When Our Worlds Stand Still (Our Worlds #3)(27)

Graham jumps over the back of the couch. Rick stands at his quick movement, and steps between the two of them. I freeze, unsure how I can help alleviate the situation.

“What the fuck do you mean you two never …” Graham yells.

“We never hooked up like that, man.” Mark shrugs, sitting back down next to Bea, whose expression screams relief mixed with nervousness.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Graham looms over Rick’s shoulder, pointing down at a calm Mark.

“Does it really matter?” Mark points at Graham, and then to where I stand, stunned quiet. “Who cares if I didn’t tell you, or she didn’t tell you. She’s right there. She’s in front of you, so why does it matter?”

“I wasted a lot of time being jealous and hating you,” Graham states, falling back a step. Rick sits back down on the couch when he feels it’s safe.

“You had no business being jealous of me. Ever. She was never mine, and we both know it.” Mark leans over and whispers in Bea’s ear. She stands, and they scurry out of the room, but not before she throws a sympathetic smile over her shoulder.

Violet and Dan follow their lead a beat later.

“Let’s go find something to do.” After a little coaxing from Amanda, Rick stands.

“You mean I don’t get to watch this unfold?” Rick grumbles.

Graham’s stare burns into me, and I don’t dare look away.

“I’ll fill you in.” She nods toward the kitchen. “Make me a sandwich or something.”

“You sure are controlling.” Rick rolls his eyes.

“You have no idea,” Graham and I say in unison, making us laugh.

A fraction of the tension lifts from the room. I fall back to the overstuffed couch. Once we’re alone, Graham sits beside me.

“Why haven’t you been with anyone else?” He takes a dramatic breath and releases it in a rush.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I clutch a pillow to my chest as a form of armor, hoping it will protect me from this conversation.

“Enlighten me, then, because I don’t understand.”

“I’ve never felt more precious than I did with you in my bedroom. You consume me, Graham.” I smile, remembering the moment I gave everything over to him. “And then, Craig ripped it all away. I think I was in a fog until I got to the city. Nothing made sense. My choices weren’t mine, and my actions certainly weren’t mine, Graham. I was a mess of a body trying to wing a recovery. A recovery that may never come. It took stepping away from that town, and you, to figure it out.” I shake my head at how hard this may always be. “But if I’m being honest, the only time I’ve ever felt safe with my vulnerability is with you. Why would I belittle what we had with a revolving door of faceless guys?”

“To help you forget,” Graham answers. Everyone hopes for victims like me to forget.

He’s right. I easily could’ve taken that path. I know a lot of girls who have. For me, it wouldn’t have silenced the demons. It would’ve only made them scream louder.

I stand from the couch to find a distraction. This conversation is heading into deep water, and I’m afraid of drowning. “I don’t want to forget. Forgetting means I lose who I’ve become. I like who I am today, yesterday, and tomorrow. She’s who I’m meant to be.” I trail my fingertips over the bookshelves.

“Who is she?” He vaults over the back of the couch and stands directly in front of me, blocking my wandering eyes.

“Do you really want to know?” A tiny smile plays on my lips, and I laugh. “She’s messy and damaged and a whole lot of confused, Graham, and she may not be worth the trouble.”

His soft hands run over my hips, and he takes a small step to close the gap between us. The air thickens, filling the room with desire. Graham leans down, his lips resting against my ear. “Your demons don’t scare me, Kennedy. I have a set of my own, and they’re more than willing to play nice with yours, as long as you’ll have them.”

I wrap my arms around his shoulders. His hands are quick to find their home around my waist. “They’ve been rather lonely, so I don’t understand why it would hurt to invite an old friend in.”

“Why don’t we forget about everything for tonight?”

“How can we do that?” I question, leaning against the sofa.

“The hot tub, of course.” He grins, but I don’t smile back. “What?”

“I didn’t bring a suit,” I admit.

“Yes, you did.” Violet bursts into the room. “Remember, Ken, you made me pack the black bikini?”

“Thanks, Violet. You can leave now.” Remembering the scrap of fabric, I shudder.

“I’m always here to help.” Violet bows, salutes us, and runs off.

“Violet hasn’t lost any of her flare since high school,” Graham states as she prances down the hallway.

“It hasn’t been that long since high school. We can’t put too high of an expectation for maturity on her.” I laugh at the idea of a fully mature Violet. The world will be a less humorous place when she decides to tamp down her wicked ways.

A strange silence falls between us, but neither of us does anything to rectify it. Instead, we inspect each other. Lust overcomes me. I bite down on my bottom lip. Graham releases the pressure with his thumb.