17. Rosay
Chapter seventeen
Rosay
H is dick is pierced. His dick is pierced. His dick is pierced.
It’s a running thought inside my head as I hurry to the bed, leaving Graham in my wake.
We’re supposed to be keeping everything surface level, focusing on our end goal of getting past this weekend without embarrassing ourselves, hopefully with Graham getting a few new clients.
What we’re not supposed to be doing is damn near fucking against the bathroom counter.
At first, I thought it would be fun to tease Graham, to play off his obvious attraction to me, but I didn’t expect he’d be doing the same.
And he’s better at it. He knows exactly how to wind me up with a simple kiss, and now I almost believe the tension between us would finally subside if we just had sex and got over it.
The allure of each other would be gone and we could focus on what we came here for.
My skin still hums from where he touched me, the firm press of his hands against my thighs and the bite of his teeth against my neck. The uneven rhythm in my chest continues as I slide beneath the covers, pressing my legs together to stem the surge of arousal just thinking about it.
The sound of rushing water helps me relax, knowing I have a few minutes to gather myself while Graham showers.
Everything I thought I knew about him has been obliterated in one day.
What I used to see as grumpiness and general assholery has morphed into an explosive type of banter that ramps me up in the best way possible.
He’s funnier than I expected, and more intuitive than any man I’ve ever been with, and not just in the sexual sense.
All day he calmed me down when I started to spiral about my family, and the comfort he infuses me with each time he stills my knee or wraps his hand around mine is more than I could have asked for in a fake partner.
I just wish it wasn’t fake anymore.
The thunk of the shower handle stops my mind from veering down a path I blocked off after I found Connor cheating.
Graham might want to be intimate with me, but it’s only in the physical sense.
He doesn’t really know me. Sure, he knows a little more than he did last week since we needed to learn just enough to make our ruse believable, but the hard parts, the nitty gritty of our core?
No. Good Time Graham keeps things surface level. And I’m okay with that.
I pile a line of pillows between my side and his and pull my book back onto my lap. Steam billows out of the door when he opens it, and I swear I nearly pop a blood vessel keeping my eyes on my papers. Footsteps shuffle along the carpet, and the bed dips as he slides in beside me.
“This is the latest I’ve gone to bed in a long time,” he says, getting comfortable beneath the covers.
“Oh, really? I thought Good Time Graham was a night owl, wooing all the ladies at galas and mixers.”
I don’t mean for it to come off jealous, but even I can’t deny there’s a tinge of it to my voice.
I learned long ago that it wasn’t worth it to stay out late.
Going to galas and events were always more about showing up for my clients and then getting the hell out of there before the drinks really started flowing and it became unsafe to drive.
Graham’s sigh makes me turn my head. “What?”
“Nothing,” he says, tongue poking into his cheek.
I grit my teeth at his passive aggressive response.
I, more than anyone, understand there’s usually something behind the comment that he’s trying to mask.
At this point, I’m a master at using snark to ward off someone delving beneath the surface and finding the pain I’ve become all too familiar with.
Tension is visible in his neck and jaw, so I shut my book and focus on him, intent on getting to the bottom of his annoyance.
“Didn’t I tell you that a normal couple communicates?”
The corners of his mouth turn down, but his shoulders slacken as he sinks into the pillow behind him. “I’m sick of hearing that nickname. It’s nowhere close to the truth.”
There’s more to that statement, and I wait until he gets the hint that I’m listening.
“People are always so quick to believe the gossip magazines. They couldn’t care less about whether the story they’re reading is actually truthful or if the pictures just match up to the narrative someone is peddling behind the scenes.”
I stare at him, confused. While I agree that not everything is as it seems, Graham was photographed with multiple women after he broke it off with his fiancée. The truth might be different, but the optics weren’t hard to manipulate.
His lips pinch, uncertain he wants to let out whatever he’s been keeping inside.
The urge to grasp his hand and lend him some of my confidence bubbles up inside me, and for once, I don’t think about whether or not there’s a reason why I’m doing this.
My fingers tangle with his, and I nod for him to continue.
