Chapter Eighteen
Grant
When I opened the door of my childhood bedroom, I was greeted by my mother’s cat, who, unfortunately, took a liking to me. Everyone claimed it was because we both had the same personality.
“Rob Zombie,” I said, regarding him carefully.
He stood on his hind legs and propped his front paws on me. He began making biscuits on my leg, repeatedly sinking his claws into my pajama bottoms and retracting them. He was spooked and took off when the bedroom door across the hall wrenched open, revealing the ol’ ball and chain herself.
Living right across the hallway from each other always felt like a cruel joke.
The object of my desires slept a few yards from me, but because of our circumstances, it always felt like she was miles away.
It used to annoy the hell out of me whenever I’d walk by, and her door wasn’t open.
My imagination would run wild as I wondered what she was doing on the opposite side of the door.
Was she doing her homework? Was she dressing for bed?
Was she lying in bed on the phone gossiping with one of her brain-dead friends?
Or worse… was she on the phone entertaining one of the many desperate boys who vied for her attention, thinking they had a shot with her?
“Good morning, Grant. How did you sleep?” Kiyah asked, blessing me with her first smile of the day.
“You’d know if you stuck around, but I shouldn’t be surprised,” I responded curtly as my eyes skimmed her attire.
She wore high-waisted cutoff denim shorts and what appeared to be a ratty crop band t-shirt.
The strings of her white bikini peeked around her neck.
It took me a few more moments to recognize the band splayed on her t-shirt.
I laughed and vigorously scrubbed a hand at my cheek and the back of my neck because that was all I could do not to strangle her.
“What’s so funny, Grant?”
“Take the fucking shirt off,” I demanded. She glanced down.
“What’s wrong with my shirt?” she asked, sounding genuinely confused.
She can’t be this dumb. She has to be fucking with me.
“I don’t know, Ki. Maybe it has something to do with you sleeping with the lead singer.”
“I didn’t sleep with him,” she hissed.
“No man writes a song about a woman he didn’t have an intimate relationship with.”
“That’s not true,” she protested.
“Take the fucking shirt off,” I repeated. Her soft lips slowly slid into a wide grin.
“No. I don’t think I will. This shirt,” she said, pausing to point at the band’s logo, “happens to be my favorite shirt, and I won’t let your misplaced jealousy force me to change.”
“Kiyah,” I said in a low warning, crossing the hallway. I crowded her space and hovered over her, hoping she’d back down, but I should’ve known better.
“I’ll tell you what, Maxwell. If you can wrestle me out of the shirt, you can get rid of it.”
“Meet me in the backyard in five minutes.”
“Make it three. I don’t have all day,” she said before jogging down the stairs with her ponytail bouncing behind her.
“I can’t wait to see this,” Dad said, announcing his presence.
“How long have you been standing there?” I asked accusingly.
“Long enough. I must go. I want to get the best seat in the house. My money is on Kiyah.”
“Why Kiyah?” I asked, pissed off that he would bet against me.
“Because you always took it easy on her when you were children. I’m sure not much has changed. I’d tell you to go for the takedown, and your response was always, ‘But, Dad, I don’t want to hurt her.’”
At that moment, I didn’t know what pissed me off more, Kiyah flouncing around in that band shirt or Dad not having faith in me.
I’ll show them both.
* * *
I stretched my right arm across my body as our family took their respective bets in the background. From what I could tell, we were evenly split.
“Daisy, you must still be hungover from last night because there’s no way you’d pick Kiyah over Grant. You can’t bet against Big Bro like that!” Kieran exclaimed.
“I can, and I will,” she replied, pulling Nori down into her lap.
Nori squealed in delight and didn’t fight it when Daisy blew a raspberry against her cheek.
I softly smiled as I recalled watching them drunkenly slow dance with each other last night.
They whispered in each other’s ears as the DJ played sultry R happier than they’d ever been, and for the first time, I felt confident they would make it.
A pang of jealousy ripped through me because, despite how I claimed I was satisfied with eloping, a part of me wished we had the real thing.
It’s fine. We can always get remarried. But will Kiyah agree after I embarrass her in front of everyone?
“Go, Kiyah! Whip his ass, baby!” Mom shouted as she joined Dad on the lounger. She took a swig from her mimosa before handing him one.
