Page 29 of Fractured

“Right, honey bunches of oats?” Grayson says, turning to me. Oh, fuck no, he didn’t! Just because I zoned out on the conversation, doesn’t mean he can spout off a new horrible nickname.

Years of practice don’t help me in this moment when it comes to keeping my poker face. My lips curl down in a show of disgust. It only lasts a moment, but it’s long enough for Grayson to catch since he was waiting for my reaction. Amusement dances in his eyes. “Sorry, pooh bear. What were you saying?” I ask, not trusting him enough to blindly agree. For all I know, I’d be agreeing to move in with him tomorrow.

“I was just saying that we would love to join them sailing tomorrow, but we already have plans.” He smiles with glee, and I just know it’s because I’ve joined him in his game of shit-tastick nicknames. It may have started as a way to push me away, but it seems they have come to stay.

“Oh, I wish we could! Grayson just couldn’t postpone the wedding to a more reasonable timeframe. Four months isn’t nearly enough time to plan everything. I suppose I shouldn’t have taken sex off the table until we say I do,” I stage whisper behind my hand. Those around us chuckle, and the sound of clinking glass grabs our attention.

“Everyone! If we could have your attention. Dinner will be served in just a moment, if you could all make your way to your seats, we can start the celebration!” the hostess announces. Thank god. I’m starved, and could really use the break from smiling so hard.

I hate being the center of attention. Most of these events are bearable because I can sit back and observe the whole room. I have a knack for finding just the right place to overhear the best gossip or to see the most unlikely of individuals snorting a bump of coke. This time though, I’ve been unable to avoid the constant pull of conversation. Most people love talking about themselves non-stop, it’s how I get the attention off myself… tonight though, it didn’t work.

I slip off my heels and sigh as my feet touch the cold marble tiles of the posh bathroom floor. Normally, I wouldn’t allow my feet to touch such filth, but this bathroom doesn’t have even a speck of toilet paper on the floor and has had an attendant keeping it clean all night. I shouldn’t have worn such a new pair of heels to an event where I’d be standing most of the time. My feet throb and I can’t wait to slip on my favorite white Gucci kicks.

Slipping into my jeans and a light tank top, I touch up my makeup and entrap my feet once more. The night is almost coming to an end, not much longer. I quietly exit the bathroom trying not to draw any more attention my way before I’m able to exit the hotel. Making my way down the hall, I keep an eye out for Vander. He said he’d be waiting for me right outside the bathroom, but I don’t see him anywhere.

Just before I turn a corner to make my way to the lobby, I hear voices and pause. “Dude, you’ve been watching her for years and never made your move. What changed to finally make you man up?”

“I had no other choice. If I could have, I would’ve spent the rest of my life watching her from afar. She deserves better than someone like me,” Grayson replies. I suck in a sharp breath at finding him being so honest with someone who isn’t me. I don’t know why I expect him to be more honest with me than whatever friend he’s talking to. Although I can tell he isn’t telling them the full story either. One thing is for sure; he’s lucky his friend is a guy, or Grayson would have a front-row seat to my next murder.

“What are you talking about? You can’t tell me you aren’t stoked to be marrying her.”

“It’s complicated. Speaking of, I better go find her to say goodbye. See you later, man.” I quickly head back down the hall so it doesn’t look like I was eavesdropping. Moments after I turn back around, Grayson rounds the corner. There’s a troubled furrow to his brow and he’s rubbing the back of his head.

“Hey, dreamboat.” He jumps at the sound of my voice. Whatever pulled his thoughts sure has him distracted. My nickname doesn’t even gain a flicker of a smile this time.

“I’m heading out. I guess I’ll text you when we have to make any decisions with the wedding planner.” His posture sags. Defeat radiates from him, and I have no idea what caused it. He’s been so bright and jovial all night.

I close the distance between us before he can turn away. It’s one thing for him to be coy and hide things from me; it’s quite another when something apart from me has him acting this way. He’s mine now, and for better or worse, I’m the only one who gets to affect his emotions on this kind of level.

He watches my approach warily. “Grayson, what’s wrong?” I ask soothingly, hoping it will inspire him to actually answer me. Pausing in front of him, I run my hands up his chest and around his neck before leaning against him so our fronts are pressed together.

His hands instinctively land on my hips, pulling me tighter against him. “What are you doing, Remington?”

I give him a teasing smile, hoping to disarm him. “I can’t show my future husband some affection?”

“Of course you can,” he replies, glancing up and down the hall. “I’m just wondering where our audience is hiding.”

“What audience?” I quirk an eyebrow at him.

“The one you’ve been performing for all night. I’m not stupid, sweetpea. You’re not the affectionate type. So what is it you want?” His words say he doesn’t believe me, but his actions show he wants to.

“I don’t want anything. You’ve been happy all night and now all of a sudden you look like someone kicked your puppy,” I tell him, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead. “I just want to know what’s wrong. I do care about you, Grayson.” As much as I can anyway. I can honestly say I care about finding out his secrets. That’s pretty much the same thing.

“You’re not the only one who’s been performing for our audience. Don’t worry about it,” he says, trying to brush me off.

“It’s not nothing. Please, just tell me.” I stare into his gaze, willing him to tell me. A touch of Jasper’s honesty would be really nice right now.

“Fuck,” Grayson whispers under his breath. He hangs his head down, and I cup his cheek, forcing him to look at me again. I don’t say anything. He feels right on the edge of speaking up and I don’t want to distract him from it. I run a thumb over his lips and he presses a kiss against it. “I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. At least not all of it. Not the reason why I can’t have the thing I’ve wanted for years now.”

He swallows like there’s a lump in his throat. “What have you wanted for years?” I ask, trying to keep him going. He comes across as not knowing where to start, and still keep whatever the source of his distress is hidden.

His head tilts to the side, seeming to say I just asked the stupidest question. “You.” The one-word answer is said with so much conviction, it sends my mind spinning.

With a sardonic laugh, he continues, “You’re so observant, Remi. Always taking in the entire room, watching everyone. Cataloging every scrap of information you can about those around you. But you never once noticed the one person who couldn’t take their eyes off of you. I kept waiting for you to catch me and come over with all your confidence to ask what the fuck I was doing. But you never did, not until I tracked you down in the coffee shop. At that point, it was already too late. I knew I had to push you away. I couldn’t even have you once, while acting like myself, to let the memories last a lifetime. And yet you went ahead and reeled me back in any way. I don’t know how, but I’ll figure it out.”

My mind whips through all the information he shared. How could he think I never noticed him. Of course I did. Sure I missed how much he was fixated on me, but that’s because he’s always been such a playboy. I thought I was just a hottie he hadn’t yet conquered. “Figure what out?”

“I felt it, baby. We had that instant connection. I had you pressed against the wall and you were ready to give me the control you desperately need to make it through this life. Do you know how hard it was to fight off the desire to give you exactly what you needed from me? It killed me inside to make you think the worst of me. But I did it to protect you. I ruined everything, and you haven’t looked at me the same way since. Now you want me to share you—” He cuts himself off and rips himself from my hold.

---