Chapter 18 Gracie Mae
Gracie Mae
Fantasy was busy.
Which was great for me because I ended up making more on the stage then I would've as being a barmaid.
I got off at one in the morning and the drive from the strip club to the new home is about twenty minutes. Not bad but after a late night I can feel the heaviness in my eyes.
Honestly, all I want now is a nice hot shower and to snuggle up in the awesome four poster bed Vipers MC gifted me.
When I saw it I nearly freaked because I had never once owned a bed that big or beautiful.
The queen sized four poster bed mainly takes up the master bedroom but I don't care. It's too comfortable to ever part with.
As I make the final turn in the neighborhood that leads to my street I'm already imagining myself cuddled in blankets.
But as I come to my driveway my headlights flash on a way too familiar Harley Davidson motorcycle.
My heart beats fast like a humming birds wings. I blink my eyes a couple of times to make sure what I am saying isn't an illusion, but after slowly pulling in my driveway I come parked behind the beautiful gauntlet grey metallic bike.
Suddenly wide awake I turn off my car, grab my purse, and shut the door behind me before locking it up.
As I walk by the bike reality settles in that I am not imagining things.
He's here.
Under the porch light, sitting on the cement front steps with his head hung low and his arms folded on his knees is him.
Oak's here.
Ever since I have given him that ultimatum last week I have hardly heard from him. I don't know whether I have forced him to retreat and put more armor on or made him give up the fight completely.
And I wanted to give into him.
But I couldn't do that.
As much as I want Oak, more than I have ever wanted a man, I also want us to be so much more than our physical connection.
I can fight for him all that I want, but if he keeps deciding to fight against me this war will never end.
And I desperately want this war to end.
My breath catches in my throat as my heart beats faster.
I want to ask him a million questions.
I want to ask him why he pulled away from his brothers.
I want to ask him why he's pulled away from me.
I want to ask him if he's figured out what he wants.
So many questions yet the only thing that comes out of my mouth on a breath is his name. "Oak."
His head snaps up and his ice blue eyes meet mine. I almost cry out from the sight of them. A hollow loneliness I've never seen so blatantly in his eyes before.
I instantly want to wrap him in my arms and console him. To whisper in his ear that he's not alone, and that he never will be.
But I stop myself.
Instead I take the few steps closer to him to get a better look at the broken man who sits on my porch steps.
"I didn't," he begins, his voice filled with pain, "I didn't know where else to go." His eyes bleed torment, and my heart bleeds for him.
With a gentle voice I then ask, "So you came all the way here? Finding yourself in Hollows Point?"
"No," he shakes his head, "I found my way to you."
My breath catches again as the strings on my heart pull.
He then rises from the porch steps but keeps himself distant from me. I want to close the gap but I'm afraid he won't let me come close. He's been keeping me at a distance all week, and I don't know what to say or do to break it.
"How long have you been sitting there?"
He swallows thickly. His finger taps on the outside of his thigh. "Not long."
I raise a brow. "That's not an answer."
"Three hours."
My eyes go wide. "Weren't you uncomfortable?"
He shakes his head once. "I've been in more uncomfortable positions."
I nod my head because I don't know what to say to that. “Why didn't you stop by Fantasy?"
"Because I didn't want to bother you at work," he says softly. "And at your own place you can send me away if you want to."
I take a step closer to him but it physically pains me when he takes a sharp step back.
Fuck.
"I would never send you away, Oak," I promise him.
He smiles thinly. Eyes casting away from mine as if he doesn't believe me.
"Please, come in," I'm all but begging as I yearn to be closer to him once again. "I'll even make you a cup of coffee."
He laughs but it's choked. "At nearly two in the morning?"
"It can be decaf," I offer.
He nods his head once and I feel as if I just won a small battle.
With my victory I take my key and open the front door. I leave it open behind me for him to follow.
Once I hear the door shut behind me I let out a breath of relief. I then walk through the family room and deposit my purse on the coffee table. I then drop my keys in the bowl on the island once I enter the kitchen.