“I didn’t cheat on Bethany.” His chest collapses as he blows out a breath. “I walked in on her screwing one of my clients in the house I had just bought for us.”
I gulp do wn the curses that form on my tongue. His gaze is locked where my thumb grazes the back of his hand, and I squeeze it to let him know I’m with him.
“That’s shitty.”
He chuckles, but it feels…stale.
“What was shitty is that the only reason I found out was because my dad’s chemo appointment was cancelled, and I wanted to surprise her early for Valentine’s Day.”
My mouth falls open and a heaviness expands in my core, pushing my heart into my throat. There’s pain in his deep brown eyes, and I hate myself for adding to it every time I’ve made a snarky comment about his past.
“Fuck, Graham. I’m so sorry.” I gnaw on my lip, batting away a tear that rolls down my face.
He shakes his head, and shrugs. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I won’t call you that anymore.”
“Thank you,” he says.
“How is your dad doing?”
He looks at me with appreciation, searching my face for something.
“Every day is different,” he says. “He’s on his second round of chemo, so he’s tired and sleeps most of the day.” He toys with a frayed edge on a pillow, and I long to hug him. “He worked to the bone for a company that up and closed right before he found out he had cancer.”
“And let me guess, no severance package?”
His nose curls up as if he smells something bad. “Bingo.”
Like the clouds parting to reveal a sunny day, I finally understand why Graham is constantly on edge at work, why he needs to get more clients.
From what I’ve learned of him in the past few days, he’s more caring and supportive than I ever imagined, so I can assume he’s helping his dad in s ome way.
Which makes me hate Bethany even more for how she allowed his reputation to be dragged through the mud.
Connor might’ve cheated on me, but he didn’t purposely humiliate me. He didn’t tarnish my reputation—not that I had one to begin with—after we split. I was hurt, but it was a simple break up that wasn’t noteworthy to anyone.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he says.
“If you weren’t the one who cheated, then why didn’t you correct the media?”
He huffs out a laugh. “A mix of pride and a big heart. She begged me not to since she was just starting her PR firm. Made me feel like I had brought it on myself because I neglected her in favor of working to support us and helping my father. Eventually it just kind of snowballed, then I realized it’s easier to be what they wanted me to be, or what they thought I was, rather than exhausting myself trying to change their opinion. ”
How the hell did he get inside my head?
“I get that,” I reply, leaning on the pillow mountain between us.
He arches a brow. “Do you really?”
I nod, the tightness in my chest making my breaths shallow as Graham waits for me to answer.
He’s been so open and vulnerable, and I’ve harped on the fact that good relationships have two good communicators, but I’m a fraud.
There are parts of me I haven’t let anyone see, parts I’m ashamed of.
The last person I let get past my defenses left me high and dry, and I learned to avoid the pain by keeping things casual.
But Graham’s trust in me, his vulnerability and openness about what happened, gives me courage to finally say what I’ve kept locked away.
“I’ve stayed away from my family because I feel like I do nothing but bring them embarrassment.”
He frowns. “How could you be an embarrassment to your family? You’re one of the smartest and most hardworking people I know.
You’re a freaking vice president of one of the top investment firms in the state, and your clients adore you.
Hell, I don’t know how I could manage to work at Thompson if I didn’t have you around keeping me on my toes. ”
Butterflies flap inside my stomach at his compliments, but there’s still that small voice inside my head reminding me that while I’m good at what I do, it’s not where my heart has always been.
“I was supposed to be a teacher. Or well, I wanted to be a teacher.” I swallow against a dry throat and lick my lips to moisten them. “After my mom passed away, I spiraled. Dad threw himself into working and keeping the winery afloat, and I got in with a bad crowd.”
“That had to be difficult for both of you.”
Pain twists my heart at what I put my dad through.
“I was angry at the world, at myself, and at my dad for moving on with Wendy. It felt like he was trying to replace me and my mom, that they were going to be his new family. I raged against everything and everyone, and one day the group of friends I fell in with decided to throw bricks into someone’s house.
I didn’t throw any, but when I tried to get back over the fence, security nabbed me. ”
“Oh wow. Is that where you got the scar from?”