Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
Grace
S tanding in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of my room, my stomach is full of nervous flutters and my palms are already sweating. Groaning, I grab my phone off the dresser and pull up the group chat I have with my sisters and Charley.
Me: Guys, this is crazy.
Charley: Girl, if you don’t show us right now *knife emoji*
Georgia: I’m with Char. Let’s see the goods.
Biting back a smile, I switch over to my camera app and position myself in front of the mirror again, popping my hip out and throwing up the millennial peace sign before snapping a picture and attaching it to our text thread.
Me: This, but with the coat over it.
The message barely has time to show as delivered before my phone buzzes in my hand, one message right after another coming in.
Georgia: Holy shit, Grace! *fire emoji* My sister is a fucking BABE!
Gemma: Definitely NOT crazy. You look HOTTTT.
Charley: I’m wet. *water emoji* You looking for a third?
Charley: Kidding…mostly. But seriously, I’m with Georgia and Gemma, you look fucking sexy, Grace. Conway’s going to lose his mind…and his pants.
I can’t help the grin that slides onto my face as I read their messages, and as I glance at my reflection again, chewing on my bottom lip, I force myself to see me the way they do. Instead of examining myself under a judgmental lens, picking out all the areas I would typically wish were different—like, how if I had Gemma’s boobs, the top might look sexier, or if I had Georgia’s hips, the bottoms might fill out better, or if I was taller, like Charley, my legs and my torso wouldn’t look so stocky—I take myself in appreciatively and kindly.
And they’re right… I do look hot. Too bad knowing that doesn’t make me any less nervous.
But fuck it, I’m doing it anyway.
Me: Thanks, girls. You’re the best. I’m leaving my house now!
There’s nothing better in life than a solid, supportive girl gang. Having a circle of women who root for you, always, is invaluable and one of my greatest blessings.
After I tug on and button up the trench coat, I swipe my purse off my dresser and stuff my phone inside before heading out the door like a woman on a mission. I’ve never done anything like this before—never even dreamed of doing it—but apparently, I woke up this morning with a frisky hair up my ass. The closer I get to Conway’s street, the more twisty my stomach becomes. The last time we saw each other after my nail appointment a couple of days ago was ridiculously hot and such a rush, but we didn’t get to talk about anything.
Which, okay, was probably a good thing because my head was such a jumbled mess, I wouldn’t have even known what to say. Ergo dropping to my knees and blowing him. I’ve had time to think about it now, and I still don’t really know what it is I’m feeling, but I think at least talking about it would be helpful. We’re both mature adults; there’s no reason I need to tiptoe around this just because it makes me anxious and sweaty. Maybe if I can figure out where his head’s at, I’ll be able to decipher my own confusing thoughts about the situation… And also, get laid, hence the lingerie, trench coat combo.
Choosing not to overthink it, I climb out as soon as I park my car in his driveway, and with my shoulders back, chin held high, and the sound of my heels clicking against the concrete, I carry myself to the front door and knock.
Don’t overthink it, Grace. You’re hot. You got this.
The door swings open, and a rush of flutters swarms my belly. Except when my gaze lands on the man standing before me, my heart thuds against my ribs and my stomach drops because the person greeting me is not Conway.
“Grace?” His tone is light, and there’s a slight wrinkle to his brow as the corner of his mouth tips up in a way that once made me feel tingly inside.
Taking a step back, my face scrunches up before I have a chance to stop it. “Cole?” I cross my arms over my chest, thankful I didn’t decide to unbutton my coat before the door opened. “What are you doing here?”
Chuckling, my high school sweetheart turned ex-boyfriend says, “I could ask you the same thing.”
Shit. What do I say? How do I explain casually dropping by his fucking dad’s house.
Sweat beads across my brow as I stare up at Cole, wide-eyed, my mind completely blanking.
“Who is it, Cole?” Conway’s deep voice sounds from down the hall a moment before he opens the door wider and appears behind his son. Clamping down on his molars, his eyes rake down my body before coming back up to my face, and I don’t miss the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Grace,” he mutters before clearing his throat and shoving his hands into his pockets.
Fuck, he looks hot today.
“Oh, hey,” I mumble awkwardly. “I was, uh… I was just?—”
“Late again,” he clips out.
My heart stalls as my eyebrows dip. “Huh?”
Cole looks between me and his dad, looking as confused as I feel. “Late for what?”
Yeah, late for what?
Conway’s nostrils flare on a harsh exhale, lips pressed into a tight line as his jaw flexes—a look I’ve seen directed at me at least a dozen times since we got paired together—as his gaze cuts over to Cole. “Grace and I are partners on the PTA this year, and we made plans to meet today to discuss our next fundraiser.” Sighing, he checks his watch before meeting my gaze. “You were supposed to be here twenty-five minutes ago, Grace. Would it kill you to be on time for once in your life?”
It takes a second, but eventually it hits me what he’s doing.
