Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
GRAYSON
I put the ladder back in the garage and double check Mom’s list again, making sure I did everything she asked. Cleaning out the gutters was the most time consuming, but I didn’t want to make Owen have to do it when he does a ton of other stuff for her throughout the year.
“All done,” I call out as I head inside. “I’m going to shower real quick.” I’m not driving home for four hours smelling like this.
Mom’s disembodied voice echoes from the kitchen. “Okay, I’ll have lunch ready when you’re finished.”
I join her ten minutes later to find sub sandwiches and thick slices of leftover wedding cake on the kitchen table.
“We’re having cake for lunch?” I ask, pulling out a chair.
“Someone has to eat it.”
“Jenny and Jamie didn’t offer?”
Mom smirks. “Kristen didn’t give them the chance for some reason.”
I swipe my finger through a glob of buttercream frosting, relishing the sweetness. That bakery in Kirkwood knows what they’re doing.
There’s a pang in my chest as I remember driving there with Abby yesterday morning. How beautiful she’d looked in her bridesmaid dress. How easy it was to talk with her, the two of us picking up conversation like we’ve been doing it forever. How close we’ve become this week.
I swallow hard, the frosting turning sickly sweet in my mouth, nearly overbearing.
“Did you have fun at the wedding?” Mom asks as I grab a sandwich and put it on my plate.
“Yep.” I brace myself for her next question, knowing it’s coming.
“So what’s going on with you and Abby?”
And there it is. God, where do I even start?
Then again, nothing’s going on anymore. We said our goodbyes.
“We were just wedding dates,” I mumble, taking a big bite of sandwich to avoid responding any more.
She gives me an unimpressed look. “Is that so?”
I nod, chewing slowly, but she simply stares at me, waiting for more. Shit.
“It was never supposed to be anything more,” I add, needing to justify myself. “It was only for this week.”
That’s what I keep repeating in my head, over and over. At some point I might actually believe it, too.
“Hmm.” There’s a wealth of meaning in the sound, but I don’t want to decipher it. I shouldn’t have bothered to shower and eat lunch here. I should have left as soon as I put that ladder away, avoiding interrogation.
If I’m lucky, she won’t mention how she caught me kissing Abby at the winery, how I’ve been flirty with her since. And especially that I didn’t sleep here last night. She had to have noticed.
“So you two aren’t anything?”
My lips compress, the sandwich turning to sawdust as my throat goes dry. This thing with Abby… It can’t be anything more. I don’t live here.
I shake my head once, looking down at my plate.
“Well, good.”
My head snaps up, nearly giving myself whiplash. “Good?”
She nods. “I haven’t spent much time with Abby lately, but I forgot how delightful she is. There’s a new P.E. teacher at the elementary school I think she’d hit it off with. I’ll give him her number.”
The food in my stomach turns over, sending a wave of nausea through me. “What?” I manage to get out through dry lips. She’s going to set Abby up with someone?
She calmly takes a bite of cake and chews before answering. “Brandon. He replaced Coach Jensen at the beginning of the semester. Lovely boy. Has the thickest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a man, but he somehow pulls it off.”
My head is spinning. Who the fuck is this Brandon guy?
“He obviously likes children if he works with them,” Mom continues obliviously. “And I’m sure Abby will want to start a family sometime soon. I mean, a teacher and a librarian? What could be more perfect?”
I let go of my sandwich when I realize I’m crushing the bread. “I don’t think Abby’s interested in dating,” I say, needing to come up with some kind of reason for her not to give this guy Abby’s number. How could my own mother do this to me?
“Why not? She went to the wedding as your date. So she must be open to dating.”
“That was…” I clear my throat. “As a family friend.”
She gives me a bemused look. “She kisses her friends like that?” Shit. I knew she’d bring that up at some point. “No, she’s clearly interested in dating. And she deserves some happiness. Especially if there’s nothing going on between you two.”
I go still. Oh. So that’s what this is about. She’s calling my bluff. I either tell her I like Abby or she’ll set her up with someone else.
I am interested in Abby, but how is it fair to lead her on? She lives here and I live in Seattle. Even if we were both open to long distance, isn’t the end goal always to eventually be in the same place?
Would Abby move to Seattle?
No, how could she? Her family is here and they need her help.
Then that leaves me. And though I’ve known Abby nearly all my life, we only started hooking up four days ago. Four days. How could I upend my whole world based on four days?
