Beyond What is Given(51)

“Absolutely,” I said to Paisley. Grayson was still staring at me, utterly unreadable, like a stranger. Like he hadn’t had his tongue in my mouth and his hand inside my panties an hour ago. “It was really nice to meet you,” I repeated like a freaking parrot as I took my Coke, and then let Paisley pull me down to the beach.

“You okay?” she asked as we crossed the wooden walkway to the beach.

“I’m so glad I was an only child.” I stopped dead in my tracks. “Holy shit. Paisley, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Could I stick my foot in my mouth any more?

She shrugged. “Peyton had her moments of being a pain in the rear.” She nodded to where Jagger, Will, and Morgan had commandeered the volleyball net. “Let’s forget about…everything.”

That was something I could go for.

We played as the sun set behind us, the colors dancing pink off the channel. Even Paisley jumped in for a few minutes, much to Jagger’s disapproval. She’d had her heart surgery three months ago, but he still hovered.

I felt his eyes on me before I saw him, as though the intensity he radiated traveled the thirty feet that separated us. He leaned against the wood railing of the walkway, looking over at me with walls up and locked away.

I picked up my sandals from where I’d left them and climbed the steps to where he stood, leaning my back on the railing so I could see him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” His eyes darted toward mine before wandering back to the channel. Every line in his body was rigid, tense, and utterly breathtaking. The shiver that caught me by surprise wasn’t just because of the falling temperature.

I rested my hand on his forearm and winced when he pulled it away.

“People are starting to leave,” he muttered.

“Okay,” I answered. “Would you like us to head out?” Say no.

His jaw flexed, and he threw a look back over his shoulder when his name was called from the party. “Maybe that would be best. You guys can’t be having fun at this thing.”

He was sending us away. Because we didn’t belong in this part of his life. I didn’t belong.

I ignored the deep, dull ache in my chest and slipped my strappy sandals onto my feet and then folded my arms, rubbing my skin. “Okay, I’ll get everyone.” My legs felt shaky, or maybe the ground beneath me was simply moving.

“Is he okay?” Jagger asked while we walked the bridge back to the party that was swiftly dying.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” I said as we passed the bar and I spotted Grayson talking to Joey. “It’s like he’s an entirely different person here, and it’s more than the party. I get being pissed over the party, but the rest of him…he’s not Grayson, you know?”

Jagger nodded and threw an arm around my shoulders. “Sam, you’re one of the most genuine people I know. The good, the bad, you put it out there with no regrets and no apologies. But some of us…we’re not that easy. Sometimes we’re one person with our families and another once we’re out from under them.”

I watched as people said their good-byes to Grayson. He was stiff, formal, with a tight, closed-lip half smile. He was ten steps beyond the guy I’d met when I moved in.

“But which one is the real Grayson?” I asked.

Jagger glanced back to where Paisley walked between Morgan and Will. “In my experience, limited as it may be, he probably doesn’t know.”

“He always seems so steady.”

“Sometimes steady is just stuck, Sam.”

“Look at you, all wise,” I joked, elbowing him in the side.

“Yeah, well, the love of a good woman will do that for you.” He stopped us at the edge of the patio and turned to face me with his hands on my shoulders. “Grayson is a lot more grounded than I am and, oddly enough, a hell of a lot more damaged. But, Sam, I’ve never seen him as happy as he is around you. As relaxed. Don’t forget that.”

“You guys ready?” Paisley asked, slipping her arm around Jagger’s waist.

“Yeah,” I answered, shivering slightly when Grayson’s eyes met mine over the couple he was talking to. The older woman touched his arm, and he covered his hand over hers and turned his attention back to her.

“Why don’t you tell Grayson we’re leaving, and we’ll meet you in the car?” Will suggested.

I agreed, and they filed out, all stopping to thank Grayson’s mother for having them. Sick of hovering, I walked over to where the bright red paint of a classic convertible peeked out from under the carport between the support stilts of the house.

“Holy shit. Is that a sixty-six and a half…no way,” I whispered as my hand stroked over the immaculate paint job.

“It’s Grayson’s Mustang,” Mia answered. “He barely drives it, but it’s his.”

“It’s beautiful.” Classic, strong, and old-fashioned like Grayson. Even the dent on the right front panel. Just a little damaged. “What’s that from?”

“A lapse in judgment,” Grayson answered from behind me.

“I’ll give you guys a second,” Mia winked at me where Grayson couldn’t see, and skipped off.

“We’re heading out.” I turned, and Grayson stepped forward, effectively trapping me against the passenger door.