I hear Oak following behind me but his steps are hesitant.
It breaks my heart further.
We never used to be like this.
There's tension in the air but not charged with the electricity we used to have.
It's strained, and I fucking hate it.
I try to make causal conversation, something I've never had to do with him, as I begin to make him a pot of coffee. "How have you been?"
I hear the stool being moved across the floor, and as I turn I see his big frame sitting on the small thing. His eyes meet mine for a second before he looks behind me. "I've been thinking," he responds vaguely. And it has me wondering if all I will receive is vague answers tonight.
I bite down on my lower lip and nod my head. I turn my back to him as I ask over my shoulder, "And what have you been thinking about?"
His voice is gruff as he responds with another vague answer, "A lot of things."
Why do I feel as if my heart is deflating like a balloon?
I keep my tone light and soft. "Care to tell me about one?"
He sighs, a heavy pained sigh that I can tell he's kept inside waiting to be released.
While the coffee is brewing I turn back to face him.
He looks so fucking exhausted. As if he hasn't slept in days. And yet still he's the most handsome man that has ever walked upon the earth.
Although an awkward tension that is strained lingers in the air between us it doesn't stop the magnetic pull that has me drawing closer to him.
I stop on the other side of the island, and I feel so close yet so far.
"Oak?"
He runs his hand through his unkept hair and looks at me with the most painful eyes I have ever seen. God, someone can drown in the loneliness there.
"I've been thinking about what you said to me," he finally gives me an answer.
My heart inflates, beating with anxiousness and a small twinge of hope despite it all. "You have?"
He swallows, his eyes averting mine once again. It's the tap of his fingers on the island and the restlessness bouncing of his leg that indicates just how nervous he is.
For a man who is always in control, and is famous for his stoic expression, it's disconcerting to see him unraveled.
"My past isn't something I can get rid of, Gracie Mae. It's not that easy," his voice breaks at the end.
"I never said for you to get rid of it, Oak. I just want you to stop living in it," I desperately tell him. "There's no life for you there. Can't you see that?"
He screws his eyes shut as he swallows thickly. When he opens them I'm paralyzed by the sight. "What I can see and what I want are entirely two different things."
"Then what do you want?"
His eyes flash at mine. "You know what I want."
"Then tell me. Tell me and we can have it." My hand reaches across the island to connect with his but he pulls away from me completely. He jolts up from the stool and walks into the family room.
I follow him there, my steps a soft whisper against the floor but my heart beats so loud I'm afraid the entire world can hear it.
He stands in the middle of the family room, his shoulders sagged in defeat, his eyes filled with pain, and looking so lost.
I ache to wrap him in my arms.
"I've been burned before, and I've lost too many people that I've cared deeply for," he gruffly tells me. It's the first glimpses of his past that he's allowed me to see.
"We've all been burned in one way or another," I reply softly.
His eyes, an ice blue flash at mine intensely. "Don't you not want to feel that way again?"
"It's inevitable. We can't pass this life without feeling it. If you're lucky it only happens once but I don't think anyone is that lucky."
"Not even you?"
I shake my head, a sad smile on my lips. "Not even me."
"Then how do you recover from it?"
"Day by day. It's naive to think that wounds can heal perfectly. There will always be a scar left behind. But the important part to remember is that those scars don't define you."
"And what if they do?" He pauses, his voice showing a vulnerability I've never heard from him before. "What then?"
I dare to take a step closer to him. I'm immediately swept with relief when he doesn't take one back. So I take another, and then another until I'm in front of him. Being brave I lay a gentle hand on his broad muscled chest, right above his heart.
His eyes flick down to my hand with uncertainty but when they meet mine I see turmoil. "Then it means you're not letting them heal."
He swallows thickly.
I hold in a breath as he brings his hand up to my face. With gentle fingers he tucks a loose strand behind my ear.
My heart bangs against the cavity of my ribs.
"What if they can't heal? What then?" He sounds so tortured. And I want nothing more than to pull him in my arms and comfort him.
