Chapter 22 - Grant
“Got a minute for a beer?” I turn to Mike as Ben leaves the restaurant. With the current Troubadours roster, we’re in a solid spot for the post season run and have some available options to call up if needed.
“Day drinking?” Mike lifts a brow but follows me over to the bar.
“Could use it after this morning.” I can’t stop thinking about Taylor in the bath, and I can’t stop berating myself for giving into the temptation of her.
“What’s got you so wound up?” Mike asks, after we order two beers and I still don’t speak.
“Taylor.”
“What happened?”
“I convinced her to move in with me.”
His brows hit his hairline, and he chokes on his beer. “Sorry, wasn’t expecting that. Seems to me that would be a good thing.”
“We crossed a line.”
You’d think after the orgasm this morning I’d be more relaxed but no, it feels like I’m even more worked up.
“Why do you have that sour look on your face?”
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I let out a sigh. “Man, I don’t know. In the moment, it felt right, but thinking about it now, it was a step too far. I’m trying to get her to fall back in love with me. Sex was supposed to be off the table.”
“And you’ve got it in your head that being physical with her means she won’t fall in love with you but your magical dick instead?”
“Mike,” I groan and chug half my beer.
“What?” He laughs. “You’re the one acting like sex and love are not mutually exclusive. Hate to break it to ya, they’re not always connected.”
“It’s not that. I know they’re not. It’s just that if we get caught up in the sex of it all, what happens when she’s done with this event for the organization and there’s nothing left to keep her here?”
“You. You keep her here.”
“What if it’s not enough?”
He claps his hand on my shoulder. “That fear is going to be there whether you sleep with her or not.”
“I know. I thought by challenging her to move in with me it would be a chance for us to rekindle what broke. To give us a shot without her consciously realizing that’s what we were doing. It all made sense in my mind.”
“Have you told her this?”
“Kinda. I didn’t want to spook her and make her run.”
“Taylor Baker doesn’t spook easily. Give her more credit than that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that girl back down.”
I smile at that. Her determination and general don’t-give-a-fuck attitude is one of the things I love about her.
“She told me about Ivory being her first client and breaking out on her own. I never had any doubt she’d go far. I’m proud of her. I don’t want her to feel like she needs to choose between her career and me.”
At the end of the day, that’s what keeps me up at night. When given that choice before, I didn’t stand a chance.
“Keep showing up,” Mike says. “Make her realize that she doesn’t have to choose.”
“I’m trying. I’ve been subtly dating my wife for a couple weeks, and this week I’ve been taking care of her. She hasn’t been feeling well.”
“Those small steps will add up. Have a little faith, Grant.”
“Yeah.”
“For the record, if she did choose. I think she’d choose you. You’re in different situations than you were before. But, Grant, if you’re going to make this work, you can’t hold back. It’s all or nothing.”
He’s right. I can’t give Taylor half of me.
“Has anyone ever told you that it’s kind of annoying how good you are at this advice thing?”
“I’ve had enough practice over the years. You lot are a bunch of overgrown children,” he grumbles, but I know he loves every second of coaching and all that comes with it.
“Since you’re sitting here handing out words of wisdom, what makes you think she’d choose me?”
He assesses me carefully. “What are you really after?”
I rub a hand over my heart, letting out a deep breath. “A little reassurance would be nice. It’s hard to not feel like it’s all in my head, or that the memory of us is coloring how I’m currently viewing our situation.”
“It’s not in your head. You two are like magnets when you’re in the same room. She looks at you the same way you look at her.”
“Like she’s my whole world?”
He eyes me. “Something like that.”
“Thanks, Mike. Really appreciate everything you’ve done for me over the years, especially strong-arming me into a move to Nashville.”
“Don’t waste this opportunity, Grant. It won’t come back again.” Mike slaps me on the back, signaling the end of the conversation before walking out and leaving me at the bar with my thoughts.
Having Taylor in my life again—in my home—making a home with her even if we aren’t consciously doing it, has me wishing for more.
I don’t want to waste it.
I don’t want to take any of it for granted.
I don’t want to hold back anymore.
She’s what I want. Who I want.
Maybe it’s time I stop depriving us both and give in to the temptation.
Maybe that’s the only way she’ll truly be mine again.
When I get home, the penthouse is quiet.
Taylor’s keys are in the bowl by the door and her purse is on the hook, so I know she’s already back from Ivory’s, which seems early considering it’s mid-afternoon.
I figured she would stay over there all day.
Searching her out, I find the door to her bedroom ajar and see her curled up on the bed.
My feet move toward the bed without conscious thought.
I slide my shoes off and carefully sit on the bed. When she doesn’t move, I crawl in behind her, pulling her back to my front. All the tension, what ifs, and worries fade away as I breathe in her botanical shampoo. She snuggles back into me and I fade into a dreamless sleep.