Beyond What is Given(88)

It had almost been a year, and I was still in the same place I’d been in Colorado, in a sideline relationship with another woman’s man.

And for the first time, I felt every bit the whore those emails called me.





Chapter Twenty-Five


Grayson


A pencil smacked me on the back of the head. “Pay attention,” Jagger hissed.

Holy shit, I’d been lost in my own thoughts for the better part of ten minutes. I scrolled furiously through the notes, trying to catch up to where the instructor was now. How the hell had I let myself get so distracted? Oh, yeah, because I had three women at my house right now. One who thought I was still dating her, one who was pretending I wasn’t, and one I generally wanted to stick on the fastest plane out of here.

And I loved them all.

We were starting night training on Monday, it wasn’t like I could slack off now. I blocked out every thought except the academics in front of me and paid attention. Helicopters, I understood. They were machines that did what you told them to, excluding external variables.

It was the external variables that f*cked you up.

I somehow made it through class without dazing off again. “Earth to Grayson, you with me?” Jagger asked as we headed to the parking lot.

“I’m here.”

“Good, because I need your help,” he said as he climbed into the passenger side of my truck. Why didn’t we drive separately? I could have stopped into the gym and seen Sam. Grace left tonight, and I was so f*cking sick of sneaking around. I loved Sam, and I shouldn’t have to hide it.

But she’d told me to. What a f*cked-up situation.

I went to text her and swore when I saw my phone was dead.

“Masters!” Jagger waved his hand.

“Sorry? I’m a little distracted.”

“You think? Do you want me to drive?” he asked as I pulled onto the road.

“No.”

“Okay, because I’d really hate to die before I got the chance to ask Paisley to move in.”

“That’s right,” I said, driving home carefully as Jagger went into extreme details on proposal planning. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was carrying around the latest issue of Alabama Bride in his pubs bag.

“So do you think you can help?” he asked as I pulled into the driveway.

“Absolutely.” He was the closest thing I had to a brother, of course I was going to help.

“Sweet,” he said, swinging to the ground and shutting the door. “I’m off to her house, so wish me luck!”

“Good luck!” I saluted, and headed inside.

“Hi, Port,” Grace called from the couch. Her eyes were half open.

“Hey, Starboard. Were you napping?” I shut the door softly behind me.

“Kind of. Parker went out somewhere after she packed us to leave. Feel like reading to me?” She looked so damn hopeful.

“Sure, just give me a second.” I went upstairs and changed into cargo shorts, a T-shirt, and a zip-up hoodie, then came back down, my copy of The Odyssey in hand.

When I took a seat on the couch, she wiggled over, lying across my lap like we hadn’t skipped over the last five years, and assumed the Grayson’s-reading-to-me position we’d used since we were seven.

“Does it still help you to read?” she asked.

“Yeah. As long as I’m reading every day it seems to be easier.”

I started reading at the beginning. Tripping over the first passages as usual. Her forehead puckered. “Skip to the part you haven’t read yet.”

What? “Okay.” I skipped to book nine and began to read. When Grace shivered, I unzipped my hoodie and helped her into it. “Better?” I asked as I zipped it up.

“Much, thank you,” she replied. “I missed this, listening to you read to me.”

I brushed her hair back with my empty hand. “What do you remember?”

“While I was…out?”

“No, from before the accident.” She bit her lip. “No pressure. I’m just trying to figure out where your memory leaves off. Where your gaps are.” I ran my fingers across her forehead, and she relaxed. Some things never changed.

“I…I remember sailing. You, me, and Owen.”

“That was the day before. Is that where it cuts off for you?” I asked. She didn’t remember the fight…or what followed. God, I was going to have to experience it all over again, because she had to know.

She shook her head. “No, I remember being mad at you because you wanted to turn down the Citadel. You thought it was your responsibility to be with me at UNC.”

“Yes. You told me that if we loved each other, four years wouldn’t matter.”

“Did five years matter?” She leaned against my chest.

“Grace, these last five years weren’t normal years. They changed me in ways you wouldn’t have liked. In ways I still don’t like.”

“Don’t say things like that. I like you just fine.” Her eyes were level with mine as she sat up in my lap. “I’m so sorry for what happened. For what you’ve been through, but from what I’ve seen, you’ve come out on the other side stronger, more focused. Maybe a little less goofy, and you don’t laugh as much, but you’re still my Gray, my Port. And I’m still your Starboard.”