Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
The fresh night air outside sent a little chill over my skin as the door shut behind us.
The silence that followed was sudden and oppressive, but Grant kept walking, my hand in his. His pace was quick and unrelenting.
The possessiveness of it all should’ve turned me off completely.
It did the opposite, causing a low flutter in my stomach to match my racing pulse.
I stopped walking. “Grant.”
He halted but took a second before he turned toward me.
I watched him, noting the V between his brows and the tightness of his jaw. Where was the man with the carelessly unbuttoned shirt, nonchalantly reclining in his chair, an amused twinkle in his eye?
This was a side of him I’d never seen before, and it made me lightheaded and a little reckless.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Of course I am,” he said as though he didn’t look ready to burn my city to the ground. “Are you?”
I nodded, even though my pulse was struggling to come down from its high.
He let out a gush of air, then released my hand and ran his through his hair. “Sorry. I just…”
“Why are you apologizing?”
“I crashed your date. Hard. Something I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do.”
The phrasing made the hairs on my arms lift. He made it sound like he’d had to coach himself out of a desire that had pre-existed tonight. “The date had crashed well before you came over, Grant. At that point, you were extricating me from the burning vehicle.”
His shoulders relaxed a bit. “You don’t need rescuing. You’re plenty capable.”
I didn’t say anything. Maybe I would’ve managed just fine.
But I was glad Grant had intervened.
If you’d set Grant and Leo next to each other in a boxing ring, anyone would’ve put their bets on Leo. But add in the look on Grant’s face in that club…
My stomach swooped.
Leo had put his hands all over my waist, and the only thing it had done was make me feel sick. Grant could simply look at me and send me places I’d never been. And when he’d grabbed my hand…
He rubbed his neck, then started walking. “It’s been a while since I’ve lost my cool like that.”
I swallowed, wondering what had made tonight different—and why I wanted it to be some sort of primal jealousy that had brought him over to me in that club. “You losing your cool is pretty mellow, I’d say.”
“It was unprofessional is what it was. I was there to observe.” His brow creased again, and he shook his head. “But I couldn’t watch another second of that.”
What exactly was that? It felt a lot like jealousy—like Grant hadn’t been able to stand any more of me with Leo. It was shooting off little flickers of something inside me.
The sparks in my chest needed to be doused with a bucket of water.
He’d watched a man ignore my boundaries. To assume jealousy had any part in it was a big jump.
“Is that a commentary on my dancing skills?” I asked, feigning offense as we reached the parking garage.
His mouth quirked at one edge. “Did you dance? I don’t remember seeing anything that would qualify—”
I punched him in the arm.
He laughed and pretended to retreat; I stifled the impulse to nurse my knuckles. Grant wasn’t Leo or the bouncers, but his arm was solid. I shot him the evil eye and pressed the elevator button. The doors opened immediately, and we stepped inside.
I reached for the buttons, my hand hovering at the ready. “Which floor?” After a moment of silence, I looked at Grant.
He blinked a couple times. “Um…four. No. Six.”
I cocked a brow.
“Six,” he said definitively, reaching over and pressing it.
His shoulder brushed mine, and even though my body had rubbed against dozens of people and been somewhat manhandled by Leo not even fifteen minutes ago, the contact left me feeling like I’d been burned. If burning could feel pleasant.
The intensity of the confrontation at the club had dissipated, though, and I forced my mind to stay away from it. It was dangerous territory. I just need to focus on the present and this…parking garage.
Ugh. Grant was leaving his mark on more of my life than I’d anticipated.
Even more frustrating was that it was a one-way street. He was here, enmeshed in the most intimate of ways in my life, while I had no idea what his life was like. He’d return to New York, get back to his normal, and forget about me once he got swallowed up in his next project.
Me?
I’d go to work, and my office would feel weird and lonely and quiet. I’d drive into a parking garage in a random place and think of him. I’d go on dates—if I ever recovered from tonight—and look for him.
It wasn’t fair.
We stepped out of the elevator, and Grant hesitated for a second before turning right.
“So,” he said. “Are we going to run another match cycle? Get another date for you?”
I pressed my lips together. “Too soon, Grant. Way too soon.”
He chuckled, looking around the gray, boxy garage. “Fine. We can wait to discuss that until Monday, I guess.” He stopped in his tracks, a little furrow in his brow as he looked around.
I watched him. “Grant. Do you know where you parked your car?”
