Page 42 of Deceiving Grier

I closed my eyes, pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead where a headache throbbed, and finally let the soft muscles of my legs give out. Slowly, I crumpled to the wood plank floor of the porch.

What the hell had just happened in there? How had I gone from a night alone with the guy I was seeing to everything I believed about him ripped open and left shredded around me?

God, I’d been so gullible. Sawyer must have been thrilled when he’d seen how desperate I’d been to be with him, how blindly I was willing to trust him. I’d never felt sostupidin my life.

I needed to get out of here, away from this house, away from Sawyer, and if I could, I’d even try to get away from myself. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. I forced myself to my feet, but hesitated before leaving the porch.

Where should I go? I could have walked down to The Dunes, but the idea of the crowds and loud music was about as appealing as a sharp stick to the eye. Wherever I did go though, I’d need to be able to walk there. I forgot to grab my car keys before leaving, and there was no way in hell I was going back inside.

All that self-righteous anger that had been coursing through me had started to thin, leaving an aching void in my chest and humiliation wrapped around me like a shroud. I was on the verge of falling apart, and I didn’t want to do that in front of Sawyer.

The hell with it, I would just walk. I’d figure out where I was going later. I left the porch, and when I reached the end of the driveway, I noticed the lights on over at Alister and Finn’s across the street. I jammed my hands into my pockets, bent my head against the frigid wind and hurried across the street, following the light glowing from their living room window like a beacon. Their place wasn’t big, a charming, story-and-a-half cottage painted blue with a sunroom on the side that Alistair used as a studio. At their door, I knocked and waited.

The sounds of music and happy voices and laughter seeped past the heavy wood door. Maybe coming here was a mistake, bringing my misery to Alistair’s happy life. But before I could change my mind and walk away, the door swung open, and Alistair stood on the other side of the threshold. Finn’s son, Will, clung to his back, and they were both grinning wildly, until Alistair’s gaze met mine and his wide grin dissolved. His previously happy expression morphed into concern. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

My eyes stung, and I could feel a tickle burning behind my nose. I swallowed hard. I wouldn’t cry, God damn it. Not over Sawyer. “Can I hang out?”

“Yeah, of course.” Alistair stepped back from the door so I could come inside.

“You remember my friend, Grier?” Alistair asked Will, as the boy slid off his back.

Will peeked out from behind Alistair’s legs and smiled shyly. “Hi.”

“Hey. How do you like your new school?”

“It’s good, I guess. I have three friends. Jack, Carter and Holly.” He counted out each of his friends on his fingers. “And I get to see a dog at recess.”

“But we don’t put our hands through the fence to pet dogs we don’t know, right?” Alistair said.

“Yeah,” Will said, looking away and shrugging before he skipped off into the living room.

“There’s a row of houses with yards backing onto the playground at his school,” Alistair explained. “And one of the houses has a dog.”

“You know he’s totally petting that dog through the fence,” I said.

Alistair sighed. “Yeah, we know.”

Despite how miserable I felt, I couldn’t help but grin. It was strange seeing Alistair in this new domestic life, but he was happy, and I was genuinely happy for him.

I followed him into the living room. Since moving in, Finn and Alistair had painted their living room a soft gray. There was a big, comfy sectional couch positioned in front of a cheery fire burning in the stone fireplace. Accents of dark orange and purple brought some color to the space, along with Alistair’s artwork on the walls. I recognized his slashing strokes and dark brooding colors. He really was talented.

“Hey,” Finn said, popping his head out from the kitchen while drying a pan dishcloth. His smile faded when his gaze met mine. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. Somehow, Alistair and Finn’s genuine concern for me was eroding all my carefully erected walls holding my emotions in check. It wouldn’t take much for them to give in completely.

Finn set the pan down in the kitchen then turned to his son. “It’s late, kiddo. Let’s get you ready for bed.”

“But Grier just got here,” Will pouted.

“Come on,” Finn said, hoisting Will up in his arms. “Pajamas and brush your teeth, then you can come back down to say good night.”

“Okay,” Will agreed, but he still didn’t sound overly enthused. “Are you reading me stories tonight, or Alistair?”

“I am. Is that okay?”

“I guess,” Will said. “But Alistair does the voices when he reads stories. Canyoudo the voices?”

Finn stopped at the bottom of the stairs and shot Alistair a look that clearly said,thanks for that.

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