Chapter 47
SELENA
“There’s a heavy ass box for you at the door.”
I blink, surprised, and look up from the quesadillas I’m making towards Jess walking into the apartment. “For me?”
“You’re not supposed to be cooking! Where’s Grayson?”
“Dude,” I glare at her. “I’m fine! I practiced with you girls yesterday, remember?”
After days of doing nothing but resting, the doctor cleared me to go to class.
The headaches are gone, there’s no dizziness or pain.
It’s been a little over a week since the concussion and I feel good, like I did before that game.
I was even able to do non-contact drills with the team yesterday.
Through it all, Grayson hasn’t left my side.
“And what do you mean, where’s Grayson?” I ask anyway.
“Mira guey,” she laughs, smiling brightly. “He’s always here!”
He is. Honestly, I like that he is.
“I made him go to class.” He’s missed as many days as I have.
Jess takes one of the quesadillas I place on a plate for her. “Have you guys talked?”
I sigh. “Not yet.” I don’t even know what to say. I tried talking to him that first night, after we left the hospital, but he insisted I rest. “Everything else can wait,” he said.
By the time we got to my apartment, I was in a lot of pain. My brain is pounding against my skull. And I could feel the stitches along my temple throbbing.
Grayson parked the car and ran to open my door. He helped me out like I was fragile and would break.
“I’ll carry you up,” he stated.
Annoyed that this was happening, I pushed him away. I don’t like having to rely on other people.
“I’m good,” I argued even though I wasn’t.
“Alvarez—”
“Fine,” I cut him off, but only because my vision started to go blurry. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the concussion or the fact I was about to cry.
He lifted me with ease, carrying me bridal style up the stairs. Instead of his usual two-step climb, he took them one at a time. Before I knew it, I was in my room, on my bed.
The rest of the night was a blur. Jess, Letty, and Sammy took turns asking if I needed anything.
Trevor and Troy fell asleep on the couch.
Grayson never left my side. He checked my temperature, gave me sips of water, and made sure I stayed awake until after the 4-hour time frame the doctor suggested.
Throughout the night, he woke me up every two hours to make sure I could be woken up. He sat at my desk the whole time until morning. Each time I fell asleep, I knew I would be okay because he was there with me.
Sometime the next day, I woke up drowsy. I blinked, squinting at the sunlight streaming into my room and wondered how late or early it was. Sammy and Grayson were standing near the door, carrying on a conversation in hushed voices.
“You never said anything. Not a word,” Sammy hissed.
“There was nothing to say.” Grayson’s reply was barely above a whisper.
“Does she know?”
“No.”
Know what? I wanted to ask but my mouth was dry. So was my throat. When I tried to sit up, Grayson was there to assist.
“How do you feel?” he asked, placing pillows behind my back.
“A little groggy, but the headache’s mostly gone.”
“Hermanita!”
“Hey, Sammy.” I smiled at my brother. When I did, the tape securing the gauze over the stitches along my temple, crinkled and tugged on my skin. “What were you guys talking about?”
I don’t miss the way they exchanged a worried glance.
“Oh I forgot, mom and dad want a pic,” Sammy said at the same time Grayson asked, “Are you hungry?”
“So neither one of you is going to tell me?”
I was pretty sure they were talking about me, but no one was confirming or denying anything. When Grayson sat on the edge of my bed, I watched him run a hand through his hair. He was nervous. But why?
“We’ll talk when you’re feeling better,” Grayson assured me, his blue eyes meeting mine. “Right now you should focus on rest and recovery. Everything else can wait.”
Didn’t matter how many dirty looks I sent his way or how often I asked, his answer was the same. My sour mood didn’t deter him from helping me though.
That first day he stay with me, he canceled practice to do so. The guys all texted their shock and appreciation.
He washed my sheets since I slept in them while wearing my game jersey. He made breakfast, bought lunch, and burned dinner.
When I was talking to Jess and mentioned that a churro from the little bakery on Adams and Trinity sounded really good, Grayson drove over to get some. He also brought an iced vanilla latte with oat milk.
