had to know if you—” He stopped taking a breath. “After we kissed, why did you leave?”

  I wasn’t expecting that. I lowered myself onto a stair. He moved his plate, and sat beside me. I played with the edge of my robe, trying to make myself understood. “To be honest, I don’t know. I…I was scared.”

  “Of me?”

  “No. Of…the way I felt when I was with you.” I looked away. “God, this is embarrassing.”

  He lightly took my chin and turned me back to him. “No,” he said quietly, gliding his thumb across my bottom lip. I was surprised to see he was teary. “I felt it, too.” His gaze roamed over my face. “Grace, I’ve thought about kissing you since that first time on stage. I fantasized about kissing you softly and gently like this….” He bent in, brushing his lips over mine, before kissing me tenderly, teasing me, drawing me into him. I never was kissed like that, so full of…something. I could feel his need. And my own urgent need for him. He separated from me, but stayed close. “And I fantasized about kissing you hard and dirty like this.” He trailed his fingers down my throat and applied more pressure with his mouth. His tongue was wicked, stirring me, bringing me to life.

  This is crazy.

  I pulled back, my palm on his cheek. I lay my forehead on his for a second, squeezing my eyes shut. “Oh, God. No.” I wanted him, but I was deluding myself. I got to my feet, covering my face. He rose, too.

 

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