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I feel a little twinge of something in my chest. I wish I had a mom who checked in daily with me. It’s been months since I’ve communicated with my own mother.
I shake off the thought as I set the timer. At eleven in the morning tomorrow—and every day, on repeat—he’ll get a reminder: Are you thinking about Ava?
It’s not a prank, per se, but more of a way to make sure I don’t leave his mind for too long. All part of the grand plan to show him how irresistible I am.
“Are you spying on him?” Victoria asks, leaning across the table with wide eyes.
I shake my head, and I flash her the phone to show her what I just did.
“Oh my God, that’s genius. Trav, gimme your phone.”
He rolls his eyes but hands it over dutifully. “Like I need the reminder.”
They seriously are couples’ goals. They just seem to be so in tune with each other, and that’s all I want—somebody who looks at me like I hung the moon. Somebody who would do anything to make me happy. Somebody who gives me butterflies.
Somebody like Grayson Nash.
Grayson’s phone is long off when he returns, and I hope he texts me tomorrow when the timer goes off with the reminder.
Grayson is chatting away with everybody, and I have yet another early day tomorrow. I think I’m ready to call it a night, but I’m sandwiched into the booth with Grayson carrying on and on about something football-related that goes completely over my head. He’s talking to Patrick across the table, and they’re both laughing while I’m lost.
“I need to get going,” I finally say when there’s a break in the conversation.
“Okay.” He starts to scoot out of the booth, but then he leans in toward me. “Do you need a ride home?”
I turn to Kelly and whisper, “Are you staying?”
She nods. “If it’s okay.”
“Of course. Shoot your shot, bitch.”
She giggles, bids me goodbye, and turns back to Austin.
“I’m heading home solo, but if you’re offering a ride, I’ll take it,” I say to Grayson, raising my brows.
What I’m really looking for here is a ride back to his place followed by another ride on him, but I’ll take what I can get.
Chapter 26: Grayson Nash
Typically My Cock Has the Final Say
I could’ve just sent her home in her own Uber, and I probably should have. But then I think of what Beckett would want me to do, and ultimately I decide he’d want me to make sure she got home okay.
I need to get him out of my head. It’s too conflicting to think what he’d want me to do when what I really want to do to her would not top his list of priorities.
Nor would it be protecting her.
So I slide into the backseat with her as the driver heads toward her place, and I recall the last time we rode in the back of a car together.
Fuck. I should’ve taken the seat up front.
My cock is begging for this girl, but my brain keeps trying to slow me down. It’s a big conflict, and typically my cock has the final say. But this is different.
She is different.
She has no idea the power she holds over me—the same power I’m trying to slowly back away from. I don’t want to hurt her. I can’t hurt her. But I’m afraid I already have.
“You okay?” she asks quietly.
