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“Hey!”
“And that you want him bad.”
My pulse spikes. “I don’t—”
“You do. Lie to me if you want, but don’t lie to yourself, Iv.”
Grimacing, I press my cold fingers to my eyes. They feel too hot. Prickles are forming behind my lids.
“It’s for the best. Us cooling things down. I’m leaving for London anyway.”
“And yet you told me you don’t want to work with Mom. So why go away? Stay here for a while, Ivy. I know I’d love it. Dad would too.”
“Which bring us to the fact that he’s going to work with Dad,” I say weakly. “He wasn’t happy about the idea of me being with Gray.”
“So the fuck what? Have you ever considered that Dad might be more worried about you getting with that hot-ass mountain of man sex than the possibility of losing Gray as a client?”
“What? No.”
“Oh, please. He’s still our dad. And he’s never liked us going out with anyone. You just made it easy for him because you never really cared before.”
I clench the back of my aching neck. “Look, it doesn’t matter what Dad thinks. Or where I live. Not really. Gray... Shit, Fi. He’s my best friend. What if I tell him I want to take it further, be exclusive, and he doesn’t? Or if we do get together and it ends? I can’t lose him.”
But I already am, and it’s killing me.
Fiona’s silence is like a condemnation.
“Why do you think it will end?” she finally asks.
“Oh, come on,” I whisper brokenly. “He’s a football star and will soon be an even bigger one. The odds are stacked against us.”
“Not all men cheat.”
I flinch, her words like a slap. I’d meant that our lives were on divergent paths, and Gray doesn’t even believe in relationships.
“I don’t think he’ll do that,” I say.
“But you fear it.”
Suddenly I don’t have the strength to stand. My ass hits the stool hard, and I stare off, not seeing my kitchen but the past.
Fi and I witnessed the fights. Heard the phone calls when Mom tried to find out where he was. The hideous sound of Mom crying behind her bedroom door when Dad didn’t come home. I was ten when they divorced. Even then, I’d vowed never to let a man do that to me.
Did I really think Gray would be like Dad? Did I put that on him?
“Shit.” The sides of my throat hurt, as if a hard hand is squeezing it. I lick my dry lips, wanting Gray more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Everything is clear and pure when he’s with me. Without him, it’s all static.
“Call him, Ivy,” Fi whispers into the phone. “Let him in.”
My voice sounds like a frog’s when I can speak. “I’ve got to go.”
By the time I hang up with Fi and dial Gray’s number, my fingers are shaking. I don’t know what I’m going to say to him. Come back to me. I need you might scare him. I was a chicken. A big ol’ special sauce covered chicken is probably better.
The call goes straight to voice mail. And when I text, telling him that I need to talk to him, he doesn’t respond.
Gray
“He’s not eating, Drew. It’s beginning to freak me out.”