He scoffed. “Of course I do. Do you?”
“Nope.” I smiled as he turned in a circle, looking at the rows of cars on either side of us. “That’s the driver’s responsibility.”
“Yup. And it’s definitely on the fifth level.”
I barked an unladylike “ha!” and followed him down the nearest staircase. We walked the rows of cars on that level, Grant pressing the unlock button on his key as we watched for a flicker of headlights. After level five turned up nothing, we headed to the seventh level…which also turned up nothing.
“Did your phone save your parking spot?” I asked. “Sometimes mine does that.”
He laughed. “Have you seen my phone?”
“Fair enough. You might consider a smarter phone.”
“Smart phones make too many of their owners dumber.”
I couldn’t argue with that. “So, what’s the strategy now?”
He rubbed a hand over his mouth as he considered.
“Do you have any idea what level you parked on?” I asked. “Or were 5, 6, and 7 just guesses?”
“Guesses.”
“Nice. Well, there’s only one option, then.” I started walking.
Grant skipped to catch up with me. “What option is that?”
I pressed the up button on the elevator, then faced him. “Walk every level from the top.”
He stared at me.
“Do you have a better idea?”
“Would be hard not to.”
The elevator doors opened, but I didn’t move. “Let’s hear it, then.”
He thought for a second, grimaced, then put his hand on the elevator door to stop it from closing.
That was when I realized I was smiling. Not just because I was vaguely amused by Grant’s capitulation. The prospect of wandering a parking garage on a Friday night shouldn’t have been so palatable. But the bar for the night was admittedly low after the club debacle.
We got out on the tenth level and started the process of looking for Grant’s rental car.
“This seems like a good time for question-for-a-question,” Grant said.
“Not if it’s going to distract you from finding your car.”
“It won’t.” He pressed the unlock button and looked around. “I’m pretty sure it’s my turn first.”
“Of course you are,” I said, but I waited for him to ask his question while my eyes scanned the vicinity for a maroon Corolla.
“What made you so afraid of chemistry?”
My head whipped toward him, and his gaze was waiting for mine.
It was the type of question I’d been expecting him to ask from the get-go—personal, uncomfortable.
The answer to this one required me to delve into things I didn’t want Grant to know, things I was embarrassed about. It would mean telling him about Chase and how the only man I’d ever really let in hadn’t wanted me once he’d gotten to know me.
No, thank you.
“Pass,” I said.
Grant frowned.
“My turn,” I said.
“Wait wait,” he said. “What if I make you a deal?”
“What sort of deal?” I asked skeptically.
He didn’t answer right away. In fact, he was quiet for a few seconds, his jaw working. “If you answer my question, I’ll answer the one I passed on.”
I walked in silence.
What made you so afraid of believing a lie again?
That’d been the question he’d chosen to use his pass on, and I’d almost resigned myself to the fact that I’d never know the answer.
Now he was dangling the answer in front of me, offering me something I’d been wanting from him since day one: vulnerability.
But the price for it was my vulnerability.
Was it worth it?
I shot a sidelong glance at him.
He was looking for his car, giving me the chance to consider his offer in peace.
It was a very tempting offer if I was being entirely honest with myself.
In the club, I’d seen a new side of Grant—something less polished, less easygoing than what he offered every day.
I wanted more of it. A lot more.
Grant took my arm and pulled me toward him as a car came peeling around the turn on the descent to the ninth floor.
He shook his head at the driver, then switched spots so he was on the side with the passing cars.
Stupid sexy chivalry.
“Fine,” I said.
Regret set in the moment the word came out. Was this crazy of me? Was I selling my soul for a snack?
I was hungry. There were donuts in Grant’s car, but at this rate, they’d be stale by the time we got there.
“So,” Grant said, “what made you afraid of chemistry? Or maybe the right question is who made you afraid of chemistry?”
My fingers started to tremble, and I gripped them together in front of me.
I didn’t need to be dramatic about this. I could be matter-of-fact. Telling the truth didn’t require theatrics.
“I dated a guy for a while in grad school,” I said, keeping my tone light.
“It was exciting and new, and I was flattered by the attention. I was naive and thought I’d found the one, whatever that means.
And then…” I stopped. I never talked about this part.
There wasn’t really a way to say it nonchalantly—especially not with this lump in my throat.
“You found yourself in a mess of Pepsi and Mentos?”