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Grayson: Am I supposed to be this nervous? How are you feeling?
I smile as I read the message, imagining him pacing back and forth across his living room with his hand in his hair.
Sierra: I’m a little anxious too.
Grayson: Are you sure you don’t want to tell him together? I can come over. Just say the word.
Sierra: I think this needs to come from me, but thanks. That’s sweet. ;)
Grayson: I’m not going anywhere tonight. If you need me, I’m right next door.
Sierra: Oh, is that where you live?
Grayson: Smart-ass. I also love your ass. So much that I want it in the air when I have you on your hands and knees for me tonight.
My skin heats. Grayson is a master at sexting, and I love being on the receiving end of his spicy messages. I decide to have a little fun with him. I pull my shirt over my head and snap a picture of the lacy pink bra I’m wearing, the one that’s so sheer you can faintly see my nipples though the material. I hit send with a caption that reads, “Bra on or off?”
Grayson: Cancel your brother. I’m coming over.
Sierra: I’ll see you later, Gray. Kissing face emoji.
My body is still humming from Grayson’s texts, when there’s a knock at my door. My excitement immediately turns into panic. Shit is about to hit the fan.
I open the door, trying to stay calm. I’ve made up my mind. I just need to tell my brother the truth and then Gray and I can stop sneaking around. Jake smiles when he sees me, hanging his coat on the hook and following me into the kitchen.
“Something smells good. What’s in the oven?”
“A lasagna. It’s Mom’s recipe. I know how much you like it.”
My mom used to make lasagna every year for Jake’s birthday, it was always his favorite. I smile at the memory as I hand a glass of Coke to my brother.
“Kitchen’s looking great.” Jake’s eyes sweep the space. “I can’t believe you’re doing this all by yourself.”
I swallow, thinking about all the nights Grayson has been here helping me, painting, hanging the cupboard doors, screwing on the new hardware. My mind then drifts to how those nights usually end, wrapped up together in my bed.
“It’s kept me busy,” I say, banishing the picture from my head. “I wonder what Gran will think?”
“You’re gonna know soon enough when she comes over in a few weeks. She told me that you invited her for dinner with me and the guys. I guess you forgot to give me the invitation?” Jake says from the table, grabbing a handful of potato chips.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I completely forgot to mention it to you guys. When I visited Gran the other day she was asking about Grayson, Holden and Tucker. It seemed like she’s missing them. When I suggested having everyone over for dinner, her eyes lit up. Do you think you can make it?”
“I can make it.” He nods, popping another chip in his mouth.
“Good. I’m going to make all Gran’s favorites,” I say, taking the tinfoil off the lasagna pan. “I was thinking we could all play cards after dinner. I know she’d like that.”
“She’s seemed good the last couple of times I visited. I think she’s made a few friends,” Jake says. “I saw her sitting by the fountain with some guy and it was weird. She looked all heart-eyed and seemed startled when I approached them. You don’t think she could be—”
“Finish that sentence and I will stab you,” I threaten, pointing a serrated knife at my brother.
“Geez,” Jake snorts.
“I don’t wanna hear about Gran and…” I shake my head, laughing. “Nope… that’s gross. I’m changing the subject. The lasagna is ready. I hope you’re hungry.”
I cut two large squares of the spinach and ricotta bake, licking the sauce from my fingers. I sit down at the table across from my brother and slide one of the heaping plates in front of him. We’re both quiet for a few moments as we take the first couple of bites.
Jake can drive me crazy at times, but it’s so nice living in the same zip code again. It means a lot to me to be able to cook him dinner, to share our thoughts on Gran… and, apparently, her possible sex life at the nursing home.It makes my stomach twist in knots, knowing that I have to break the news to him about me and Grayson. But I can’t put it off any longer. I need to just rip off the Band-Aid and tell him. As I sit gathering my courage, his phone buzzes with a message.
He picks it up, looking down at the phone. Then he frowns.