Besides, this is all assuming Abby even wants anything else with me. There’s a good chance she’s perfectly fine with how we ended things.
My chair skids across the floor in a loud screech as I stand. “I have to get going,” I mutter as I abandon my lunch.
Mom’s unconcerned expression turns flustered. “So soon?”
Oh, so she doesn’t like her bluff called either? Well, too bad. Neither of us is getting what we want.
A fresh stab of guilt and hurt lances through me as I grab my suitcase from the guest room, what used to be me and Owen’s room growing up. Mom converted Kristen’s room to a playroom for Jenny and Jamie years ago.
“I’m having a Mother’s Day lunch here in two weeks,” Mom says, bustling behind me as I stalk down the hallway toward the front door. I usually like looking at our school pictures lining the walls, but I’m too worked up to pay attention this time.
“Owen and Kristen will be here,” she continues, ignoring my non-response. “I’d love it if you could make it down.”
Which implies you better be here, or else . “Yeah, I’ll come.”
I open the front door and pause. That means I’ll be in town again. I could see Abby.
There’s a jittery sensation in my stomach, anticipation racing through me. Is this what a junkie feels like when they’re about to get their next fix?
No, maybe what I need is a clean break. If I keep seeing her, keep thinking about her, won’t it only prolong this hurt?
“Are you okay, honey?” Mom asks hesitantly from behind me.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, I’m fine. See you in two weeks.”
I give her a quick hug and get in my car. My stomach is twisted up in knots but I ignore it, speeding out of town towards home. If I get back into my normal routine, the otherness of this week will disappear. Crescent Pass will disappear.
Abby will disappear.
“Charles, can you get those pro forma statements to me by end of day tomorrow?”
My boss, Robert, is all business as usual at the head of the conference table, but everyone else on the team is lounging in their chairs, relaxed during our informal daily check-in.
“No prob, Bob,” Charlie says, giving him a salute. He’s playing with fire since Robert hates nicknames. He won’t even call his employees by anything less than their full name.
Robert gives him a sideways glance. “You sound like Grayson.”
I’d take offense to that… if he wasn’t right. It does sound like something I might normally say. Not today, though.
“Well, Grayson’s had a stick up his ass the last two weeks,” Charlie says casually, “so I have to fill in for him.”
There are a couple of good-natured ooohs from around the table, but I ignore them. Charlie’s also right about that. Unfortunately.
Robert turns to me. “Why do you have a stick up your ass?”
“No reason,” I mutter, avoiding his eye.
“If you ask me, it’s because he had to spend a week in Podunk City,” Charlie chimes in. “And then has to go back again this weekend.”
I’m silent, grinding my molars. I usually enjoy riffing with Charlie, ragging on each other until one of us busts out laughing.
But there’s no laughter today.
“You have to return?” Robert asks. “Do you need more time off?”
“No, everything’s fine.”
That’s blatantly untrue based on the way my jaw clenches and my shoulders bunch around my ears, but I don’t think anyone will call me on it.
I give Charlie a death glare when Robert turns away, and for the first time in the last two weeks of busting my balls for my shitty mood, he looks like he realized he went too far.
The atmosphere is tense for the rest of the meeting, and I fully own up to making it that way, but I can’t seem to bring myself to make my usual jokes and quips to lighten the mood. My body’s on edge, my skin prickly. I can’t shake this feeling that I’ve made a huge mistake. I just don’t know what about.
My eyes squeeze shut. That’s not true. I know exactly what about. But what can I do?
I’m the first one out of the conference room door when the meeting is over, pounding down the hallway. If I walk fast enough, maybe I can escape my own thoughts.
But as I return to my office, I find I’m not alone. Charlie trailed me, and as he shuts the door behind him, he says, “All right, I was going to save this for when you’re being nicer, but maybe this will get you out of your funk. Bianca is willing to set you up with one of her model friends. We can go on a double date after you get back from Podunk City.”
“Will you stop fucking calling it that?” I explode, slamming the folder of papers in my hand onto my desk. They fly loose, spreading out every which way over the desk and floor.
Charlie blinks at the mess, shocked. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” I grit out, unwilling to put this growing restlessness into words.
“Bullshit. I’m dropping a prime opportunity in your lap, and all you can focus on is what I call your hometown? Which you call, too, by the way?”
