Page 51 of Deceiving Grier

Outside, the wind gusted, and I could hear the dry rattle of dead leaves and bare tree branches even through the double-paned windows. An uneasy chill settled over me. Something about both the fire and the break-in felt off, but I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly.

I picked up a pen from my desk, absently clicking the end with my thumb. Could I have been right about property values playing a part in the fire, just wrong about who had been responsible? I knew local developers had been interested in the properties in The Square. A popular tourist spot close to the ocean. Of course, there were developers interested. Had the break-in been an attempt to scare off Grier, Jett and Alistair? Had the fire been a final step to destroying the house and bringing down the value of the property to make it less expensive to purchase as well as easier to change the status from residential to retail with the actual residence gone?

It did sort of make sense. My heart rate kicked up, and my knee started to bounce under the desk.

Slow down, I told myself.Don’t jump to any conclusions.

Could there be something here? Could I be on to something after all? Maybe, but I had no idea how I could link all those possibilities without proof, and I didn’t know how to track that proof down when the police themselves had no leads to go on.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, jerking me out of my thoughts. I slid it out. Grier’s number glowed up from the screen.

Grinning, I swiped my thumb over the surface, then pressed the phone to my ear.

“Hey,” I said, getting up from my desk. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so early.

“I missed you,” Grier said.

“Me too. Are you back at the hotel already?”

“I am,” he said, voice low with a faint rasp that went straight to my cock. “However, Jake, who I’m sharing a room with, isn’t back yet. He’s still at the bar, and he’ll be there for a while.”

“Oh, yeah?” My grin widened. I got up from my chair and left the study, making my way to my room. “I like the sound of that. Are you sure he won’t be back anytime soon?”

“We won,” Grier said, sounding relieved and happy. “We made it to playoffs. I’m certain he won’t be back until the bar closes.”

I sank onto my bed and scooted up until I leaned back against the headboard. “I knew you guys would win.”

He’d been working his ass off over the past few weeks to make it to playoffs. There were only a handful of games left before the season ended, and Grier was determined to play his best for all of them.

He chuckled. “I’m glad one of us was.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t stay out late to celebrate with everyone?”

“I could have,” he said, thoughtfully. “And I had been having a good time, but the thing was, I knew I’d have a better time celebrating with you—privately.”

“Tough to argue that.” I opened the fly of my jeans. Anticipation turned my movements clumsy. “So, what exactly did you have in mind?”

“What are you wearing?”

Chapter Twenty-one

Grier

Iwasexhaustedbythe time I steered into my driveway, pulling in behind Sawyer’s Jeep. Jett’s car wasn’t in its usual place, parked next to Sawyer’s. Not that I was surprised. He worked most Sunday nights, and despite it being dark out already, it really wasn’t that late. A little past seven, but after staying up late talking to Sawyer and then spending almost six hours stuck on a bus with my hung-over teammates, I thought today might never end.

These shorter days weren’t helping to boost my energy. I hated when the days became shorter, so that it was dark when I left for school and dark when I got home. There was no point in complaining. With October just giving way to November, the days would only continue to grow shorter, and I still had weeks before reaching the pinnacle where the situation reversed—months before there’d be any noticeable difference.

Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away, and I was already working on my excuses not to go home and celebrate with my family. I should probably feel guiltier than I did. After all, it had been months since I’d been back to visit any of my relatives, but this would be my last Thanksgiving in The Square. I wasn’t going to give that up. Alistair and Finn had offered to host dinner, and both Jett and I would be going. Finn’s son, Will, would be there, and Alistair told me Finn was even thinking of inviting Will’s grandparents.

Would Sawyer stay to celebrate with us, or would he go home to his family? We hadn’t talked about the holidays yet. I mean, we’d only been back together a few days. There hadn’t exactly been time yet.

I should probably say something sooner rather than later, before he made other plans. He’d implied that while he and his mother were close, his relationship with his stepdad wasn’t great. Maybe he’d be glad to stay with us.

The truth was, I was nervous to ask. Everything between us felt new and fragile, and I feared it could collapse under the weight of any kind of real pressure.

With my duffle bag hoisted over my shoulder, I dragged myself to the stairs leading up to the porch. To be fair, I probably wouldn’t have felt so damn tired if I hadn’t stayed up half the night talking to Sawyer. We’d jerked off together while he’d described in vivid detail all the filthy things he wanted to do to me, and in return, I’d happily shared all the filthy things I wanted him to do to me.

After, we’d stayed up talking about everything and nothing until the early hours of the morning. The only reason we’d ended the conversation was that my teammate, Jake, got back to the hotel room staggering drunk, flopping onto the bed next to mine and passing out nearly right away.

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