A few days later, the doctor cleared me for light exercises. Exhaustion wasn’t weighing down my limbs anymore, so Grayson walked around the block with me. He also drove me to Gibson House so I could use the stationary bike in their weight room.
The following evening, he bought Blurred Boundaries. It’s the second book in the series, following Forced Entanglement. He read it to me while Jess was at practice and Letty was at work. I fell asleep listening to his smooth baritone.
When I woke up it was dark out. We were on my bed. The book was open to the last page he read, lying on Grayson’s chest. My leg was thrown over his thigh and his hand was hooked around my knee.
It wasn’t sexual. I wish it had been. He got up, excused himself for falling asleep, then left my bed. Most nights he slept out on the couch and kept a respectful distance during the day.
We’d been alone more times this week than in the four years I’ve known him, but there was nothing inappropriate about his behavior. Even when I leaned into him, or placed my hand on his arm or his thigh, he remained strictly professional. I couldn’t wait for the doctor to clear me.
“So, what’s in the box?”
Jess’s question brings me out of my thoughts.
“You sure it’s for me?” I ask, but I’m afraid it might be.
“It has your name on it. Que ordenaste?”
“Nada,” I reply, because I didn’t order anything.
Curious, I walk over to the front door. The box is too heavy to move, let alone lift, and I mentally apologize to whatever poor delivery person had to carry this up two flights of stairs.
Jess doesn’t let me help as she drags, pushes, and shoves the box into our apartment. I open it and we stare at a whole bunch of books.
Jess starts digging through the box. She holds a book in each hand and smiles at me. “Pinche cabrona! It’s about damn time!”
“What?” The books, her words, none of it makes sense. “What do you mean?”
“These are all the ones you’re missing.”
I stare at the two books she holds in her hand, then at the ones she’s pulling out of the box. Jess stacks them on the floor.
I pick up a couple closest to me: Pucking His Wife and then Pucking the Enemy. These are books two and three in the Pucking Series. Book four comes out next week.
“You seriously didn’t order these?” Jess asks.
I shake my head no. She knows about my tight budget. She knows I don’t splurge on books no matter how much I want to. The truth is I can’t afford to.
I return to the box and spot another sequel I’m missing. When I look up at my bookshelves, two things become clear. One, I know what other books are in this huge box, and two, I know who sent it.
I grab my phone and start texting.
Selena
I can’t accept this
Grayson
Good afternoon Grayson, it’s Selena, how are you? When are you coming home?
Home. An unmistakable warmth envelops me when I read his words.
Selena
yeah I’m not texting all that
anyway, where did you order these books from so I can return them?
Grayson
What books?
Those two words stop me cold.
Oh no, why did I think it was a gift from him? Obviously he has no idea what I’m talking about!
Selena
someone had a huge box of books delivered to my apartment
I hit send and wait for his reply. I keep waiting. There’s nothing. Not even the three little dots at the bottom.
Maybe they’re not from him after all...
Selena
since it wasn’t you then forget I said anything
I put my phone away, decide I’ll be mortified later when it sinks in what I just did, and stare at the box. There’s no logos, no address besides mine.
“Did you figure out who sent them?” Jess asks. By now she’s showered and changed out of her work clothes into her party clothes. Tonight that includes a black lace top paired with black leather pants and red heels.
I shake my head. “I have no idea.”
“So keep them! Someone obviously wanted you to have these books. I say, disfrútalos!” She shoves two quesadillas into her mouth. “You sure you don’t wanna go out tonight? We’re going to the new jazz club on 2nd Ave. You don’t even have to dance.”
“Who’s we?”
“Everyone from work.”
“All the theater kids?”
“Yup. Turns out they’re really nice.”
It only took her two years to reach this conclusion. Up until last week she said they were ‘full of shit’.
“Wait, is Grayson coming back tonight?”
I don’t know for sure. “If I was cleared for practice, I can be home alone, dork.”
