Arm Candy (Real Love #2)(63)

“I’m coming to your place,” he says, his voice sexy and suggestive.

I manage a curt “I’m waiting.”

“See you in ten.”

Ten.

I have ten minutes to think of what to say.





Davis


Grace inviting me over goes a long way toward soothing my ragged nerves. The other day I overthought myself into a tizzy.

Tizzies are not manly.

I park at the curb and walk to her door. I notice I’m whistling—how about that? I’m not sure “chipper” is manly either, but I’m going with it.

Grace answers with wet hair, wearing jeans, a sweatshirt, and fluffy blue socks.

I hand over the fall bouquet in my hand. “For you.”

Her eyes go to the blooms and then lift to my face. “We need to talk, Davis.”

A jolt shocks my system. My brain scrambles to remember what Vince said the other night. Something about cutting her off to tell her I was wrong. Was that it? Something about how I was the one who jumped the gun?

“We do need to talk,” I say. On the cusp of eating the I love you that I said a long time ago and meant ever since, I hesitate. I could tell her the offer of my house key was premature, but that too feels like the wrong move.

I’m not going to lie to Grace. I’m not going to say I didn’t mean any of it when I meant all of it.

“Come in.”

I step into her house and close the door behind me. I follow her to the kitchen, where she’s pulling a glass vase down from an overhead cabinet. She rinses it and fills it with water, and I hand over the flowers.

We stand in silence while she unwraps them and takes the extra step of trimming the ends with shears. I keep my mouth shut. No good can come of my speaking first. She’s the one with something to say. I’m going to let her say it.

“They’re beautiful.” She looks sad. A bizarre spark of hope comes when I wonder if she’s upset about her father, not me.

“Is this about your dad?” My heart thuds hard, then harder when she shakes her head no. That means it’s about me. Well, shit.

I take her hand and lead her to the sofa, shrugging out of my coat. She sits, looks at her lap, and fidgets with the pocket on the front of her sweatshirt.

“Tell me, Gracie.”

She inhales. I steel my spine. I’d rather know what’s going on in her head than not know. Not knowing sucks.

“You said you wanted more,” she starts. “With me.”

“Yes.” I did say that.

“Why?”

“Why?” I repeat. She needs clarity on that? “I thought the why was clear.”

“The thing is, Davis…”

Hell. This is going from bad to worse.

“More could mean a lot of things,” I interrupt. “More could mean you have my key or stay the whole weekend. More could mean trips together. More could mean…” Marriage, kids, a future. “Whatever we want it to mean,” I finish lamely. I don’t want to spook her. Given the dark circles under her eyes, I might be too late.

“I’ve seen the more. I’ve witnessed firsthand when love leads to destruction, then to compromise, and then to ambivalence. Every stage is uglier than the last.”

She’s talking about her parents.

“You’ve seen one version of it, Gracie.”

“You’ve seen another,” she fires back.

“And I’m willing to try again.”

Her eyes widen in alarm. “You can’t mean…marriage?”

“Breathe.” I grip her arm. I can’t not touch her. She leans into me despite her uncertainty. “I don’t want to get married. Not yet. But in the future, who knows? I’m willing to see what happens. We haven’t exactly been sticking to the script here.”

Everything about Grace and me is different.

“You love me; I love you. We’ve got this.” I wrap my arm around her but she twists away.

“I don’t—” Her fists are curled in the sleeves of her sweatshirt. She shakes them at me. “I shouldn’t have said it back.”

“Grace.” The word is a warning. I’m not playing around with this and neither should she. Years ago my heart was destroyed, and it took a lot for me to get to this point. “Be very certain that you mean what you say next.”

She swallows, then meets my eyes. “What if we back off? What if I choose a package and we start from there?”

Her voice is infused with hope. Hope, while devastation wreaks havoc in my chest cavity.

“You’re serious.”

“It’s a good compromise.” She lifts her eyebrows.

Like I’m going to agree to this bullshit?

“I don’t want to offer you a package. I’m done with the way I used to date. I’m done taking out random women. I’m over being lonely.”

“You’re lonely and I’m convenient, is that it? The girl without a career or hobbies? The one woman who can seamlessly fuse into your life while leaving hers behind?”

Wait. What?

“What the fuck, Grace? I never said any of that.”

“You didn’t have to, Davis!” She bursts off the sofa. “You’re not in love with me, admit it. I’m another challenge for you to overcome.”