34. THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FOUR
The shrill ringing of my alarm jolts me out of my sleep.
My neck cracks painfully as I lift my head, blinking through the blur of last night and spotting Gray curled up next to me. His face is smooshed against my thigh, the broken leg straight, while the other is tucked up under it.
I quickly grab my phone out of my pajama pants, silence the alarm, and gaze down at him again. His hand holds my leg possessively, a nice-sized drool puddle staining my pants. An empty wrapper is wedged under his arm. Water bottles are at my feet.
Fuck.
It all comes back to me in a surge.
It isn’t that I was so drunk that I couldn’t control myself, but it certainly didn’t stop me from exploring these feelings I have for Gray—feelings that are too intense, too real.
While my heart kicks against my chest, I gently run my fingers through his tangled locks, pushing them away from his face.
Much like every other time I’ve watched him sleep, he looks angelic and serene.
And as I suspected, there was no trace of nightmares.
I don’t even remember passing out, only that I must’ve. Warmth swirls low in my stomach as I recall Gray taking care of me. He made sure I ate the crackers, hand-feeding me when my body grew too weak.
None of the men in my past ever cared.
None of them even considered what I might need past sex. Granted, I never allowed it to get that far, but this beautiful person beside me has given me endless firsts.
He’s made me want more.
But I can’t have more.
It physically hurts to replace my leg with a pillow.
And it hurts even more as I shower, get dressed, and write a note for him while waiting for my coffee to brew.
If I’m late, my dad will come sniffing, and I can’t allow that to happen.
If he finds out that Gray is here…fuck, I don’t know what he’ll do.
So I let him sleep and silently slip into the garage.
The three-minute drive to my parents’ house only makes the pain and anger at my situation grow.
All I can do is get through this morning. After that…I can decide what I’m going to do about Gray.
If I could, I’d never let him leave. He could stay with me like he has been, and I’d gladly take care of him. Anything he wants, I’d give freely. It’s a silly dream.
I park in my parents’ driveway, pull up the Instacart app, and place an order.
Afterward, I text Gray, telling him to help himself when it comes.
A random delivery driver shouldn’t cause too much fuss over seeing him.
With any luck, Gray will still be asleep when the driver gets there and will leave the stuff on my porch.
I’m fucking stalling now; I know that I am, but I don’t want to do this.
Press conferences are a drain no matter what time or plans you have waiting, but knowing I had to leave Gray alone to do this has my mood tanking so far down I don’t know how I’ll get it back up. When my dad throws open the front door, beckoning me to hurry, I grind my teeth.
Get through the morning.
Flashes blind me, and an overwhelming roar of press demand answers to their many questions while I stand like the good little minion I am.
I hadn’t realized just how much damage control I would be a part of until my dad laid it all out for me earlier.
O’Connell cut deep.
Not only is he gunning to remove my dad from office, but he’s got recordings that he’s threatening to release to the public. Of course, my dad has a plan for all of that.
Me.
“As you know, my cousin is openly queer and beloved within our family,” I answer the first reporter, demanding to know why there are claims surrounding my dad and his potential shift in stances involving the LBGTQ+ community.
“Fiona Reese?” the young man clarifies.
My throat wants to clamp up as I cover for my dad, knowing everything is a fucking lie. “Yes.”
I watch the reporter take a mental note, a shimmer in the brown eyes hiding behind thin glasses. He knows I’m full of shit. One phone call or email to my cousin, and the truth would be revealed.
“You, miss.” I point to the next interviewer.
“Thank you,” she says before clearing her throat. “What is Governor Kade’s plan for the extreme poverty in Mason County? Unemployment rates have increased by .3% in the past six months!”
I wince, knowing all too well I found Gray in that county. It didn’t used to be so bad. How the hell do I answer this? “I’m not privy to that information.”
“But it’s been hinted that you’ll be running in the next election!”
“Next question,” I bark, scanning the crowd, sweating through my shirt.
It goes on and on like this. Bearing the weight of my dad’s problems is something I’m all too familiar with, but the demands are increasing.
He’s never had me tackle the press while he hides away in the courthouse like a coward.
Usually, we do this shoulder-to-shoulder.
I can’t decide if he’s testing my mettle or abandoning me altogether.
The sickening part of it all is that I’m actively seeking his approval. I do my very best to ensure I don’t tarnish his reputation and answer all these questions to the best of my ability while keeping things civil—downright lying to save face.
O’Connell has been nothing but honest. There was nothing slanderous about what he said. My father is a fucking monster, and here I am, on my knees with my palms upturned just to get a crumb of his acknowledgment.
And for what ?
To say he loves me ? That I’m his son?
Four hours go by before my dad permits me to leave. I’m irritable, hungry, and want another shower. There’s a layer of filth clinging to me, and I know it’s all in my head, yet I can’t fight the urge to scratch my skin. I’m so uncomfortable I could scream.
Fishing out my cigarettes from my car, I pop one in my mouth while checking my phone.
Gray only responded to the text about the food, saying he had brought it in.
Alex, on the other hand, has texted twelve times.
Meetings are rolling in; someone fudged some paperwork granting us clearance for specific repair equipment.
We somehow lost half of one plane’s cargo.
It’s a fucking mess . He’s demanding I come into the office as soon as I can.
My gut twists uncomfortably, that dirty feeling intensifying the longer I stand here smoking.
“Damn it,” I growl, sending Gray a text that says I’m going to be later than expected and get in my car.
I was an idiot to think our ‘day off’ would be acceptable.
All of my responsibilities and burdens are piled a mile high. My life is one bright neon sign saying, ‘Pull your head out of the clouds.’
This delusion I’ve convinced myself is obtainable shatters at lightspeed. After I’m done with fixing the mess at my work, I’ll have to fix another one. Gray has to be safe—first and foremost—but he also needs to go.
There’s no place in my world for us.