“Did you have any kind of headache today?”
“Nope.”
“Felt dizzy?”
“Nope.”
“Did you eat?”
I point at my plate of quesadillas.
“Seriously Jess, I’m okay,” I smirk. “Go out with the theater kids and have fun.”
“Okay, but text me if anything comes up!”
“I will. Cuídate!” I tell her.
She would normally hug and kiss my head, but right now she just blows a kiss. “Tu tambien cuídate! Love you!” And she’s gone.
Not a minute later, there’s a knock at the door. I laugh because I’m pretty sure Jess came back for more quesadillas. But when I open it, it’s not Jess, it’s Grayson.
He’s standing at my door wearing a fitted white T-shirt, gray sweats, a green Lions baseball hat, and his backpack slung over one shoulder.
“Hey.”
He walks in past me.
“Heard you got some new books,” he smirks and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling at him. “Figured I’d come over to help you organize them.”
I’m left speechless as I watch him lift the box with such ease it’s laughable. It’s as though it weighs nothing in his muscle-y arms.
He moves with hypnotic grace across my small living room to place the huge, heavy box next to my bookshelves. When his eyes meet mine, he smiles, dimples and all.
I’m staring, possibly drooling. Why does he have to look so good?
“Did you leave practice early again?” I ask.
For a second, he looks like he’s trying to think of a good excuse, but ends up deciding against it.
“I did,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck, looking adorably sheepish. “But only by thirty minutes. So,” he grabs a stack of books from the box, “where do we start?”
GRAYSON
Selena looks annoyed as she takes the books I’m holding away from me. They go back in the box.
This is bad. Really fucking bad. She looks adorable and I’m barely holding myself back from kissing her.
Selena’s standing by her bookcase, most likely debating if she should accept the books she really wants or refuse them on principle.
“In case you’re wondering, they can’t be returned,” I lie.
“What?” She looks at me over her shoulder.
Her whole body is turned away, arms crossed over her chest, trying to keep me out.
Don’t think she knows how good she looks from every angle.
Her sweet ass and thick thighs are on full display right now in those little shorts.
My smirk turns into something else, something there’s no place for right now.
“It’s true,” I say simply. I’m smiling wide and I can’t stop.
She spins to face me fully. I’m gifted the view of her tits squeezed together, that little waist I want to hold onto, and those deliciously rounded hips I want to grab.
And her fucking face. Fuck she’s beautiful.
Even that faded bruise and small bandage can’t change that.
But, I remind myself, she’s recovering. This is not the time for any strenuous activity.
“That’s okay,” she gives me a tiny smile and says, “Maybe we can donate them. To the library maybe?”
And her heart. My girl has the biggest, most selfless heart.
“They’re yours,” I say, stepping closer. Her eyes go a little wide. I’ve managed to keep my distance, but it’s a battle every single second.
Another step and she swallows. Yesterday, I helped her with a bath and I nearly fucking died.
A final step to end all distance between us and her breathing is coming faster. I tuck a few chocolate colored waves behind her ear, then walk past her to her bookcase again.
“Every book in this box is for you.”
“Grayson—”
“Your bookmark said to buy you books and call you pretty.”
Whatever she was going to say, she doesn’t. She watches me instead.
“You’re really fucking beautiful, so…” I swallow, then clear my throat. “So...I just needed to buy you these books. For now.”
She tilts her head to the side, not saying anything. When she licks her lips, I shove my hands in my pockets to keep myself from touching her. She’s smiling up at me and it warms my chest in a deeply satisfying way I can’t explain.
Tears fill her eyes but none fall. For a second, I worry she’s in pain and ask her.
“No, I’m okay. You just...you keep surprising me.”
Her smile hasn’t wavered. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but her lunging herself at me was not it.
“Thank you,” Selena whispers into my chest. “I think you’re beautiful too.” Her voice is so soft. “Thank you for the books and for taking care of me and for being here.”
“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” I promise and she hugs me tighter.