“Hurry up and make him submit, Kiyah. The party bus should be here in twenty minutes to take us to our first stop,” Casey said as he filled a cooler with beer.
“You’re rooting for Kiyah, too, huh?”
He shrugged and threw a beer can at Ronan before cracking open his own.
It’s 8:00 in the morning, and everyone is already getting started. God help us all.
“You’re gonna let her win.”
I snorted. “We can’t all put our sisters in the hospital.”
Casey shrugged again with a wide smile. “Daisy should’ve tapped.”
“You broke her fucking arm.”
“And I’ll do it again,” he declared.
“I’d like to see you try,” Nori threatened, coming to her woman’s rescue.
“Oh, my bad. I forgot. You’re the only one who can abuse Daisy.”
Casey ducked when Nori threw a beer can at him.
“You kids better pick up these cans out of this backyard before y’all leave. I know that,” Mom said in a threatening tone that left no room for arguing.
“All right. Let’s do it. You ready, Granny?” Kiyah asked as she rolled her neck. The family tauntingly oohed from the background, fueling the already smoldering fire.
I nodded and shoved my mouthguard in my mouth. Kiyah did the same.
“All right, you two. Let’s have a quick and clean fight,” Ronan declared, standing in as ref. “The fight will end when an opponent taps out or loses consciousness. Touch hands.”
Kiyah and I slapped hands and bumped fists before creating a wide berth between us.
We bent over and crouched low as we circled each other—neither wanted to make the first move.
She reached out, and I quickly batted her hand away as we continued to circle.
This went on for a minute or so until Kiyah gave herself up.
“Go in for the takedown, Grant!” Dad shouted right as Kiyah dropped her stance. She lunged for me. I caught her by her shirt, pivoted to the right, and put her behind me. I leaned forward and nearly sent her airborne when I flipped her over my shoulder.
“Ooooo!” I heard when Kiyah’s back hit the ground, and all the oxygen evacuated her body. I didn’t hesitate to cover her body.
“Great job, son!” Dad shouted.
“No, don’t congratulate him, Jon!” Mom hissed. “He’s being entirely too rough!”
“I love you, honey, but an attacker isn’t going to take it easy on Kiyah. She could’ve easily avoided that.”
He’s not lying. She could’ve, but as usual, Kiyah was too self-assured, and like everyone else, I bet she thought I’d take it easy on her.
“Come on, baby. I know you have more fight in you than that,” I whispered in her ear as she attempted to squirm from underneath me.
She grunted in response and placed her feet on the ground.
She drove her hips up and tried to buck me off.
I wrapped my legs around her and locked my ankles underneath her ass.
“Give it up, Kiyah!” Kieran shouted as we slid across the grass.
She was dripping sweat and panting as she attempted to restrain my arms. I could rest in our current position until she tired herself from exertion.
From what I remembered, our skill level was nearly equal, but I had a good eighty pounds on her. There was no hope for her.
As the seconds ticked by, her movements grew sluggish, and she sounded winded.
Now.
I loosened my grip on her, and she didn’t hesitate to roll onto her ass and try to bring herself up to a standing position.
When I found my opening, I grabbed her arm, tucked it back, fanned my leg over her head, and used the momentum to flip us over.
She screamed in pain, but I didn’t let her go until I felt her rapidly tapping against my leg.
The naysayers groaned in disappointment as I caught my breath with a megawatt smile on my face.
“Grant’s the winner by submission,” Ronan announced. I relished in my victory for two seconds before rolling over and checking on Kiyah.
“You okay?” I asked, noticing how she held her collarbone—the same one she broke in that drag racing accident.
“I’m fine,” she huffed. “I just need a minute.”
“Good. Let me help you up,” I said, extending a hand to her. She accepted it, and I pulled us both off the ground. I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Now… go upstairs and take that fucking shirt off and put it in my bedroom so that I can dispose of it properly.”
I pulled away and clocked the smirk on her lips.
“The party bus has arrived! Everyone, get your asses on the bus! Not you, Mom and Dad!” Casey announced. During all the commotion, Kiyah seized the opportunity to mouth, “Yes, Daddy,” before sauntering away.
I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep my cool around Kiyah during this 24-hour bachelorette party.