Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Grace
“W hat color are you getting?” Gemma glances over at me as she stands in front of the wall of nail polish at Cutesie Nails.
“This hot pink color. It’s called”—turning the bottle over, I check the name on the bottom—“ Hi, Barbie . What about you?”
It’s not my normal day to get my nails done, but Gemma invited me to get pedicures with her. She hasn’t had one since before Rosie was born, and I wasn’t going to pass up a chance to hang out with my sister. Especially with our kids being so close in age and in sports together, Gemma and I see each other at least a few times a week, but it’s rare that we get to spend time together without the kids around.
“There’re too many options,” Gemma murmurs, blowing out a breath before finally grabbing a pretty mauve shade. “I think I’ll do this one.”
Once we get seated and dip our feet in the soaking tub, I pull out my phone, checking to see if there’re any notifications waiting for me.
There aren’t.
Ugh. I’m being silly. It’s barely been a few hours since I left Conway’s place; there’s no reason he’d be texting me already. Plus, I know he’ll be busy most of the day helping one of his friends install a fence at his new house. I need to relax, but my head is a jumbled mess this morning, not sure how to feel about last night. Or the fact that I slept over at his house. There’s also an impossible-to-ignore ache between my legs that does nothing but remind me how good the sex was last night.
And this morning.
As if my sister has psychic abilities, she glances over at me as our nail techs sit down in front of us and says, “So, tell me about your date last night.”
Arching my eyebrow, I ask, “Is that the real reason you invited me here?”
“Not the only reason,” she replies innocently, but the hint of a smirk tugging on her lip gives her away. “But I won’t lie and say I wasn’t a little excited to get the dirty deets from you before Georgia and Charley were able to.”
Laughter bubbles out of me at her honesty. “Yeah, because I frequently fill you in last,” I mutter, sarcasm curling around my words. Out of all my siblings, I’ve always been the closest with Gemma. Even though people always assume it would be Graham since we’re twins, but he and I couldn’t be more different. I love my brother, but about the only thing we’ve ever had in common is the color of our eyes and the fact that we shared a womb.
Gemma shrugs. “I just don’t want to miss anything now.”
My gaze softens as I take in my sister. “Why would you miss anything?”
There’s a splash of vulnerability swimming in her big, round, chocolate brown eyes, and it’s impossible to miss the pink to her cheeks as she looks down at her lap before heaving a sigh and meeting my gaze again. “I don’t know,” she admits softly. “It’s just being the only one of the four of us with a newborn, I worry I’ll unintentionally miss things or not be there for one of you when you need us because I’m nursing Rosie, or changing Rosie, or napping with Rosie.”
She huffs out a humorless laugh, and my heart squeezes for her. God, I remember how lonely and isolating it can feel after having a baby. Not to mention, all the intense hormones rushing through your body, never knowing if you wanted to laugh or cry or scream.
“Gemma, hey, look at me.” Reaching over, I squeeze her hand. “You haven’t missed a single thing, I promise. Where is this coming from?”
“I promised Sutton earlier this week that I would take him to the game shop yesterday morning so he could pick up some new game that came out yesterday that he’s been so excited about.” Smiling at me through the tears welling up in her eyes, Gemma goes on. “Then Rosie was up every half hour the entire night cluster feeding, and I ended up sleeping in too late. By the time we got there, they were sold out. And because Sutton is such a sweetheart, he told me it was fine, even though I know he was bummed out. I ordered it for him online as soon as we got home, but still, I let him down.”
“Oh, Gem, I’m so sorry. I know it’s easier said than done, but try not to beat yourself up. You’ve got so much on your plate, and in a week when he has the game, he won’t even remember this.” All I want is to get up and give my sister a huge bear hug, but the woman doing my toenails probably wouldn’t appreciate that. “Please believe me when I say Sutton knows you love him, and he knows you’re doing the best you can. Have you talked to Everett about this?”
She nods, swiping away the moisture under her eyes with her fingers. “Yes, and he’s been so amazing and understanding and helpful, but it really helps talking to another mom who gets it.” Blowing out a breath, Gemma smiles and says, “Now, please, let’s change the subject. These lovely women didn’t agree to a therapy session when they sat down to do our nails.” The nail techs smile up at us awkwardly, and it makes both of us chuckle. “Tell me all about your date, and don’t leave a single thing out.”
My cheeks heat as I dive into the concert and how much fun I had. My stomach does a series of somersaults recounting how it felt when I realized how much effort Conway put into planning the evening. The heat on my cheeks spreads down to my neck when I tell her about going back to his place after the concert ended. I don’t give her every juicy detail because one, we’re in a very public place and we live in a very small town. People talk, and I don’t need to be the center of town gossip for the dirty, filthy sex I had last night. But also, because last night feels special. Conway was vulnerable and honest with me after we had sex. He told me things I’m sure he doesn’t normally share.
Hearing him describe how he got to where he is professionally left me in awe, and learning about his second divorce and how he was cheated on brought me a better understanding of him. The way he recognized his own wrongdoings in their marriage when he could have easily blamed her for everything, refusing to take accountability of his faults like so many men do, took me by surprise. Conway’s been burned in the same way I have, and I can’t help but see him in a different light.
