Chapter Twenty-Eight
Grayson
Ijust kissed Laynie Adler.
After years of dreaming about this, countless sleepless nights and the hope slowly fading out the older we got, I finally kissed her.
And it was… awesome.
Brilliant. Amazing. Stupefying. Tremendous. Incredible.
I can’t wait to do it again. I’m already missing the feel of her lips on mine, that’s how much I crave them. And I was correct. They taste like berry lip balm, and it’s blissful.
“Gray…” Laynie whispers, slightly out of breath, and I can’t tell if it’s from the kiss that’s blown us away, or the baby. But either way, it makes my pulse jump.
Staring down into her crystal eyes, lined with mascara and a little bit of eyeliner, I cradle the back of her head as she peers up into my eyes, smiling like a kid on Christmas morning.
This is even better than Christmas morning.
“Yeah?” I answer roughly, my lungs stammering due to the loss of oxygen during the kiss.
Her throat works before her eyes close, and this feels just as intimate as kissing, having her connected in this way. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to do that.”
I sniff a laugh, my toes curling as my dimples deepen. “I think I have some idea.”
Blinking her eyes open, she smiles, her glossy lips calling my name once more. “But we can’t tell anyone.”
The lines in my forehead wrinkle against hers as I frown. What? “Why not?”
She exhales softly before her hands tighten at the bottom of my tee. “I’m still figuring this out, and—”
“What do you mean figuring this out?” My tone is louder than I expected.
“I mean, I’m having a baby.”
“I know.”
Laynie sighs, her face moving away, and I wish I could keep it in place. I hate the space she’s putting between us, her guard going up again.
“I don’t want people to talk,” she whispers. Her face pinches with guilt, and I feel my gut slowly unwind from the way it clenched when we kissed.
My head shakes. “They won’t talk.”
“They’re already talking. I’ve heard them around town.” Her chin dips, eyes focusing on her shoes as my heart continues to thunder. “They keep making up lies about me, and I don’t want to drag you into them.”
“You’re not dragging me into anything,” I insist, stepping closer to hold onto her elbows. “I promise you that you’re not.”
“But what if they say things about you? About us?”
“Let them.” I shrug. She swallows. “Let them say whatever they want. They already are, so what difference does it make?”
She lets out a sharp breath. “The difference is that those lies won’t be about only me. They’ll be about you, too, and your family.”
“Like your family isn’t being spoken about?”
“My family was the hot gossip topic twenty-five years ago,” Laynie states, sniffing loudly. I see moisture gleaning her eyes. “Mum was talked about when she became pregnant, and she had to deal with it. Then again when my dad walked in on the scene. It wasn’t fair on him.”
My head shakes. “It wasn’t fair on your mum, or on you, Laynie.”
“Exactly.” Her voice breaks a little, and I can see the slight tremble in her bottom lip. “Which is why I don’t want you to be brought into this, too. I can only imagine what they’ll start saying about you, and it won’t be fair.”
My fingers tug on my hair and she slips away, walking over to the tray of cupcakes she’s working on. My fingers curl into fists, jaw setting. Anger bubbles beneath my skin, the frustration nipping at me. “What if I want this?”
Halting her moments, Laynie tips her chin, giving me all her attention. My chest heaves as I move towards her, closing the gap, the energy electrifying as I grab a hold of her arms. “What if I don’t care about the gossip, the lies, because all I want is to be with you and your baby?”
Her mouth parts, pretty pink lips glistening. I glance at them for a beat as she stares at me like I just told her I planted a bomb in the fridge.
“Gray…” she breathes.
I continue, “I know you’re having someone else’s baby, and I know he told you he wants nothing to do with this, but does that mean you want to do this alone?”
She sniffs, not breaking eye contact.
“Is that what you want?” I repeat, desperate.
Blinking, her mouth parts again, and I feel the rush of coldness sweep over me as she whispers, “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” I grit out.
“I mean that I don’t know if it’s right.” I feel the figurative gut punch slam into me. “In a perfect world, I would want it to be us. You and me. But this isn’t a perfect world, Gray. It’s blemished. I blemished it when I slept with Scott.”
My jaw tightens at his name, my fingers squeezing. Laynie bites down on her lip.
“You didn’t blemish anything. It can still be you and me and your baby.”
That makes her flinch, and before I have time to backtrack, to figure out where I went wrong, she chokes out, “My baby.”
Crap.
“I mean—”
“It’s my baby, Gray, and I need to do what’s best for it.”
My throat is dry, and I try swallowing, but it does nothing to quench my thirst as I stare at her, hardly breathing. “What’s holding you back, Laynie?”
She sniffs, louder this time, and my heart sinks a little like it’s made of iron. “The fact that you still have the chance to have a normal life.” A tear slides down her cheek. “The chance to find someone, get married, then have a family. But me… I can’t do that. I’ll be coming with baggage.”
I reach out, my finger swiping to catch the rogue tear before it drops off her chin. Laynie doesn’t move. She just watches me as I wipe it away.
“But what if I want all of that?” I admit in a low, rough voice. “What if I don’t care about the baggage? Your dad didn’t.”
Hope springs to life in my chest, embedding itself deep in my bones like roots, but it dies instantly when she shakes her head, another tear releasing. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Why not?” the words snap from my mouth, my patience thinning.
She chokes on an inhale. “I can’t, Gray.” hiccup. “I need time to think about all of this. It’s very… abrupt.” Her shoulders shake, mouth trembling, hands vibrating, and I can sense it. The anxiety taking over her in the form of the monster she’s been fighting off for years.
Maybe this was too much for her to handle?
Maybe the thought of her finding something happy or having the chance to rewrite the wrong she made terrifies her.
But I’m going to remind her that she can defeat the monster.
That I will be right beside her when she realises that this is what I want. It’s what we both want.
Releasing a shaky breath, I nod, pulling her into an embrace. She shakes beneath me, her head probably spinning. I swear I feel her heart beating against my own as she lets out a sob.
“Okay,” I whisper, my hand stroking her hair as she cries against my neck. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be right here when you’re ready.”
I feel her nod against my throat, fingers wrapping in my shirt as she clings to me.
Her lifeline. Her best friend.