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Dropping into the sofa, I mentally give my head a shake. I was seconds away from kissing Sierra with her brother in the next room.
TEN
BARE CHESTED. GRAY SWEATS. BARE FEET.
Sierra
It’s the night of Jake’s cookout, and despite the fact that it’s 3 a.m. I’m wide awake.
I was torn from sleep the same way I always am—short of breath, heart racing. And it doesn’t matter that it has almost been 16 years since I was carried out of the house that went up in flames—I still feel scared and alone and filled with sheer panic.
I sit up in bed, pajamas soaked, my mind still re-playing the images from that night like a reel. It’s pretty clear I’m not falling back to sleep anytime soon. Taking a deep breath, I flip the covers off and slip out of bed, knowing it will be at least an hour before I’ll feel relaxed enough to crawl back into bed.
This is how the nightmares work. They keep me up, unable to stop my mind from spinning in a million different directions, down terrifying paths of what ifs.
I change into a tank and sweat shorts then grab a glass of water from the kitchen, carrying it to the swing on the front porch. I only lasted two weeks back in Reed Point before the nightmares returned. It didn’t take long.
I tuck my legs underneath me and watch the waves roll slowly into shore, concentrating on taking deep, even breaths. My gaze then drifts to the porch light I left on and the one firefly chaotically dancing under its glare.
My mind drifts back to tonight’s get together at Jake’s house. After tidying up the kitchen, I said goodbye around midnight, just after Holden and Aubrey left. Grayson had just cracked open another beer when I left, with Jake of course walking me to the door making sure I got to my car safely.
My brother made me promise to message him when I got home, and also called me to make sure I locked the front door as I pulled my car down the drive. Same old Jake, clearly falling back into his overprotective ways.
Will it always be this way between us? When I’m 40 years old with three kids, will my brother still be checking in on me with a million warnings and reminders? I’m sure he’d freak the fuck out if he knew I was outside on my porch, in the middle of the night, all alone. I won’t be telling him.
But a few minutes later, I’m not all alone.
The street is dark, save for my porch light and the soft glow of the moonlight streaming over the ocean, but not so dark that I don’t notice the movement coming from Grayson’s porch.
I sit up straighter on the swing when his front door swings shut and he pads out into the night air. I can only see a shadow of him, but I can feel his eyes on me.
“Sierra, what the hell are you doing out here all alone at this time of night?” he calls, concern in his voice.
Oh great, I’m getting it from Grayson too. I’m a grown woman, I don’t need a chaperone to sit on my own porch. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Why does that seem so difficult for these guys to understand?
“Relax, Grayson,” I say. “I’m barely five feet from my front door. What is the worst that could happen?”
“I can rattle off a list,” he says, scrubbing his hand through his blonde hair. “You shouldn’t be out here by yourself, Sierra.”
I frown. “I can take care of myself, Grayson.” I already have to deal with one man who treats me like a child, I won’t deal with another.
Thankfully he is smart enough to stop the chastising, “Okay,” he says, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I haven’t seen you out here before. You okay?”
I cock my head at him. “You say that like you’re often out here in the middle of the night.”
He shrugs. “I’m not the best sleeper. I like it out here in the summer. The night air feels good.”
I pause, surprised that he feels the same way I do. On nights like this when I can’t sleep, sitting outside is the only thing that seems to help. “I know what you mean. I’m not always the best sleeper either but I’ve been finding this spot on my porch makes me feel a little better.”
Grayson is quiet for a second, like he’s deep in thought. His eyes find mine, holding my gaze. I sit still, soaking up every second of his eyes on me, until he asks, “Want some company?”
“Sure.” My answer is honest, easy, but still, it feels like hundreds of butterflies have been let loose in my stomach. Jake’s kitchen flashes through my mind, remembering the feeling of having Grayson so close to me, and how badly I wanted him to kiss me. I wasn’t sure what would have happened if my brother hadn’t interrupted us from the living room. With Grayson Ford only inches from me, his eyes searing into mine, no one could blame me if I gave in.
Grayson walks across the lawn to my place, a silhouette in the dark. As he gets closer to the glow of my porch light, I suddenly notice what he’s wearing. Or what he’snotwearing.
Bare chested. Gray sweats. Bare feet.
My mouth waters.
