Fall From Grace(54)

Shane was still slumped over on my bed, but he at least looked up when I came back in.

“Did you wake up Conner?  Oh, God.  Grace, did you call the cops?”

I giggled at his absurdity.  “Shane, you are a real ass sometimes.”  I kneeled down in front of him and lifted his wet shirt over his head.  It stuck to him and he comically had trouble helping me get it off him.  “I have dry socks, boxers and pants for you too, but you need to dress yourself.”

Leaving him to get dressed, I went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of bottles of water, then to the closet for an extra pillow and blanket for the couch.

He walked into the living room as I was making up the couch for him to sleep on.  His face was drawn and broken.

“What?” I asked him exasperated.  “There’s no way you should be going home this intoxicated in the snow with no jacket on.”

He ran a hand through his gorgeously tousled hair, “I really screwed things up with our friendship, didn’t I?  You’re standing here looking at me the way you look at Tucker.”

I stopped what I was doing to look at him.  Strangely enough, I had not felt the same after Shane touched me.  With Shane I wanted more, I had to talk myself out of saying yes.  With Tucker, I knew I never wanted him to touch me again. With Shane, the only real reason I held back were those ancient blue eyes that I clung to looking for.  That and the fact that Shane was a man-whore. I laughed at myself for the thought.

“Why are you laughing at me?” he asked.

“Shane, you can’t ruin a friendship if you were only pretending to be my friend to get into my pants.”

His face darkened.  He stormed toward me and grabbed my wrist.  His touch didn’t match his facial expression. It was soft and pleading.  He led me back to my bedroom.  When we reached my door, he stopped and brought my wrist up to his lips and softly kissed it.  Chills ran down my spine, his breath hot on my skin.  He lifted his lips from my skin and I swear I felt pain from the separation.  His hand still holding mine, he caressed the soft sensitive skin of my wrist, looking down at it.  My breath caught.

“You have a tattoo?”

I said nothing.  But, I watched as his features changed again; this time to drunk confusion.  He’d be too drunk to notice anything but my tat.  I hope.

His thumb lightly swept over my wrist and stopped.  His eyes looked in mine, flickering in and out of focus.  “It’s covering up a scar?”  He grabbed my other wrist fumbling for it, and I didn’t fight him.  Maybe if he saw what I had done, he’d think I was psychotic and he’d leave me alone.

“Why would you do that?” His voice was no louder than a whisper.

Taking my wrists back, I held them to my chest.  “You know, Shane, the people that walk around you every day?  Each of them has a life separate then you.  Pasts, pains, loves and losses.  You don’t know me.  I am a hell of a lot more than a fifteen-minute screw, and sadly, most of your other friends are too. You just don’t ever see that from between their legs.”

He softly traced the edge of my jaw with his index finger.  “Goodnight, Grace,” he said as he wobbled back to the living room.

I closed my door quietly and made sure I locked it.




Chapter 9

Shane was still sprawled out over the couch when I woke up the next morning at 10 o’clock.  It was still so early that it would be really mean of me to kick him out, but late enough that I was stuck alone with him since Conner and Lea were at work.