Chapter 13 #3
“I met Maverick when we were juniors in high school. I dropped some books, and he bent down to help me pick them up. He said when his hand brushed against mine, he fell head over heels in love. Right then and there,” Ella said, smiling almost wistfully as she shared the memory.
“Unfortunately, my family moved just before my senior year, but Maverick never forgot me.”
Edith took up the tale. “When I invited her to Gracemont for a visit, I had no idea I was righting a wrong, giving fate a little help.”
Manny chuckled. “Oh, Auntie. If it was between you and fate, I’d ask you for help. Better odds at getting what I want.”
No one in the room laughed or disagreed with that statement.
“You all really believe this?” Wren asked.
Everyone nodded.
“And the Storm men? They believe it too?” She couldn’t help but ask for the clarification, because she was curious if perhaps Grayson felt the same way these women did.
“Oh yeah. They’re all hardcore believers. Because it keeps happening,” Nora replied, sharing Levi and Kasi’s love-at-first-touch story. Apparently, Kasi was also a member of the book club, but her morning sickness wasn’t confined to the a.m. hours, so she’d been too nauseous to come tonight.
At the beginning of this conversation, Wren believed the other women were perhaps pulling her leg, but as they continued telling stories and giving truly romantic examples of this “love at first touch” legend, Wren couldn’t help but start believing it herself.
Which didn’t bode well for her.
Because she recalled the first time Grayson had touched her.
He’d sent that drunk asshole packing at the festival, and she’d stepped into his arms, his embrace making her feel truly safe for perhaps the first time since she was nine years old.
A strange awareness had coursed through her.
An impossible sense of recognition and home.
She’d felt it then, and every second she’d spent with him since had only strengthened that connection.
Her world had been tilted on its axis…but she didn’t think the same held true for Grayson.
Sure, he’d kissed her later that night and flirted the whole next day. But yesterday, when he caught her before she took a tumble off that stool in the library, it seemed obvious he hadn’t been…how had Gretchen described it? Struck by lightning?
Grayson had seemed completely unrattled when he released her and stepped away.
Just the fact that he could leave the library without a backward glance seemed to prove that whatever Wren was to him—and right now, she felt like the enemy—she definitely wasn’t his “one.” Because surely a man who’d experienced the kind of magic these ladies described couldn’t have walked away so easily.
Gretchen described it like a rubber band, claiming the undeniable pull she felt whenever she and Theo were apart was so strong, they had no choice but to snap back together.
Wren understood that, because she’d found herself waking up every morning these past few weeks desperate to see Grayson, to be near him.
On the too few days when he showed up at the library, she floated on air.
On days when she didn’t see him, she went to bed like someone with the flu, lethargic and almost depressed.
Grayson had become more than just a fascination or an anomaly to her. He’d become an obsession. He was all she could think about and, for the first time ever, she wasn’t repulsed by the thought of being touched. Instead, she craved it. Needed it.
Jesus, she needed it like air and water and…
She was screwed. Because even now, surrounded by Grayson’s family, her body was betraying her. She’d never really explored her own sexuality, not even through masturbation, but she was suddenly anxious to say her goodbyes and head home.
Not for sleep or to continue the pity party she’d been indulging in.
Nope.
Right now…she needed an orgasm.
Fortunately for her, the book they just read included a scene where Remi’s too-stupid-to-live heroine masturbated in the shower, giving herself an orgasm.
Since Wren didn’t own a single vibrator—something she’d learned tonight placed her in the minority, as the other women jokingly shared which of their sex toys was their favorite—she was going to have to make do with her fingers.
Well, her fingers and her memories and fantasies of one tall, dark, and handsome vintner.
Sadly, it appeared fantasies were all she was going to have of Grayson. Because while he was her person, she wasn’t his.
Which hurt even more than she’d expected. Far more.
Somewhere along the way, she’d stopped imagining what might happen between them and started hoping. No, more than that. She’d started believing and dreaming about her own happily ever after.
Now, that hope was shattered.
Wren forced a smile as laughter erupted around her. She had no idea what was so funny, as she’d stopped listening to the chatter, too lost in her own thoughts and pain.
No one seemed to notice her silence during the rest of the evening, which was probably for the best. If she opened her mouth, she might tell them the truth.
Tell them she’d found “the one.”
And that she’d lost him before she ever really had him.