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My baby brother’s grown up. My shoulders slump, a heavy exhale leaving me. I’m the one that’s acting childish here, not him.
“I don’t want to lose someone else that I love,” I admit, after another moment of looking him over. “I can’t do that again.”
“You think that she’s going to change her mind?” Charlie asks, frowning a little.
I shrug. “I don’t know, Charlie. I just know that I can’t go through it again. I’ve lost enough already.”
“You know, Grant,” says Charlie. “I’ve never known you to be afraid. I think that you should just… Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Getting in your own head about this,” says Charlie. He puts a hand on my shoulder, and then starts leading me through the streets, back towards the hotel where the meeting will be held. “You’re going to let being afraid stop you from doing something that could change your life.”
“I thought you were against commitment,” I mutter, trying not to focus on the fact that Charlie’s correct.
Charlie snorts. “I don’t want to get married. That doesn’t mean I don’t think anyone should get married. I think—” He pauses for a moment, actually thinking over what he has to say. Finally, he tells me, “I think that Ashley really loves you. And if you love her too, you shouldn’t let what happened with Thomas make you afraid of going for it. She really is into you.”
“When did you get so smart?” I ask him, with a snort. It’s hard to find an argument against that line of thought. “I thought you were supposed to be the baby brother here, huh?”
Charlie flashes me a grin. “I got smart years ago. Everyone’s just too blind to see it.”
Yeah, they have been.
And I’ve been just as blind as my dad. Charlie grew up on us, and no one wanted to admit it. I’ve been blind about a lot of things, it seems. And though I don’t have time to try and fix things with Ashley just yet, I know that I’m going to try and talk to her when the meeting is through.
If she’s even willing to hear what I have to say, after the way I took off on her last night.
Chapter twenty-two
Ashley
I’veallbutgivenup on the evening when the door to the penthouse opens up. My head snaps up, my eyes turning to the door. “Grant!”
There he is, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand. The dark blue paper has been wrapped around a bundle of green stems. Colorful daisies, carnations, and a few yellow and pink roses are scattered through the bouquet, along with an array of baby’s breath flowers.
He closes the door behind himself and then meets me halfway across the room, giving me the bouquet. “I’m so sorry, Ashley.”
I take the flowers, my lower lip wobbling, and my eyes starting to brim with unshed tears. I throw my arms around his neck, still clutching the bouquet, and collapse against him in a hug. “It’s my fault. I sprung it on you, and I shouldn’t have.”
“We just—we just need to talk about a few things,” says Grant. “I’ve already put in for room service and wine. They should be here—” There’s a knock on the door. He smiles at me. “Right now.”
And then he’s turning and moving to open the door, collecting our room service, sushi and sake. We sit down at the table, the spread of food between us. “But first, let’s eat. Today, the meeting, last night…It all has me famished.” He says as he fills our sake glasses. I was expecting it to be uncomfortable and awkward, but there’s nothing about the situation that actually seems tense. We eat, sitting right next to each other. We each have some sake, and then he asks, “You want something more than just us pretending?”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. I take a deep breath, deciding that this is the moment to let all of the secrets come out and get placed on the table. “I didn’t, at the start. It wasn’t a trick. You were my friend, and it was something that worked for both of us and now you feel like my best friend. As we started spending more time together, I realized exactly how amazing you are to be around. I realized… I realized that I liked you, a lot. Too much.”
Grant doesn’t say anything right away.
I continue, talking faster now as the nerves grip me, “I wanted to let you know that—that I really do want something with you. And if you don’t, that’s okay. Once we’re back in the states, we can go back to sleeping in separate rooms and—”
He leans forward suddenly, putting a hand around the back of my head, fingers tangling in my blonde hair, and kisses me. It’s a passionate joining of lips, no tongue, just him, pressing against me. I wrap one arm around his shoulders, twisting my fingers into his shirt.
He presses into me, only backing up so he can move me to the bed. I go without any hesitation at all, letting my head hit the pillows.
“I feel the same way,” says Grant, pressing another kiss to the corner of my mouth, the curve of my jaw. “I feel the same way about you. And I want to show you that.”
“You do?”
“I do,” says Grant.