“Wow,” Gemma breathes out, a huge grin on her face, as I finish. “Way to go, C—guy!”
I snort at her almost failed attempt at not saying his name because, again, very public place. The last thing I need is people finding out it was Conway I went out with, and it somehow getting back to one of our kids.
“Do you think y’all will go out again?” Gemma asks as we stand up and head toward the front to pay.
The million-dollar question. Scrunching my face, I shrug. “I don’t know. We didn’t talk about much before I left this morning.”
Nudging my arm with her elbow, Gemma gives me a shit-eating grin while wagging her eyebrows. “Yeah, I’m sure you two didn’t talk much, you dirty girl.”
“Oh, shut up.” I roll my eyes, breathing out a laugh as I reach for my wallet and grab my debit card to hand the lady behind the register. “I’ll pay for hers too.”
“Oh, no need, Miss Grace,” the woman says. “It’s already been taken care of.”
My eyebrows pinch with confusion. Turning my head toward Grace, I ask, “Did you already pay for both of us?”
“Nope.” My sister looks as puzzled as I do.
“I’m sorry, I’m confused.” I huff out a small chuckle, shaking my head. “What do you mean, it’s been taken care of?”
“Oh, uh, there’s a note in the system that your account has been prepaid for a whole year.”
“ What?” I screech louder than I mean to. “No, I think there’s been some sort of mix-up. I don’t think I’ve ever pre-paid before. Is it possible that another Grace pre-paid and it got accidentally credited to my account?”
Shaking her head once, she turns the monitor around, pointing toward the note in question. “No, ma’am. Grace Astor, that’s you.”
“Oh my god,” Gemma murmurs beside me.
I whip my head to the side to look at her. “What?”
“Look at the bottom of the note, Grace. Right there.” She points toward the screen. “The name on the card that was used.”
My eyes scan the tiny text, heart jumping clear into my throat as read the name. Conway M. Levine.
Holy. Shit.
There’s no way.
The woman claps her hands together and smiles cheerfully at us. “So, you’re both all set. Have a wonderful afternoon, and we’ll see you next time.”
Stuffing my wallet back in my purse, I look over at my sister as my mind races. It’s not until we step out onto the sidewalk that either of us says anything.
“I take it Conway didn’t tell you he did this?” Gemma asks, sliding her sunglasses on her face as I do the same.
“He sure did not.” This doesn’t make any sense.
“Holy shit, Grace. He’s, like, really fucking into you.”
“What?” I hiss. “No. He was probably trying to be nice and make up for the fact that he drives me crazy all the damn time.”
Gemma clicks her tongue, and I don’t have to see my sister’s eyes to know she’s rolling them. “I know you aren’t that naive, Grace. Do the math for a second. No man would spend that kind of money, and in secret , if he wasn’t crushing hard on a woman.”
“First of all, Conway is fifty-two,” I scoff. “He doesn’t have crushes . And second of all, you’re wrong. It’s not like that with us. We’re just having fun, keeping things casual. Conway doesn’t do more. And besides, I would know if this was more than that.”
“ Riiight. Sure, you would,” she snorts, patting me on the back. “Listen, I gotta get home, but let me know what he says when you confront him about it. I’ll even do my best to not say I told you so. Love you, byeee!”
I flip her off, which only makes her laugh harder, before climbing into my car and starting it. My heart races and there’s a ringing in my ears as I sit in park for much longer than I care to admit. My gaze drops to my purse in the passenger seat, and I briefly think about calling him, but then I remember he’s busy. But I can’t say nothing. I have so many questions.
So, I send a text instead.
Me: I need to talk to you.
This doesn’t make any sense.
When did Conway do this?
Why would he do something so thoughtful…and expensive.
And why does it make me feel like I can’t catch my breath? A golf ball-sized lump sits in my throat as I attempt to swallow down some of the emotions swirling around inside of me as my phone buzzes in my hand.
Conway: Okay, so talk.
My head drops back, smacking the seat as I groan.
Me: Where are you?
Conway: Davis’s. Waiting for him to get back with lunch. Why?
I stare at the message, then at the keyboard, my heart in my throat.
Fuck it.
Me: Address?
As soon as he sends it, I plug it into my GPS, my stomach twisting with nausea as I pack out of the spot and start on my way. Fuck! The date, the sex, the warm, cozy feeling of falling asleep and waking up in Conway’s arms…and now this. I can’t make sense of any of it.
Or maybe it’s that I don’t want to.
But when I push myself to dig a little deeper into the way I’m feeling—the overwhelming weight pressing down on my chest, and the way my pulse can’t seem to settle down—what I find terrifies me. This… This is exactly why I don’t do casual, why I can never go with the flow . It’s like I’m incapable of experiencing intimacy without my stupid heart getting involved.
The truth hits me like a Mack truck as I turn onto Davis’s street. It’s visceral, sucking the air right from my lungs.
I have feelings for Conway.
Very not-casual feelings.
Fuck me.