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She’s quiet—too quiet—and I wonder if my near slip has freaked her out. I cut my eyes toward her, worried I upset her. She stares at her hands, blue eyes misting with unshed tears, and fuck I hate it. I cannot handle her tears. I’m two seconds from pulling over despite there not being anywhere to pull over when she turns her head. She swipes her fingers under her eyes and clears her throat. “Okay,” she whispers.
“Okay.” Silence fills the car, and though it’s not truly awkward, it bothers me. After several endless seconds, I break it. “You saidyou had a statement.”
“I did.”
When she sniffles, continuing to look out the window, I prod. “Don’t keep me in suspense, Sunflower. What is it?”
“That I have no idea who you are.”
She says it so low, I almost think I imagined it except it’s not the first time she’s said it.
That she believes it is aggravating, but I understand why she thinks it. I reach over, taking her hand, and lacing her fingers through mine. “I know this will sound absurd, but you know me better than anyone.” Her intake of breath tells me she’s about to argue, so I quickly continue. “I know you think I showed you a different version of me, but you are the only one who ever got the real me. I might have censored myself, but I told you everything.”
“That can’t be true.”
I glance at her, and her face is full of doubt that I’m not sure how to alleviate. It does sound unbelievable, a grown man confiding in a child. But it was often easier telling her about my day, my thoughts, my plans, or whatever I needed to get off my chest because I knew there would be no judgment.
I wanted to prove myself to the world as more than the son of Maxwell Davis or the grandson of Simon Davis and James Mahoney. That I was more than a trust fund and a silver spoon getting rich off the talent of other men. I was terrified of being a disappointment to my mother’s memory because I didn’t inherit her musical ability.
With Casey, I had nothing to prove. She looked at me like I hung the sun and the moon. Maybe that makes me a narcissist.
Maybe she just doesn’t remember everything I’ve told her. “Youknow everything important, baby.”
She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen this side of you. This demanding, controlling possessiveness. You threatened Devon,” she whispers as if someone might hear. “You were never like that before.”
“Wasn’t I?” I laugh loudly. “It might’ve seemed more protective than possessive back then, but it was always there, Sunflower. Remember when I was the one who drove you to your first dance with that punk ass Lambert kid?”
“I forgot about that. Probably because it was my only dance. I never got asked to another.” I wince, knowing that’s probably my fault. I tell her as much, watching her reaction. She waves me off, seeming less than convinced. I wish I were sorry, but I’m glad I kept those hormone-driven assholes away from her.
“Every guy you went out with in high school, or at least the ones I knew about, got the same message,” I confess.
“It didn’t matter,” she shrugs. “Mom paid them all to go out with me anyway, so it’s not like they were genuinely interested.”
“That’s a load of shit, Casey. Krista never paid for anyone’s attention to be on you. It goes against everything she is.”
“If you say so,” she mutters.
My nostrils flare as I roll my head over my shoulders. The hand wrapped around hers tightens as frustration builds.Calm down, Graham.
“I do, but that’s not the point,” I say through clenched teeth. “How I am—what you see—it’s the same as it’s always been. The intensity of it just… evolved. When you were younger, I had this need to protect you. Now, I have this fierce, insatiable, deranged need topossessyou.”
Fuck, even I can see the red flags waving.
I turn off the car and slide out of my seat. I walk around the rear to her door, gripping the handle. The click of the latch releasing echoes in the garage, and I pull it open, extending my hand. She takes it, blinking as she looks around as if realizing for the first time where we are. “Graham?”
I slip my hand behind her neck, bringing her close to me. My mouth slants over hers, and I groan. Her tongue as always is timid against mine at first, but it only takes a second before she explores my mouth as deeply as I search hers. I relish her sweet flavor, the innocence in every brush of our tongues. Practiced restraint pulls me back, but I keep my forehead pressed to hers. “We better get inside before I spread you on the hood.”
She looks at me with a knitted brow, concern etched on her face. “Is…”
My fingers press against her lips. “I would never bring you here if she were.” What I don’t tell her is that she won’t be coming back either.
“What about everyone else? I mean Maxwell and the staff,” she clarifies at my puzzled look. “What will they say?”
I smirk, turning and guiding us through the garage. My arm drapes over her narrow shoulders, pulling her to my side. “My guess is they won’t think anything at all.”
“But…”
“No buts, baby. Now let’s go see your little brother.”