Making a show of rolling my eyes, I spit back, “God, you’re so fucking annoying. Would it kill you to relax for once in your life?”
His lip twitches, and I have to concentrate on not cracking a smile.
Cole chuckles, shifting to face his dad. “That’s never going to happen,” he drawls before looking back at me. “Grace has made being fashionably late a personality trait since middle school.”
Dick.
Looking from one Levine man to the other, I do my best to ignore the fact that they’ve both seen me naked, and that I’ve been up close and personal with both of their dicks. Nothing weird about that. “You didn’t mention Cole was coming when we made the plans,” I mutter, fixing Conway with a look that I hope says everything I can’t right now. Like, how Cole ruined an amazing and sexy plan I had. Also, so much for having that mature conversation. Hiking a thumb over my shoulder, I add, “I can come back later.”
Before I can get down the steps, Cole blurts out, “Nonsense. Dad and I just ordered some pizza. You should stay.” My heart pounds harder as I fight the urge to look back at Conway. “You’re already here, and once y’all are done with the planning or whatever, we can catch up.”
“Oh, uh…” Shit, shit, shit. “That’s alright.” Laughter bubbles past my lips that definitely sounds awkward and forced. “I don’t want to interrupt any?—”
Cole takes a step toward me, places his hand on my back between my shoulders, cutting me off when he says, “You’re not interrupting. Come on.”
Conway heaves a sigh, jaw tight as his eyes find mine. “We ordered plenty of pizza, Grace.”
It’s my turn to clamp down on my molars. “Sure,” I grit out. “I guess I could stay for a bit.”
I follow Cole and Conway inside, fumbling to get my phone out of my purse. My fingers move quickly as I send a panicked message to my sisters and Charley.
Me: SOS! COLE IS HERE!
“Cole, why don’t you get Grace something to drink,” Conway tells his son as he closes the front door behind me. My stomach clenches.
“Sure.” Cole stops in the entryway to the kitchen, meeting my gaze. “What do you want? I think he’s got Coke, Sprite, beer, and water.”
“Water’s fine,” I hurry to say, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.
As soon as Cole disappears into the kitchen, I smack Conway on the arm. “What the hell? You couldn’t have given me a little heads-up that your son is in town?”
“Well, it’s not like you told me you were coming over,” he deadpans, which does nothing but further irritate me.
“When did he get here?”
Conway shifts on his feet, suddenly looking visibly uncomfortable. “Sunday.”
My eyes widen as I whisper-yell, “What? And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“It’s been a busy couple of days,” he says with a shrug just as Cole calls out from the kitchen, “Dad, you want anything?”
Conway’s nostrils flare on a harsh exhale. “Water is fine.”
“It’s been a busy couple of days?” I parrot, gaze narrowing. “Conway, we have texted a handful of times since I left your friend’s house on Sunday.”
Our excuse of meeting to go over the next fundraiser wasn’t fully a lie. We do need to get together and do that, but we just haven’t made any concrete plans yet.
The sound of Cole’s footsteps nearing closer reaches our ears, and Conway lowers his voice as he says, “Not now. I will explain later.”
“Here you go,” Cole says, handing me a cold water bottle. “Aren’t you hot? Why are you wearing that trench coat? It’s, like, at least seventy-five outside.”
Fuck my life.
“I can hang it up for you,” Conway offers, making my heart leap to my throat.
“No!” I blurt out, taking a step back. Clearing my throat, I force a laugh. “Sorry, I’ve just been, uh, chilly all day. I’ll keep it on. But thank you.”
In the living room, Cole and Conway each take one of the recliners while I sit down on the couch. Memories of sitting in front of this same couch after the concert not even a week ago jumps to the forefront of my mind. I cross my legs, trying to ease some of the ache settling between my thighs, while making sure to not reveal too much of my bare leg as I do. God, this couldn’t be any more of a disaster if I tried.
“So, how have you been?” Cole asks, clearly not sensing the tension in the room.
“Been good,” I clip out. “Business is good, kids are great.”
“Oh, yeah.” He smiles. “You own a bakery now, don’t you?”
I nod. “Sure do. Down on Main Street.”
“Very cool. How’s your husband? What’s his name again?”
Conway loudly clears his throat, and I swear, I might throw up. “Ethan,” I offer. “And he’s doing well, but he isn’t my husband anymore.”
Cole’s eyes widen. “No shit? When did that happen?”
“We got a divorce a few years ago.” Glancing at Conway before coming back to Cole, I add, “I’m surprised you didn’t know that already.”
“It’s been years since I’ve been back in town, and I haven’t really kept in touch with anybody.”
I knew that much already, but I guess I just figured somebody would’ve told him. Like, maybe his dad. Although, why would he? As far as Cole is concerned, Conway and I aren’t friendly at all. Now that I think about it, I suppose it would make sense that Cole wouldn’t know anything about my life as of the last ten or so years.
