Page 40 of Deceiving Grier

I wasn’t convinced, but that wasn’t even my biggest issue just then. “You need to explain how in the hell you went from wanting to interview us to moving in.”

“Jett confused me for some guy he’d been talking to about the room, and I took the situation as an opportunity. I thought you guys would be more likely to open up if you saw me as one of you.”

The admission caught me like a punch to the gut, stealing my breath.

“Sure, I get it,” I said, doing my best to swallow down the sudden ache gripping my throat. “You figured we would tell you everything we knew about Greyson, every dirty secret we knew about the man if we were friends.”

Sawyer frowned, looking uneasy. “Yeah, that was the plan.”

“If we were close,” I added, but he didn’t respond. He just watched me uneasily.

“If we werefucking,” I pushed.

His eyes widened, nearly bugging out of his head. “What? No! Not that. Never that.”

I either wanted to throw up or stand under the spray of a scalding hot shower, maybe both.

How had I been so goddamn stupid? I’d just been another step to getting his story, getting what he wanted. He’d used me, and I’d practically begged him to do it.

“Jokes on you, though,” I said, hating the way my voice rasped. “I don’t know anything about Greyson Mackenzie. So, I guess you screwed me for nothing.”

Chapter Sixteen

Sawyer

Iknewwhenthetruth came out, when I finally admitted the real reason I had moved into this house, Grier would be pissed, but I hadn’t expected the hurt and betrayal I saw etched into his face now. To be fair, this wasn’t exactly how I’d envisioned telling him. I’d planned to break it to him slowly—after I had proof that Greyson Mackenzie had been involved in the fire that burned down his last house. I couldn’t have guessed that Grier would accidentally come across my notes. And I sure as hell hadn’t expected him to believe for even a second that I’d been fucking him for information to use in my story.

“Grier, I know how it this looks,” I said carefully, gripping the arms of the chair behind my desk to keep from doing anything stupid like trying to go to him. I wanted to touch him, pull him against me, but I hadn’t missed how he’d backed away the last time I tried. “But you have to believe me. You and me together had nothing to do with my story. Everything I said about us was true. I like you. Ireallylike you.”

“That’s great,” Grier said, flatly. “The thing is, I don’t think I likeyouanymore.”

My throat squeezed. Shit, I’d fucked this up so badly. His words were like a sucker punch, catching me in the middle and knocking the breath from my lungs.

I couldn’t lose this. I couldn’t lose him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied about the room,” I said. “I should have told you everything before we got together, but I had already lied to you, and I didn’t know how to dig my way out.”

“What exactly do you think Greyson’s done?”

“You have to admit, everything Mackenzie’s done since his father died has been sketchy as hell. There wasn’t even a funeral. I mean, has he even been to The Squareoncesince his father died?”

Grier jerked a shoulder. “I don’t know. I think maybe right after the fire.”

Not great to back the argument that Mackenzie hadn’t been involved, but I kept the thought to myself.

“So what? This big story you’re working on is about Greyson being an inattentive landlord?” Grier asked.

We both knew that wasn’t it. The thing was, before I moved in here, I had plans. Istillhave plans. I was leaving, going to New York, determined to work at a daily newspaper, but I needed something to help me stand out. And a few months ago, Greyson Mackenzie had seemed like my ticket. Now though, it just didn’t feel quite as important as it had been then. Not while Grier’s furious gaze bored into mine and panic clawed at my chest.

“Look, even you have to admit there’s something going on with Mackenzie. Do you really think it’s just a coincidence that your house burned down under mysterious circumstances, and now Mackenzie is trying to change the designation for the property from residential to retail?”

Grier rolled his eyes. “He plans to build an art gallery.”

“Why? Why now? Why would he do that out of the goodness of his heart when he couldn’t even be bothered to go to his own father’s memorial or look into any of the properties his father left him until one of them burned down?”

“So, you think his big plan was to burn down our house just to build an art gallery? That seems like a stretch.”

I shook my head. “No, I think his plan was to burn down your house, claim he intended to build an art gallery, change the property’s designation from residential to retail to increase the property’s value and then sell it to developers without building any art gallery.”

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