Yeah, but not since this last trip. Not since everything changed.
“And don’t tell Bianca, but these girls are smokeshows. Even hotter than her. You’d be lucky if any of them gave you a chance.”
My nostrils flare. “I’m not interested in dating your girlfriend’s model friends. And you shouldn’t be talking about other women being hotter than her. She should be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You wouldn’t even think about other girls if you loved her.”
It’s silent in the small space after my outburst, other than my harsh breaths. I’m all worked up, completely unnecessarily. I barely know what I said, and as I replay it in my mind, my mouth dries. I shouldn’t be taking what I feel about Abby out on him.
Not… not that I love her. I don’t. How could I? I left her.
And even then, it hasn’t been enough time. Like I told myself the day I left, it was four days. Four amazing, intense days that seemed to go beyond the laws of physics, of time itself. A lifetime of being with her was packed into those four days I learned her body, learned what makes her gasp and groan. Learned how uninhibited she can get, how her skin flushes with pleasure when I turn her on, how she can make me rock hard with only a sultry look.
And before then, there were the days of getting to really know each other, beyond the superficial things. Then the years of shared history, of her always being a part of my life, a fixture in Crescent Pass I’d taken for granted. Never realizing what was under my nose the entire time.
“Do you have a thing for Bianca?”
Charlie’s question startles me out of my reverie. What? That’s what he got from that? “No. Christ.” My gaze flicks up toward the ceiling, a headache brewing behind my eyes. “I met someone in Crescent Pass. I…” I swallow hard. “I miss her.”
That’s the understatement of the century, but I don’t want to get into it. Charlie and I aren’t the let’s dissect a relationship type of friends, anyway.
“Oh, so that’s why you’re crabby. You want to get laid. Well, go do that this weekend and come back in a better mood.”
I stare at him, speechless. We’ve been friends for years and that’s his advice? Has he always been this insensitive?
“Right. I’ll go do that,” I tell him, wanting to drop the subject. “I need to get started on these forecasts for Robert.”
“Yeah, okay.” He lingers for a moment, looking uneasy. He’s not used to me brushing him off, but I don’t have the bandwidth right now to smooth things over. Especially if he’s going to be so callous. I tell him I met someone and his only response is I must be hard up?
I mean, I am hard up, but that’s not the point.
After he leaves, I slump down in my desk chair, scrubbing my hand over my face. I can’t keep going on like this. Powering through every day at full force, not letting myself stop for fear I’ll think about—
I pick up my phone, a reflex I can’t seem to break. I set it back down like I have a hundred other times over the past two weeks. I want to text Abby. To hear if she’s thinking about me, the same way I can’t stop thinking about her, despite my best efforts.
I want to hear her soft voice, for nothing else than to tell me about her day. What happened at the library, what she had for lunch, if she has plans with her friends after work. I want everything from her, while giving nothing of myself in return. I want her to tell me she misses me, without admitting I think of her every night lying in bed. How I can’t sleep because I swear I can smell her on my pillow, even though that’s impossible. She’s not part of my Seattle life. My real life.
She’s part of a fantasy life I left behind. One that was never real.
What good would it even do to reach out to her? To ask to see her again when it’ll lead nowhere?
My head drops into my hands. I need to talk to someone about this. Bottling up my feelings obviously isn’t working out well if it’s affecting not only my personal life but my work now, too. But who?
I mentally flip through a list, dismissing each one. They’re all surface-level friendships, where we bitch about work or the latest hockey game, not about being afraid that you’re falling in lo—
No. That’s not what’s happening.
My palms go itchy, something loose jumping around in my stomach. I’m… I’m misremembering things. It wasn’t really that good with Abby. It was only new and exciting. If I went back again, it wouldn’t be half as great as I think I remember.
Maybe… Maybe I need to put it to a test. To be with her one more time to prove to myself that it’s not good as—
I nearly laugh out loud at my delusional self, grasping at straws like this. Honestly, though, I don’t care at this point. Just the thought of being with her again has a rush of warmth flooding my chest.
My decision rolls over me, my timeline for heading to Crescent Pass this weekend drastically moving up. Even if there’s a chance Abby won’t be interested. Even if I gave her a shitty goodbye and left her. Even if she hasn’t reached out to me, either.
I can’t keep going on like this. I need to figure things out.
One way or another.