Page 27 of Deceiving Grier

“I thought you were working until nine tonight?” I called, but there was no response.

That was weird, I thought. In the time I’d known Jett, I’d never seen the guy ignore someone. For that matter, I couldn’t think of a time when I’d ever seen him quiet.

“Jett?” I knocked lightly on his door. When there was no answer, I pushed it open wide enough to see inside.

Grier might have thought I was a slob, but Jett’s room mademinelook spotless by comparison. His bed was unmade, covers in a heap on the floor mingling with the piles of dirty laundry and stacks of books and crumpled paper. No wonder he complained about losing things so often—just this week, he’d been trying to find his notes for an assignment and a lost textbook. I was surprised he could do anything in here.

I turned away from Jett’s room and went downstairs, but there was no sign of Jett in the living room, kitchen, or bathroom. I even checked my room and the study, but no one was there.

“This is nuts,” I muttered. I knew I’d heard someone. Jett’s ghost? “Don’t be stupid.”

Still, I marched back upstairs, determined to figure out what in the hell I’d heard while I’d been in the attic. There had to be a reasonable explanation for the clear sound of footsteps in the hall that had nothing to do with ghosts or any other paranormal explanations.

I opened the door to Grier’s room and peeked inside. It was the complete opposite of Jett’s room—bed made and nothing out of place. Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I would have had a hard time saying anyone lived there at all.

I closed Grier’s door and backed into the middle of the hallway, listening for any signs of life in the otherwise silent house, but all I could hear was the rain pelting against the roof and windows every time the wind gusted outside.

Could that be all that I heard? Just the wind and the rain, then convinced myself it sounded like footsteps.

I had already been keyed up and feeling guilty, worried that Jett or Grier would find me in the attic and the truth would be out.

Let’s face it, Jett and Grier had long since stopped feeling like sources for a story, crossing the line into friends. Which made me being here, in this house with ulterior motives, feel more like lying. It was getting harder and harder to compartmentalize my friendship with Grier and Jett and my story—especially since Grier and I had fucked.

Still, I probably would have had a better chance of convincing myself that I’d imagined the sound of someone in the house if I could remember whether or not Jett’s light had been on and his door cracked open when I passed his room on my way to the way to the attic.

The sound of the front door opening and closing jerked me from my thoughts, and I bolted down the stairs. If there was someone in the house, there was no way in hell I would miss them this time. I hadn’t just imagined that sound.

At the bottom of the stairs, I found Grier looking pale and gaunt, hair dripping from the rain. Dark circles smudged the skin beneath his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Grier, are you okay?” I asked.

He nodded, straight brows pulling into a frown. “Are you? You came tearing down those stairs like someone was chasing you.”

Heat crept into my face. “I thought I heard something.”

Grier’s frown deepened. “What?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter,” I said, waving my hand. I already felt like an idiot for chasing imaginary footsteps all over the house, and I really didn’t want anyone to know. “I’m glad you’re home, though. We haven’t really had a chance to talk since the other night. You’re not embarrassed or uncomfortable or anything, are you?”

He shook his head, his eyes widening a little in surprise. “No. My god, no. Everything was good. Really good. I liked it.” Red crept into his face, and he shrugged helplessly. “It’s just with classes and practice, I’ve been so busy, plus my dad sent me some more stuff.” He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I’m not keeping up.”

Irritation prickled the skin at the back of my neck. I didn’t know Grier’s father, and everything I had to base an opinion on had derived from what Grier told me—though what he didn’t say told me more. Still, even without ever having met the man and watching Grier run himself ragged to please him, I felt fairly comfortable assuming I wouldn’t like him.

“Have you eaten?” I asked. I wasn’t sure why I had the urge to take care of this guy. I recognized he was a grown-ass man. Still, there was something about the sight of him looking deflated and exhausted that made me want to dosomethingto ease the tension tightening his features. Maybe because Grier never seemed to take care of himself. He was always so wrapped up in looking after everyone else, trying topleaseeveryone else, looking after himself always ended up on the bottom of his own to-do list.

He shrugged. “I grabbed something after practice. I’m okay.”

“Are yousure? You look tired.”

He scrubbed both hands down his face. “It’s been a really shitty day.”

“I can help you, you know.” His eyes flared, green irises darkening. “If you want, you could come to my room, and I can help take the edge off.”

He didn’t answer right away, probably considering all the things he needed to do tonight. He moistened his lips, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to close the short distance between and taste those lips, his mouth. My cock perked up at just the thought.

Then, to my surprise, Grier nodded. “Yeah, I’ll come to your room.”

Chapter Eleven

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