Chapter 18
TJ
THAT KISS
The look that Grace is leveling on me tells me that even I might have been underestimating her.
She’s confident. She’s outgoing, and I know she doesn’t hold back.
But she just made a move on me and she’s not backing down.
Instead she's flipping the script on me. Now I’m the one on the spot, having to explain why I’m saying no to her.
Only in my wildest dreams did I ever let myself think she’d be interested in me. And now she’s the one looking at me like I’m some indecisive, immature fuck.
Clearly, I’m a dumbass.
“Yeah, I heard that little moan. And I can see it.” Her eyes drop to my waist. I suddenly realize my sweats are not doing me any favors right now hiding my throbbing dick. “So maybe if you get your brain, heart, and that on the same page, you’ll be a little more sure about what you want.”
Shit. That was harsh, but she’s not wrong. I’ve been internally denying this since we first met. I’m more than interested in her. I just don’t know how to sort this out. I meant it when I said it’s not that simple.
The idea of possibly loving anything ever again terrifies me.
She said I go with my feelings — my heart— and that’s the problem.
I’ve never been called to something like I am to her, except music.
She already feels like something that will consume me.
Hell. She already does. I can’t do anything without thinking about her.
What if I get burned out like I did with music and I wake up one day and that magic is just gone?
Or what if I’m wrong like I was with my ex?
My fears swirl in my head like a storm, making me feel a level of self doubt that I haven’t felt in ages.
I let out a long, labored breath, and look her in the eyes. Those gorgeous, deep green eyes pin me with a look of determination and frustration that no one ever shows me.
“I’m sorry, Grace. I don’t know what to say.”
Her nostrils flare in a long exhale. “You don’t have to say anything. We can just go back to being friends and collaborating. Pretend it never happened.”
I instantly hate those words ‘go back.’ I want this, but I’m too in my own head to think clearly. There’s also no way I will ever forget that kiss.
So I nod and turn to leave, but she grabs my wrist, forcing me to turn back to her.
“No, I’ll go. It’s your studio. Keep playing. And if you finally figure out what you want, you know where to find me.” She shrugs and I see the faintest hint of a smirk. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll still feel the same way.”
She loops the guitar strap over her head and hands it back to me.
I reach out to grab it from her, our fingers grazing on the neck of the guitar.
I feel that electric charge sizzle across my skin at the contact.
Her eyes meet mine one last time and I don’t miss how her teeth dig into her full, bottom lip.
Then she turns and walks out of my studio, closing the door behind her.
Just like that, in a matter of minutes, I went from having exactly what I wanted in my hands to finding myself alone with one thing, or more accurately, one person on my mind.
Damnit. I fucked this up.
“Why are you here?” Sutton looks at me from across the counter at Gloria’s while I try to enjoy my lunch. He points over his shoulder to the calendar hanging in the hall to the backroom. “You know it’s Friday, right? Our usual lunches are Saturday.”
I feel my shoulders slump. “Got it. Still not a safe space anymore.”
“Not when you’re in here moping like this for almost every meal.” His smug grin grows. “Do tell me, what ails the retired rockstar that has everything, so much so that he’s spent the last week and a half hiding at my tasting counter?”
I lower my eyes at him, which is hard because Sutton is taller than me. “You know, your cooking just keeps getting worse. I’m going to start worrying about the menu for the new restaurant if Slade lets you anywhere near it.”
“OK. Again, you, me, and your empty plate all know that’s a lie.
So are you going to tell me why you’re still here after you finished eating half an hour ago?
” he asks, looking as if he already knows the answer.
“You know, instead of at your house? That giant place you own, where you live? This wouldn’t have something to do with a certain tall woman living in her van in your driveway, would it? ”
I roll my eyes and groan, already knowing that he’s enjoying this way too much. “I think you alre—” I start, but my voice trails off when his eyes start tracking something over my shoulder.
