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“Sure is.” He stares up for a second. “That’s what I missed most about being locked up.”
“Does your place have skylights?” I ask.
His lips quirk. “No, but it’s on the top floor, so maybe I’ll ask management to install some.”
“Good idea.”
The large high school looms up ahead, the parking lot lit up like it’s game night.
“They get this kind of turnout for a play? Or is there a basketball game or something going on?”
I chuckle at his confusion. I’d asked the same question the first time Emily asked me to attend a performance.
“What? Am I showing my age?” he asks.
“Not at all. I thought the same thing. But it’s a big deal. The school puts on elaborate productions. A lot of work goes into all of it.”
He slides the truck into a spot in the back row of the parking lot. I send one more quick text to Emily, then silence my phone and shove it in my purse.
Grayson opens my door and offers me his hand. After shutting the door, he stares at me and adjusts my jacket. “Warm enough?”
“Oh, yes.” I pull the zipper to my chin.
He slips his hand around mine and we head for the entrance.
As promised, Emily’s waiting right inside the door. She squeals and races over to hug me. Caught off-balance, I stumble into her and we both laugh.
“Easy,” I tease. “I just saw you the other day.”
She squeezes me one last time before letting go and raking her gaze over Grayson.
My body tenses. Emily’s observant. She’s also ruthless and sharp-tongued at times. I just hope now won’t be one of those times.
I take Grayson’s hand again. “Grayson, this is one of my best friends, Emily. Em, this is Grayson.” I speak each word slowly so she catches my warning not to start trouble.
After a long perusal, she blinks up at him and actually smiles. “Serena had such nice things to say about you. I’m glad we could meet. And thanks for coming.” She gestures toward the theater. “I know it’s probably not everyone’s first choice of entertainment.”
“I’m intrigued after the bits of information Serena’s given me,” Grayson answers smoothly.
On the way to our seats, Emily hooks her arm through mine and tugs me toward her. “Guuuurl, you weren’t lying,” she whispers in my ear. “Your man is fine. Hot enough to make me reconsider my hard no to age gaps.”
I snort-chuckle. “Well, find your own. This one’s mine.”
She smiles even wider.
Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
Chapter Eighteen
Grinder
There’s so much creative energy from the kids on stage. It leaves me hopeful but also stirs up old regrets. Sitting so close to Serena helps. The frequent funny lines and light-hearted musical numbers keep me entertained and help me forget I’m in a crowded room full of strangers.
The tiny seats weren’t meant to accommodate a man my size. Serena’s friend went out of her way to find an aisle seat for me so I can at least occasionally stretch one leg.
Serena silently slips her hand into mine and squeezes. We stay connected in some way until the curtain drops for the final time.
“Did you like it?” A worried note colors Serena’s question.
“I did.” It gave me two and a half hours to take my mind off the constant dread of screwing up and going back to prison and all the other thoughts that constantly haunt the inside of my skull. Almost made me feel normal.
Emily scoots out of the aisle behind us and flanks Serena’s other side. “There’s a concession stand in the cafeteria. Drinks and some baked goods. To raise money for the theater program.”
Serena glances up at me. “I want to congratulate Libby and give her something. Maybe buy a muffin to show my support.”
“I’m fine.” We follow the herd of people into the cafeteria where the noise volume and chatter rises to an intolerable level.
I assume no one’s gonna try and shiv me here, but I’ve been wrong before. Got the scars to prove it.
I don’t want to ruin Serena’s smile as she searches the horde of teenagers and their families for her friend, so I keep my discomfort to myself and maneuver my big body into a spot where I can keep my back to the wall and my eyes on Serena.
Emily pushes a paper cup full of red liquid into my hand and smiles up at me. “There’s no alcohol in it, unfortunately.” She leans in and loudly whispers, “But I bet we’d find some vodka if we raided the teacher’s lounge.”
“This’ll do fine.” I take a sip of the ultra-sweet juice. “Thank you.”
She watches me for a moment. What’d Serena tell her friend about us? Did she warn Emily she was dating an ex-con old enough to be her dad? Emily hadn’t recoiled when we met but now, her gaze drops to the ink on my hands and travels up. Like she’s trying to figure out if I’m good enough for her friend.