“What’s brought you back to town now?” I ask, the ‘and when are you leaving?’ part implied.
Cole breathes out a laugh. “Eh, just missed Dear Old Dad.”
I don’t miss the way Conway’s jaw flexes and his nostrils flare, and it has me wondering if that’s the whole truth. I also can’t help but wonder—and worry—if having his son in town will have him pulling away. Maybe it was easy to put my history with Cole to the back of his mind because he wasn’t here, but now that he is, will Conway find our…arrangement, for lack of better terms, too weird?
Will he push me away?
The thought leaves me feeling surprisingly uneasy. Or maybe it’s just my current predicament. I’m drenched in sweat with this coat on, and my pulse races, the vein in my neck throbbing. I shouldn’t have come over here. This was a mistake. And why the heck didn’t he tell me Cole showed up?
The three of us continue to make awkward small talk, Cole telling me all about his job and life down in Charleston before Conway and I do our best to actually get some planning done for our next fundraiser, which would be humorous, since neither of us were prepared for this, if I wasn’t so uncomfortable, and the whole time, I do my best to appear interested, even though on the inside I’m fighting the urge to run out of the house. Honestly, what the hell was I thinking? Who in the real world puts on lingerie under a trench coat and shows up to a man’s house unannounced ? I’ve lost my damn mind, and this is my karma for that. This was an awful idea, and I’m being punished for it. This is what I get for trying to be sexy and adventurous. Thankfully, after about twenty minutes, the doorbell rings.
Conway sits up straighter and looks at his son. “Cole, that’s the pizza. You mind grabbing it?”
“Sure. Did you already pay for it?”
“Yes, Cole,” he grits out.
As soon as he’s out of earshot, Conway shifts his gaze to me. “Why won’t you take that thing off?” he snaps.
“My coat?”
“Yes, Grace, your coat. You’re clearly not cold.”
My eyebrows pinch. “Yes, I am.”
“You’re sweating and your cheeks are flushed. What is going on?”
Glancing down the hallway to make sure Cole can’t see me, I look back at Conway as I undo the top two buttons on the trench coat and tug the material to the side, revealing the red lace underneath. Then, never taking my eyes off his, I button them again before lifting the bottom of the coat just enough to give Conway a peek of the matching red panties.
“Fuck,” Conway hisses under his breath as he drinks me in before raising his eyes to meet mine. I preen under his attention, especially as I watch his pupils dilate and throat bob on a harsh swallow. Eyebrow cocked, he drawls, “That for me?”
Pulling the coat back over my legs again, I huff out a breath. “Well, it’s certainly not for the other Levine in the house.”
Heat and something else entirely flashes in his darkened gaze. “Better fucking not be,” he mutters, low and growly. My body instantly warms, only this time it’s not from the trench coat. It’s from the possessiveness in Conway’s tone.
Maybe he won’t pull away after all.
A moment later, Cole strolls back into the living room with the pizza and some plates. I don’t have much of an appetite, but I’m able to choke down a slice. Thankfully, Conway thinks to discuss the PTA and our next fundraiser while we eat to keep up the appearance. It’s better than uncomfortable small talk with my ex-boyfriend about our lives. Surprisingly, we’re able to get a good chunk of the planning done, but after about an hour, I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to pass out from heat stroke if I don’t get home and take this goddamn coat off. Why is Conway’s house so hot anyway?
Standing up, I smooth the back of my coat. “Well, this has been…fun,” I mutter. “It was nice seeing you, Cole, but I need to get home.” Glancing at Conway, we share a private look for a moment before I add, “We can finish this up later this week, if you’re free.”
Clearing his throat, he nods and rises off the chair. “Sure. I’ll walk you out.”
Neither of us says a word as we near the front door, and as he opens it, he guides me onto the porch, where he follows. He closes it behind him, and when I turn to face him, it’s clear he was checking out my ass. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
“How long is he in town?” I ask.
“I’m not sure.” My skin tingles where he places a hand on my hip. Not quite pulling me closer, just holding me. “I want to see the outfit.”
This time, I can’t help the smile that spreads. “Well, that’s too bad, Daddy. You can thank your son for being a cockblock.”
A growl sounds in his throat as his gaze burns into mine. “Send me a picture when you get home.”
I cock my head to the side as my teeth sink into my bottom lip. “I think you’re forgetting to say ‘please.’”
“I wasn’t asking, Sin,” he drawls. A shiver rolls down my spine at the authority in his tone before he softens it when he adds, “Drive safe.”
Not saying another word, I smirk up at him before walking to my car, and as I get behind the wheel and start the ignition, our eyes meet, and his gaze sends a rush of heat to my core.
So, we didn’t get to talk today, big deal. It’ll happen eventually. One thing’s for certain, though… Cole better go home real soon because, as I’m driving away from Conway’s house, I’m pretty sure I have the female equivalent of blue balls.