Chapter 21 #2
“You’re fire, sweetheart, and I’m the accelerant.
We’ve been tempting and teasing each other, too afraid of the flames, but from destruction, new life will always bloom.
Instead of fighting our natural inclination, it’s time to give them a taste of it, show them what it means to be engulfed by…
” He waits until I face him head-on. “Love.”
“You want to burn them with the intensity of our hatred for each other.”
He laughs, and I feel it deep in my gut. “Love and hate are as fickle as flipping a coin. No one side is right, but how it lands dictates your path forward.”
The cart stops at the next hole, and we’re immediately surrounded by people, but this time, his friend Roman and three other men with more muscles than good sense push the crowd back while we reopen the drink coolers.
“What’s his deal?” I ask, indicating Roman.
Grey frowns for half a second, then it’s as though he makes a decision, and the lines of his face relax. “A new friend, I think.”
“Huh. I thought you were allergic to those.”
“I am. Or…” That line is back between his brows, and guilt licks at my spine for teasing him. “Maybe I was. We grow and adapt, or we die, and my time isn’t up yet. You ready for this?” He opens the windows to the bar cart and expertly arranges cans.
“As ready as I c—” Greyson’s lips devour mine, and cameras click like crickets on a silent night. I attempt to pull away, but he tugs me closer on a groan I feel all the way to my core.
“Let me in, Monroe.” His words ghost atop my lips, and when I suck in a breath, he tastes me like a starving man.
With tongue and teeth colliding, he masters my mouth as if he’s truly in control of the universe.
And by the time he sets me back on my feet, my cheeks are red, my lungs are heaving, and my head is a mess of contradictions.
Turning to the crowd, he displays a dazzling grin. “My fiancée and I are a bit competitive, so we’ve decided to turn this into a game—for charity, of course.”
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
“We’ll answer a question for every beverage purchased.”
“Grey.” I tug on the back of his shirt, and he simply reaches around to take my hand in his.
“We’ll be keeping score. We’ll get a point for every question answered, and we lose a point for each one we skip.”
“Grey.” I squeeze his hand with all my strength, and it barely fazes him. “This is a terrible idea.”
“The winner of our friendly competition will donate one million dollars to today’s event.”
That smug bastard. I barely have four thousand dollars in the bank, and he likely knows this, but it kicks off a line of questioning I’m sure he was expecting.
“Do you have a million dollars, Savannah?”
“It’s Savvy,” I grumble.
“What’s mine is hers, so yes, she does. Oh, would you look at that? Point for me.”
Quinn pushes through the crowd, producing an A-frame whiteboard with Grey’s name in black and mine in red. She draws a single line under his name.
I knew she wasn’t on my side.
“What did you do? Text her?”
“I’m always prepared, sweetheart.” He leans in and wraps me in a hug.
To our audience, it’s a loving embrace, but then he whispers in my ear, and I know I’m going to regret this entire day.
“How about a…private wager?” I don’t respond, so he continues.
“If I win, you’ll get on your knees for me like the sexy little submissive I know you to be. ”
“And when I win?” Did I just growl?
“If you win—”
“When I win, you’ll do whatever I say.”
“In the bedroom,” he’s quick to add.
“Deal.”
“Jesus Christ. You two are trouble.” His new friend Roman grins.
Ugh, did he just hear that entire conversation?
He winks, and my face goes up in flames. Guess that answers my question.
“N—next,” I say to the crowd. A twenty-something with long, greasy hair and the worst excuse for golf attire I’ve ever seen steps forward.
Roman glares at him but nods for him to continue. When did Roman become master of ceremonies?
The kid hands Grey a twenty-dollar bill. Grey makes change and hands him a root beer.
“How old were you when you first met Riley DeVane?” the kid asks, and my world tilts in a barrage of colors I’m unprepared for.
“She was underage, and therefore unable to speak to anything that may be considered a crime or is currently sealed in court documents.” Grey turns to me with a predatory smile. “Point for me.”
Motherfucker. He’s got me two to zilch.
“You.” Roman points to a woman with pink hair.
“How did you two get together?” she asks, shoving a credit card into Grey’s hand.
