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“No. You sit here putting all sorts of unwarranted fears in my head, and it’s all because you’re afraid of losing Gray as a client!”
Dad stands as well, and the edges of his mouth go white. I brace myself for the explosion, knowing firsthand just how loud Dad can yell when he’s pissed.
Bring it on. I’m pissed too. But it doesn’t happen. No, his reaction is worse because he deflates. His wide shoulders wilt on a sigh as he sets his hands low on his hips and looks down.
“I need Grayson.” It’s almost a whisper. “There are things... Business isn’t what it used to be. Guys...they’re going to big-name firms. Salary caps, scandals, bad PR. It’s all taking a toll.”
A painful lump fills my throat. Dad has never talked to me like this. In all honesty, I don’t want to hear it. I used to think of him as Batman—questionable tactics, but on the whole, unbeatable and enduring. I cannot think of him as less.
“We’re just friends,” I whisper, as if saying it enough will somehow protect me from messing things up.
Absently, Dad nods. “Whatever you want to tell yourself, kid.”
His flippancy has me grinding my teeth. I kind of hate him right now for manipulating me. For putting Gray in the middle.
Dad sees it in my expression. He blanches, apparently shocked. “Ivy... It might not look like it, but I am always on your side. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Gray
My nerves are a twitchy mess. I keep thinking of the look in Mac’s eyes when, in a completely ill-advised play, I sprawled on top of her.
What would have happened if I had kissed her? She’d been...receptive. Hadn’t she? I’d wanted to. I’d never wanted to do something so badly in my life.
God, her lips had been too close to mine, too pretty, too pink, looking so soft and inviting and just fuck. The temptation to simply touch them with my own, to lick a path across that cute little heart-shaped mouth of hers, had been so strong that I still ache deep in my bones.
But then I blink and remember Sean Mackenzie glaring at me as if he’d been contemplating good places to hide my body. It makes me queasy.
I get where he’s coming from. Worse, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing in regards to Ivy anymore. She means so much to me it freaks me out, and I’m suddenly on some tightrope where the wrong step will send me plummeting.
On that happy note, I turn my truck around and drive away from my house.
I head to Palmers, hoping that someone will be there to shoot the shit and get my mind off having to eventually talk to Mackenzie. That discussion should be fun. I shudder just thinking of it.
I find Dex in the booth at the back of the bar. It’s a good spot, dark enough that the chances of being left alone on a busy night are decent but positioned at the right angle to watch the TV hanging over the defunct jukebox. Dex is sprawled along one side of the booth, his back against the wall, his legs hanging over the edge. He’s watching TV, and the place is quiet enough to hear Morgan Freeman’s deep voice roll on about the universe.
I slide into the opposite side of the booth. “Whatcha watching?”
Dex keeps his eyes on the TV, blue-and-purple light coming off it reflecting over his skin. “Entering a Black Hole.”
“Dude, you want to learn about anal, watch some porn like the rest of us.”
As hoped, his mouth twists and his nose wrinkles. “Hot sick has just surged up my throat.”
“‘Hot sick?’” I laugh. “That’s a new one.”
Rubbing his chest as if he really might be sick, he keeps his gaze on the program. “Don’t you have someone else to pester with really bad sex jokes?”
“Nah.” I reach for his beer, taking a swig before he can grab it back. “It’s your turn on the rotation.”
A waitress ambles over, stopping beside me. “Hey there, gorgeous. You need anything?”
“Yep. Give me a Shiner Bock and put it on his tab.” I grin at Dex, who sends me a sidelong glare but nods and goes back to his show.
The waitress stands there, not moving, and I shoot her a questioning look. She leans in until she’s brushing against my shoulder. “Anything else?”
“Nope. Wait!”
She hasn’t gone anywhere, so she grins. “Talk to me, handsome.”
