Page 41 of Deceiving Grier

“Why bother with the whole act?”

“To push the approval through faster, which will let him offload the property faster. The community thinks an art gallery would be a great addition. The town will approve it, and then he’ll sell the property without building anything for more than he would have if your house was still standing.”

Grier nodded and folded his arms over his chest. “Andthat’swhat your story is about? A theory that Mackenzie burned down his own house?”

“That’s anaspectof the story. Overall, it’s about one man dedicating his life to building a community, only for his son to literally burn that legacy to the ground.”

“And so, you moved in here because you thought Jett and I knew something about our landlord committing arson—acrime—nearly killing our friend, and we would just tell you all about it.”

I dragged my fingers through my hair and sank back into the chair behind the desk. “I figured my odds were better as your roommate rather than a reporter.”

“I can’t believe you thought we would be involved with the fire, thatIhad anything to do with it.”

“Now that I know you, I don’t believe that, but before. I mean, it just didn’t make sense. Why would Mackenzie put up a bunch of college kids in his father’s house and charge them almost no rent? I figured you guys knew something or had something on him, and the fire made the most sense.”

Grier let out a humorless chuckle and shook his head. “You really went through a lot of trouble for nothing. If you had asked right from the start, I could have told you there was nothing nefarious about Greyson Mackenzie letting us stay here or about him building an art gallery where our house used to be.”

“You don’t know that,” I said. “Not for sure.”

“I do actually.” Grier shot me a pointed look before continuing. “Greyson and Finn are good friends. They go way back. Finn loves Alistair. That’s the connection in all of this that you’re missing, the part that you didn’tget, and so nothing else makes sense.”

Grier’s gaze held mine, his expression expectant, as if he wanted me to say or ask something, but I didn’t know what, so I kept my mouth shut. He sighed, loudly. “I don’t know who set fire to our house, but I can almost guarantee you that Greyson doesn’t know either. He let us stay here after our house burned down and we lost everything we owned, partly because he felt sorry for us, but also because of Finn’s connection to Alistair and Alistair’s connection to us.”

“So, you’re telling me that Mackenzie lets you guys rent this place for almost nothing because of his friend’s boyfriend?”

Grier shrugged. “Boring, I know. As far as I know, he still plans on selling the house once we’re done with school. He’s only had to hold on to it nine months longer than when he was going to sell it anyway. As for what we pay in rent, there’s nothing sinister there either. He just lets us pay what we’d been paying at the other house. And before you read something into it, Oliver Mackenzie set the rate. He always kept the rent low for students even before we moved in. He was a college professor, and I think he felt bad for students and how expensive university was. Anyway, that’s it. That’s your big story. Sorry, the reality isn’t as interesting as everything you imagined. Maybe journalism isn’t for you. Maybe you should give fiction a try. You have areallyfertile imagination.”

I knew Grier was trying to get under my skin, and as much as I hated to admit it, he was succeeding, just not for the reasons he thought. There was a bitterness in his tone that I’d never heard before, and I didn’t like hearing it now.

If Grier was telling the truth—which, let’s face it, it was Grier, of course, he was telling the truth—he was right. There wasnostory here. I was fucked. Not only had I lost my chance to write something meaningful, something would have to let me get a jump on my future. But I’d screwed things up with Grier too, and somehow that felt worse.

“I have to go,” he said, suddenly.

I tensed. “What? Where?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, but I just can’t do this anymore tonight. I need to get out of here.”

He turned and stormed out of the study. I trailed after him through the dining room and living room. He stopped in the front hall long enough to jam his feet into his sneakers and grab his jacket from the closet.

“Wait,” I said, when his hand grabbed the door handle. Panic held my throat in its icy grip and started to squeeze. “Don’t, please. I know I screwed everything up. I’m sorry.”

“The thing is, you lied to me.” Grier’s voice sounded rough, as if someone had scraped the inside of his throat with sandpaper. “Now, I can’t believe anything you say.”

I desperately wanted to touch him, to hold him, to press my lips to his, even if it was for the last time.

“Everything I said to you tonight was the truth. I didn’t hold anything back.”

“That’s great.” His flat tone belied his words. “But you’re two months too late.”

Grier walked out into the night, closing the door behind him and leaving me standing alone in the hall, an unnatural silence falling over me. I closed my eyes and pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead, where a steady and persistent ache had started throbbing, the stark realization of everything that had just happened hitting me like a truck.

In the span of twenty minutes, I’d lost everything that meant anything to me. The story I’d been counting on to pave the way into the future was gone in a puff of smoke. I would probably have to find somewhere else to live—Jett and Grier would no doubt want me out of here, and I didn’t blame them. And I’d screwed things up with Grier—I couldn’t stop seeing the hurt and betrayal in his face. We were done before we’d even had the chance to explore what we had for real, and I didn’t think we’d ever be able to come back from it.

Chapter Seventeen

Grier

Outside,thecoldnightair tinged with the faint scent of woodsmoke, felt good against my heated face. I could hear the hollow clanking from those stupid wind chimes, somehow mocking me in the darkness.

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