“That’s an easy one,” I say, giving myself time to come up with something because saying we stripped each other naked after a knock-down, drag-out fight is probably not the story we want to spread.
“From the moment Grey stepped into Happiness, he hasn’t been able to keep his hands off me.
” I flash the man in question my most dazzling smile.
“Shocking, right? Greyson isn’t known to be overly demonstrative, but he saw me and wasn’t backing down until he got me.
Of course, I hated him at first. He’s arrogant and pushy. ”
He flinches, and guilt sinks it’s claws back into my throat.
“But he’s also kind and…loyal. It just took peeling back a few layers to see that at first.”
The side of my face burns with the heat of his stare. When our eyes connect, the inferno of us licks like blue flames in his irises.
“All true,” he says. “Point for Savvy.”
“Next,” Roman calls out, interrupting our moment. “You have to buy a drink to ask a question.”
Focusing on what’s happening in front of us, I pull my shoulders back when I recognize the next guy as someone who harassed Madi when we were young adults—Jackson Witherby. He’s a weaselly little shit and always has been.
The weasel slips money into my palm, and its damp, as though even his hands are overly sweaty. Gross.
“Rumor has it the Wells family and the DeVane family have a sordid past—”
“We don’t answer to rumors,” I say, interrupting him. “Nor do we answer questions that don’t pertain to us. Next.”
Grey raises his brow in my direction but says nothing.
“Hey, I paid for my drink.”
Greyson hands him a Budweiser, the least expensive option we carry, but otherwise ignores him.
“I didn’t get to ask my question,” he whines.
“Time is money, Mr. Witherby,” I say. “I suggest next go around, you ask an actual question without a lead-in shrouded in rumor.” Dang, that felt good.
“Point for Savvy.” Grey looks…proud.
“Savvy, Sunshine Studios has tanked in recent weeks. Are you concerned about your past hurting Greyson’s new business venture?”
“Savvy’s podcast is still number one on the charts. We aren’t concerned about anything there,” Grey says smoothly.
But my skin itches.
A middle-aged man wearing a light pink polo raises his hand, then steps forward when Roman calls on him.
He’s vaguely familiar, but I can’t place him.
He hands Grey some money but refuses a beverage.
“How do you think the victim of your poor choices feels, watching you parade your life in front of the cameras while she sits in her childhood bedroom, dreaming of what could have been?”
Camera flashes blind me. It’s as though every person here has suddenly turned their camera on me, and Grey slips his hand into mine.
“As I said,” Grey’s voice is a rumble, but I squeeze his hand to cut him off.
Elle’s advice to get ahead of my story sings in my head.
Swallowing hard, I don’t hide the emotion on my face.
“I will always regret the choices I made as a young girl.” My voice is steady and smooth, but my insides tremble violently. “I haven’t been able to see my childhood friend since the accident, though I’ve tried.”
I make eye contact with as many people as I can.
“You want a headline, but the truth is, I trusted the wrong person when I was no more than a child, and I lost one of the most important people in my life. But don’t think for one moment that she doesn’t exist in my heart every single day.
I’m the one who was forced into that car without my consent.
I wasn’t the one driving, but I will always carry the guilt of what being my friend cost Paige. ”
The man opens his mouth for a follow-up question, but Grey interrupts him. “We need to move to the next hole.”
With my hand securely in his, he leads me to the passenger seat while Roman secures the beverages.
A moment later, Grey slips in beside me, holds my hand in his, and whisks me away.
“You won that game,” he says calmly.
My head swivels toward him, but he stares straight ahead.
“I can’t wait to see what you do to me.” Dark promises linger on every syllable he speaks.
I try to pull my hand from his, but he squeezes harder.
“I thought you said we were done with the physical aspect of our…whatever this is,” I challenge.
A smile tugs at his lips. “I said it was over when we were enemies. Now you’re to be my wife, so we have new rules to set.
I still possess willpower that you don’t.
However, you won, and I don’t go back on my word.
Plus.” He lifts our joined hands and kisses the inside of my wrist. “I’m curious to see what you’ll come up with. ”
Sitting back in my seat, I bite my cheek. Anything I say now would give him the upper hand. I’m pretty sure this jerk just cheated his way back into my panties.