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Because it doesn’t matter that she’s not here with me, she’s always wherever I am.
My eyes are still on her as she paddles towards a cotton candy sky taking my heart with her.
* * *
Blair greetsme as I walk into the ballroom of the hotel. She’s wearing a fitted black dress that ends above her knees, her hair swept up in a twist on top of her head. Her lips are painted a bright red. She looks much happier to see me than I am to see her. I’m sure my face conveys my foul mood. I hate that I have to be here with Blair instead of anywhere at all with Sierra.
If only she answered her phone.
I called her this morning, but her phone sent me straight to voicemail. A few hours later I texted her asking her to call me. I wanted to tell her where I’d be tonight, but she messaged back saying she was visiting her gran and we could talk later.
“Grayson, you’re here. And you clean up nice,” Blair purrs, making my skin crawl. I’m putting in exactly two hours and then I’m out of here. And I can guarantee it will be the longest two hours of my life. “Come on, let’s get a drink.”
I reluctantly follow her to the bar, where I order myself a scotch on the rocks and knock it back. The liquor burns its way down my throat, and I can feel the tension in my body start to unravel itself. I’ll need another one of those if I’m going to make it through the next couple of hours with the woman who’s been making my professional life hell.
Let’s get this night the fuck over with.
We sit for a presentation then mingle with the who’s who of the hotel industry, stopping for a few photos. Noticeably missing in the well-dressed crowd is Max Collins—and his presence is the reason I am here in the first place. Blair seems unfazed by it. She hasn’t left my side all night, making me uncomfortable as hell. She laughs when I say just about anything and finds any excuse to squeeze my arm. I overhear someone asking her if we’re dating—I’m not surprised, considering the way she’s been hanging all over me. Whatdoessurprise me is that she doesn’t say no. It took everything in me not to set the other woman straight. After being here for exactly two hours on the dot, I’m ready to get the hell out of here.
“Where are you going?” Blair asks, her voice low and flirty after a couple of drinks.
I not so subtly glance at the door. “I’m leaving. Get home safe, Blair. See you at the office.”
Her expression turns pouty. “Come on, Grayson, it’s still early. I have a room here at the hotel, we could go there and get away from this crowd. Catch up.”
My body stiffens. I. Am. Done. “I did what was asked of me and now I’m going home. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with our boss.”
At this point, I’ve had all that I can take. She can tell Beckett about our one-night stand. I don’t give a fuck. She can tell him I was a complete dick to her tonight too for all I care.
As far as I’m concerned, this conversation is over, so I ignore the anger I see in her eyes and head for the door.
TWENTY-THREE
HE IS WAY BETTER THAN THAT TOY YOU KEEP IN YOUR DRAWER.
Sierra
“I’m here with coffee,” Jules says, holding two to-go cups in her hands when I open my front door.
I take one of the cups, noticing it’s from Dream Bean, my favorite coffee shop on the planet. I don’t really feel up for company, but my craving for the liquid drug wins out. I push the door open further, welcoming Jules in.
It’s Sunday afternoon and I was supposed to be out for lunch with the girls. Not in the mood to be social, I opted to stay home and sulk. Besides dragging myself to work every morning, eating three almost-meals a day and showering, moping around my house is all that I seem able to accomplish these days. I don’t even have it in me to bake. Ever since that night Grayson and I made cookies together in my kitchen, the thought of baking alone in the same space feels too lonely.
Jules brushes past me into my living room. I notice my reflection in the mirror on the wall and I cringe. My hair is a tangled nest, my eyes are smeared with yesterday’s eyeliner and I’m wearing an old T-shirt of Grayson’s that has an ice cream stain on my boob. I’m officially a hot mess—minus the “hot” part.
Jules flops down on the couch while I take the armchair next to her, pulling a blanket over myself to cover the dirty shirt.
“You know you can’t hide your wallowing from me,” she says, her eyes meeting mine. “I know something’s going on. I’m assuming Jake found out about you and Grayson?”
I’m surprised by her question. I haven’t been able to talk about the mess I’ve made to anyone. “How did you know?”
Jules shrugs. “I didn’t,” she says, pulling her legs up underneath her. “You haven’t been yourself in days and neither has Grayson—Beck said that he’s been a bear to be around at work. As for your brother, he’s been MIA, which Beckett says usually means he’s in a mood. So I put two and two together.”
“Good work, detective,” I say with a small smile.
She looks up from her coffee with compassion in her eyes. “Ahh babe, I’m sorry. It really is a mess, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