I turn to see Kelsey from Cowgirl Coffee come in, carrying a large box of bagged coffee beans that she can hardly see over. Sutton practically leaps from behind the counter to go over to her.
“Here, let me get that,” he says, reaching toward her.
I assume she’s glaring back at him based on her tone when she replies. “No, thanks. I already got this far, scrawny arms.”
She breezes right past him, walking over to the counter and dropping the boxes in front of the espresso machine with a thud. “Here’s your weekly order, Chef,” she says, emphasizing the last syllable with a hiss.
Kelsey turns and finally notices me, a sweet smile gracing her face. “Oh, hey, TJ. Nice to see you.”
I nod, taking a sip of my water. “You too.”
Her smile fades as she walks right past Sutton, bumping her shoulder into his, leaving just as fast as she came in. I definitely notice the puppy dog look on his face as the door swings shut behind her.
He finally looks back at me, shaking his head.
I point at the door. “Alright. I’ll tell you my shit if you explain what the hell that was all about,” I get out through a grin.
He drops his chin, looking back and forth between his arms. “She called me scrawny,” he says, disbelief plastered on his face. “I spend more time in the gym than you.”
“Maybe it’s that stupid chef’s coat. You should try having it tailored.” It feels good to be giving him shit for once.
“Stop looking so pleased with yourself,” he says, glaring back at me. “And if you’re going to keep hiding here, let’s at least talk shop. You’re coming to Seattle for the party next week, right?”
Shit. I had blocked that out of my mind for a few days, but it’s coming up fast.
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” I look down at my empty plate, rearranging the remaining garnishes with my fork. “Grace is coming too.”
I look up to find him watching me with an amused grin.
“What?”
He shakes his head, pointing back at me. “I knew it! You’re hiding from her.” His shit-eating grin only widens.
I let out a long sigh. He’s right. I am, not that I’d admit it to him.
I know she said it’s not a big deal that we kissed, but I’ve felt like an ass since then.
Everything she said was right. I’m into her.
We’re both adults. It feels like something I shouldn’t say no to.
It feels like something I should at least take a chance on, but I still can’t get out of my own head.
I finally look back at Sutton. “Oh, so now you want to play bartender therapist? At least get me a beer or something.”
He throws his head back with his far too loud, booming laugh before turning to grab a beer from the under-counter fridge.
He pops the top and hands it to me. “Oh, this is too good,” he says, palming his face with a muffled laugh. “I’ve known you for years and I’ve never heard you even talk about a girl. Now she’s got you afraid to be at your own house. What happened?”
I take a sip of my beer, staring daggers at him.
“Less talking, got it.” He leans against the counter across from me, still looking far too please with himself. “Well, figure your shit out before Seattle. I’m not going to be your awkward third wheel buffer on the jet there. But if you ask me—”
“I’m not asking you,” I say dryly, cutting him off.
He just shrugs and continues anyway. “But if you did ask me, I’d say go for it, man.
If you’re this torn over her, you owe it to yourself to give it a shot.
” He smirks back at me before grabbing a bar towel and wiping down the counter.
“Either way, stop hiding here. Your moping ass is starting to scare off customers.”
Someone calls from the stock room and Sutton finally leaves me to my beer. Despite his razzing, I love him like a brother. He’s right though. I need to figure my shit out.
I’ve spent nearly every minute of the last two days replaying that kiss in my mind. I still can’t believe she leaned down and kissed me.
It was perfect.
I don’t know why I’m surprised by that. Everything about her makes my heart race.
Her smile, that laugh, the sparkle in her eyes when she’s about to do something impulsive.
I haven’t been able to get it out of my head and it’s nearly driven me mad.
Thinking of the sounds she made makes my dick inconveniently hard way too often.
If I could go back in time, I’d have told her to stay and talk through this with her.
Sutton isn’t the only one who’s right. She was too. She said I don’t hold back and, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, she’d be right.
If I want any real shot with her, I need to be myself. The real version of me. The one that apparently Grace Chapman is into.