Play It Safe(74)

Gray closed the toilet lid, flushed it, sat on it and leaned his elbows into his knees before he begged, “Dollface, talk to me.”

“He had money,” I told my bent knees, curling them closer, wrapping one arm around.

“Get outta that corner, honey, come with me. We’ll talk in the other room.”

I didn’t move.

“He had money. A lot of money,” I semi-repeated.

“Ivey –”

My eyes stayed glued to my knees. “I thought he’d stolen it. Now I don’t know. I don’t know where he got it.”

Gray was silent.

I kept talking.

“He said they were after him, us. They’d beaten him badly. I saw that. But months we were on the run. He never pushed the hustle. Never asked for money. Never dropped a con. I looked through his stuff and found the money. I just thought he stole it.”

“Please, baby, let me come to you, get you off this floor.”

I ignored him.

“I never saw them. He told me they were following us but I could spot a tail. I was better at it than him. He was acting weird. All over me. Never left me alone. Never. Never let me get near a phone. Twitchy. God, so damned twitchy. It freaked me out.”

“Right, Ivey, I’m comin’ to you.”

I kept ignoring him even as my ass was suddenly off the bathroom floor, Gray’s was on it and mine was in his lap.

I held my towel to my mouth, looked into his eyes and kept talking.

“Something was up with him,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Gray whispered back, holding me close, holding my eyes, his holding clear concern as he kept his gaze locked to mine.

“I never got it. Never. In the end, I thought he’d made his play just to get me back so we could go on the hustle again because he couldn’t make it without me. But I don’t think it was that. I don’t know what it was but all that money, Gray. I don’t think it was that.”

“So you got shot of him and came back to me,” Gray said quietly.

I nodded vaguely. “I promised you in the note that when the danger was gone, I would. But I can sense danger, Gray, and as we ate up the miles, town to town, state to state, days into weeks, I never felt it. We weren’t being followed. Casey lied to me. The way he was acting, all over me, all sweet to me, but watchful, jittery, it wasn’t right. I couldn’t get a lock on it then I thought I figured it out. I stole his car, left him behind and I went back to you.”

Gray closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tile.

Then he opened them and looked at me. “And you saw me with Chandler.”

Tears filled my eyes and I nodded.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, staring at me.

“I thought you saw my note and didn’t care. I thought you moved on. I thought you didn’t want my hassle. I thought you didn’t care I had bad men after me. I thought,” a tear slid out of my eye, “I thought you didn’t care.”

“I loved you, Ivey, and I thought you cleared out on me.”

“I wrote you a note.” My voice broke on those words.

He pulled in breath then sighed.

Then he asked, “That f**kin’ brother of yours, he have the opportunity to grab that note?”

I thought about it and nodded but added, “He couldn’t grab my stuff, though, Gray. And I left stuff. Not a lot of it but it meant something to me. I worked for it, earned it. My skirt, my dress, my heels. I wouldn’t leave that behind. I wouldn’t leave you behind.”

“Fuck, I wish you’d have f**kin’ come to me,” he growled.

“Casey said they had guns. Said they’d shoot you. I couldn’t go to you.”

“Okay, then, I wish you’d have f**kin’ come to me when you got back.”

“You were with another woman,” I reminded him.

“She was my cousin, Ivey, and you knew me better than that.”

“You were my first kiss,” I blurted, he blinked and his arms spasmed around me.

Then he whispered, “What?”

“You weren’t just my first lover, Gray, you were my first everything.”

That pain I saw earlier slashed through his features and his arms again spasmed but stayed tight around me.

I kept talking.

“I wasn’t experienced enough. I thought I wasn’t…” I shook my head. “I was a pool hustler virgin who you’d given her first kiss at age twenty-two. You were too good for me, I knew it and I figured you figured it out too so you moved onto better.”

“Baby, f**k,” he hissed on a near snarl, his eyes narrowing and his arms going super tight. “there was nothin’ better than you.”

And right then, yes again, I lost it.

Six words that held the impact of a nuclear bomb disintegrating years of work building a wall to protect my heart. All of that gone, demolished, rubble at…six…words.

There was nothin’ better than you.

But I didn’t lose my temper or lose my mind or blurt my beloved friend’s secrets.

I lost hold on my emotions. Tears sliding from my eyes, body wracked with sobs, I fell face first into his shoulder and just cried.

Gray gently pulled the towel from my grasp, got up from the bathroom floor and took me with him. Then he moved us out of the bathroom as a whole. Then we were down on the bed, Gray’s back to the headboard, me held close, his arms tight, his knees cocked, cocooning me in all things Gray.