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“Sydney. Let me talk.”
“You didn’t deny it.” Her face split into a wide grin. “You liked her back when I was casting. And then you two got along so well at the wedding.” I groaned and sat on the stairs, ready to wait out whatever she had to say because there was no stopping her. Not me asking her to stop, not me interrupting her, and damn well not the fact it was way too early to have this conversation. “I know you think distance is a problem and I get it, I do, but Soy, you’d be so good for her. She stops worrying when you’re around.”
Obviously you didn’t notice this morning, I thought, but refrained from saying.
“She doesn’t tell me much, but I see that she’s open with you and I love that for her. And Soy? She’d be really good for you, too.”
The fact that my sister could see all of that told me that maybe it was all true. Sure, I felt that Grace relaxed with me, at least in the past, when in the middle of her anxious moments, but if Sydney could see it, it must be true.
“She seemed happy with Jeremy but she’s always been a different person when you’re around.”
“Was Jeremy good to her?” I asked now, needing to know. Grace could say what she wanted but I needed to be sure that it was evident on the outside too. I needed to know that what I saw in him around Grace was just me being a fucking prick and not the truth.
Sydney shrugged a shoulder. “He was good to her, yeah.”
I wanted to ask a slew of questions, ask about his actions and words, but Sydney would likely recognize the interrogation for what it was. “How long ago did they break up?” If I couldn’t know his actions, I wanted to know how long Grace had been without the man.
“She told me a week ago but we all know Grace. She doesn’t always offer that information. The last time I saw him around was probably a month or so ago.”
I nodded, thinking about what I had seen with Jeremy and what I feared where he was concerned. Hopefully I had just been seeing things and overanalyzing his actions. Hell, maybe he’d been exaggerating his actions around me because he was staking his claim. God, I hoped that was the case. I needed to talk to Grace about it though, to be completely sure.
“But what did you want to know?” Sydney asked, bringing us back to the beginning of this conversation. I had to think back to remember what I was asking about.
Oh yeah.
“When Grace was talking about Sweet Grace and when she said it had been too big of a step, she looked at you before saying it.” I paused and thought about Grace’s look again, then asked the question with the answer, I found, I was afraid of. “Did she have a panic attack in the store?”
Please don’t say yes.
Her having slight anxieties, I could deal with. She knew herself best and she knew she could handle the rushing of words and the pounding of her heart. She knew what she could tolerate and she learned how to push past it.
I knew that she could do it. I’d witnessed it a number of times throughout the five years I’d known her.
“Sawyer, I can’t tell you that,” Sydney said, and as much as I liked that she was a trustworthy friend for Grace, I knew—I fucking knew—that she had the answer I was searching for.
“Just yes or no. You don’t have to tell me anything else. Just yes or no,” I begged.
She stared at me across the short distance, the room dim from the night and lack of lights. “Sawyer…”
“Please, Sydney.”
“Why does it matter?” She threw her hands down at her sides in the overdramatic way I knew my sister could at times.
Did I put all my cards on the table? Did I open up this box? Because if I did, the last day and half of this weekend would consist of Sydney purposely putting Grace and I in situations where it was just her and I. Sydney would force the two of us to realize that we could be more than friends, and that we would work as more than friends.
We would work far better than Grace and Jeremy, and so, so much better than me and any woman I brought to my bed in the nights, weeks, months before.
We would work.
We could work.
“Because I care about her,” I confessed, leaving off the ‘as a friend’ because Sydney would see right through that anyway.
I could see Sydney fight with what she wanted to say. She fidgeted against the couch and scratched at her face. She wanted to tell me, she did, but she was a damn good friend and as loyal to Grace as she was to me.
“I can’t tell you, Soy. I’m sorry.”
Resigned, I sighed and allowed that to be her answer. “Yeah, alright. Good night, Syd. I’ll see you in a few hours,” I said, turning to head up the stairs.
