Page 14 of Gravity

Absolutely fucking breath-taking.

“Shortcake,” I smile.

“Hey, Gray.” Her sweet voice is like warm honey and it covers my body like a satisfying blanket—a reaction I’ve not felt in a long time. “Miss me?” she asks, but I catch the hint of sarcasm in her tone.

God yes. I’ve missed her.

“Of course.”

She looks back at Asher. “You look like shit. You both do.”

“Yeah,” Asher chuckles. “I made Gray get stupid drunk with me last night.”

Her eyes dart from his to mine and concern coats her ocean blues. “But you hardly drink.”

I want to say I hardly do anything anymore other than work. I want to say that times have changed. I want to say that I can’t stop fucking thinking about her, but what good will that do? So, I reply with the only true answer I have. “It just happened.”

Stepping closer, she looks at me, and I know she’s trying to read me—she’s always been damn good at that—but I’m hoping my recent absence has enabled me to hide my desire for her. If she knew what I’m carrying in my heart right now—not just for her but the guilt I hold—it will only blow up in my face.

All I see when I look at her is hurt. I’ve hurt her, and it fucking crushes me.

“Do I get a hug from my little lady?” I ask. I open my arms out hoping she will come to me when all I really deserve from her right now is a fucking slap. I can sense her reluctance, but she steps into my embrace regardless and the electricity that races through my body is undeniable. Tingles cover me from head to toe from her touch, and her proximity elicits a longing I can’t comprehend. It’s right here that I know I’ve lost whatever battle I’ve started with myself when it comes to her.

As her arms circle my waist, I nuzzle my face into her hair and secretly hope that this little reunion will be enough and that no questions will be asked, but the words she whispers next spark something deep inside, causing my mind to race with all the possibilities—all the things that can never be—and memories of a past I know she’s going to make me relive.

And I don’t think I want that.

“I’m home, Grayson.”

Chapter Five

Nora

He looks tired. Not just from a night of too much drinking but an exhaustion that suggests he’s been struggling more than he’s willing to admit. The man who once had a clean-shaven jaw and bright blue eyes has now become one with a five o’clock shadow and a look of anguish covering his features. His smile doesn’t make his eyes sparkle like I remember. That being said, he’s still as intoxicating as ever, and being in his strong arms somehow signifies the fact that I’m home.

Closing my eyes, I listen to his heartbeat, getting lost in the embrace I’ve craved for too long. Although his avoidance has been intermittent, and other times it’s often felt deliberate, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. But with everything that he has been through, I’m willing to push that aside. Except, when he steps out of my hold and refrains from giving me eye contact, I suddenly feel cold.

“So, you boys have been out living the Virginia life then?” I ask Asher, needing to break the unease that’s just hit.

“Yeah. I tried to get Gray to relax a little,” he replies. “Only took him a few whiskeys and about four hours of persuasion.”

“I told you I wasn’t in the mood. And the way I’m feeling right now, I wish I never changed my mind.”

“Pussy,” Asher snorts.

Our attention is brought to Mom pulling up in the drive. She’s been on a long shift at work so will no doubt head off to bed once she’s had something to eat.

“Ah, my boys are back,” she beams, heading toward us. “Are you here for breakfast?”

“Gray and I have already eaten, but if there’re pancakes going, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Well, why doesn’t that surprise me? You’ve always been such a big eater.” She kisses my brother on the cheek and turns to Grayson. With a smile, she grabs hold of his arms and studies him for a moment, and I wonder if she, too, can see the change in him. “Grayson, my dear boy. It’s great to see you.”

“You too, Fiona. Sorry I haven’t been around much. Work has been crazy.”

I question if that is true or if he’s just using it as an excuse to hide behind. I don’t know the true depths of the life leading up to Sandie’s death, only that it got to the point where her alcoholism was the route to her passing. Even then, Grayson had kept those cards close to his chest.

“Are you coming in for some pancakes, too?” Mom asks, a slight plea in her voice. “Pete would love to see you. It’s been too long.” I can sense Grayson’s hesitation as he shifts on his feet.