I release a shocked breath when his rough big hand palms my face.
Instinctively I lean into his touch. Thousands of sparks light up inside of me.
A simple caress and I come alive. And I realize he's the only person who can get such a reaction out of me.
I've never felt like this with any of the men I've been with before.
And the worst part is I feel everything with him and he's too scared to feel everything with me.
"They can heal, Oak. You just have to be brave enough to take the first step.
" My voice is soft, too soft to where it comes out as barely a whisper.
He hears me though. He hears me because he notices everything about me.
His eyes always follow me wherever I go.
If I smile it looks like he's taking a mental image.
If I frown he tries to figure out why. When I talk he always listens with an attentive ear.
And whenever I truly need him he's always there.
His thumb swipes along my jawline. The sweet touch sending goosebumps across my skin. When his thumb grazes my bottom lip I release a shaky breath. A shiver runs down my spine and my eyes widen.
"What is the first step?" He asks roughly. His thumb grazes my lip again. My heart beats like a hammer. Then his thumb presses lightly on the middle of my bottom lip.
I wait for him to remove it before I answer him but as another moment passes between us I see that he has no inclination of removing it.
Collecting myself the best that I can I finally answer him. "You let someone in."
"Who do I let in?"
This time I swallow. I want to scream at him from the top of my lungs me.
I want you to let me in!
I want you to choose me!
"Anyone you want."
He breathes and it feels as if he is breathing me in.
Icy blue eyes begin to melt. The walls around his heart knocking down. The last of his armor falling to pieces on the ground. "Even you?"
Hope blossoms within me. "Even me."
His eyes flick down to my lips and then meet mine once again. There's a fire burning there, taking place of the glaciers.
He pulls me closer to him with a firm hand on my hip. His touch igniting more sparks.
I'm flush against him. Not a slither of space between us yet somehow I want to find a way to be closer.
"Then I guess I'm ready to take that first step."
"You guess?" I need to know if he is feeling this the same way that I am. He needs to be sure because lord knows I'm already head sinking underwater.
His hand moves from my hip to the small of my back. The tips of his fingers brushing the top of my jean clad ass. "I'm ready on one condition."
I smile. If he only knew that I would give him anything if he just asked. "I'm all ears."
"You have to be my person."
"Your person," I tease with my eyebrow raised.
A smile adorns his face. My god, what a beautiful sight. It should be a crime for this man not to smile. It's absolutely breathtaking.
"Yes. My person. Because if I let you in, Gracie Mae," he pauses trying to find the right words, "If I let you in then I won't let you out."
"Then, Ethan," I begin, using his real name to show just what this means. That the walls around his heart must come down. Otherwise I won't survive him. "I'm your person."
Bending at the knee he picks me up with one strong arm and my legs wrap around his hips. My arms loop around his neck bringing him closer to me.
He brings his forehead down to rest on mine. His breath, mint mixed with hints of liquor fans my face. His eyes are focused on my lips and I'm dying for him to take a taste.
I lick my bottom lip and his eyes follow the motion hungrily.
God, that alone is making my blood run hot.
Tilting my head back my nose glides along his. My mouth is so close to touching his but not quite. "If you're going to let me in," I start, my voice a seductive purr, "then you must call me Grace."
His mouth twitches to a small smile. One side of his lips turning upwards. Amusement lights his eyes. His hands underneath of my thighs move higher to where they're positioned right below my ass.
I'm starting to think he's an ass man.
"I thought Grace was for friends and family only."
I raise a brow. "Do you not want to be my friend?"
"No," he breathes.
My fingers creep up the back of his neck and tug on his short kept hair. His eyes flash with desire. A reflection of my own.
My lips brush against his as I ask, "Then what do you want to be?"
He doesn't answer me. Not that I expect him to. After all, Oak is a man of action rather than words. And I expect no different when it comes to me.
As we wait in the silence together I'm beginning to think that maybe he'll do nothing at all. But then he closes the distance and his lips capture mine.