Page 38 of Beautiful Mess

Folding her arms over her chest, she laughs dryly. “I’m sorry, you’vemissedme?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“You can fuck off with thatmiss mebullshit. You’ve had plenty of chances to reach out if you ‘missed me’ so much,” she bites out, using air quotations. “But you didn’t. Clearly, you didn’t miss me that much if you couldn’t even find thirty seconds in your busy schedule to send me a text.”

Taking a cautious step toward her, I say, “You’re right. I absolutely should’ve reached out to you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not some woman you can fuck, then ignore, Conway,” she cuts me off. “That’s not okay with me. I expect a man who’s interested in me to treat me with respect and courtesy. I expect to be asked out properly. I expect communication. Literally the bare minimum. I’m too fucking old for this game of wondering where I stand with somebody. I know what I want for myself, I know what I deserve. I know the way you live your life. I understand that you don’t want something serious, but it’s not for me. And I’m not sorry for that.”

“So, let me take you out,” I blurt out.

By the way her eyebrows pinch and her lips part, I’d say I surprised more than just myself. “Wh-what?” she stutters. “No way.”

When I take another step, her breath hitches. “Why not?” I ask, bringing my hand up and running my thumb along her jaw.

“B-because,” she scoffs, pink splashing her cheeks. “You can’t ask me out, simply because I said I wanted that. It doesn’t work like that.”

Gripping her chin, I force her gaze to meet mine as my other hand comes to her hip, pulling her closer. “I’m not doing it because you said you wanted it.”

Her eyes drop to my lips before coming back up, full of the sass I can’t get enough of. “Like I believe that.”

“Let me take you out,” I repeat softly.

“I said no,” she murmurs, but it lacks any kick.

“No? You really mean that, Sin?”

I bring my face down to hers, close enough I can smell the wine on her breath. Her lips part, like she’s going to say something, but as her gaze bounces between my eyes and mouth again, nothing comes out. Grace’s silence says all I need to know. I move without thought, fusing our lips together, relishing the pillowy feel of hers against mine. For a moment, she freezes. Her hands come up to the front of my shirt, fisting the material, and I wonder if she’ll push me away. If maybe she meant it when she said I wasn’t what she wanted. But then she tugs me closer, body relaxing in my hold as she opens up, letting my tongue sweep into her mouth and roll against hers.

I swallow her contented sigh, bringing my hand around to the back of her neck, kissing her deeper. She tastes fucking divine, and it makes my head spin. I kiss her with fervor, my lips and tongue saying the things I haven’t been able to this week, and she kisses me back just as passionately. When we pull apart, we’re both breathless, and her eyes are glassy as they peer up at me under heavy lids.

Bringing my thumb up to her mouth, I swipe away the smudge of her lipstick before looking her in the eye, and leaving no room for argument when I say, “I’ll pick you up next Saturday at six p.m.”

Grace’s throat works as she swallows, at a loss for words, and I can’t help but smirk as I turn and leave her standing there, dumbfounded in the bathroom.

I’ll fucking show her the man she wants.

Seventeen

Grace

What…the actual fuck just happened?

With my heart racing a mile a minute, I’m staring—no,gawking—at the door Conway just walked through. Stunned and utterly fucking speechless.I’m never speechless.I bring my hand up, pressing two fingers to my lips that are still tingling from that earth-shattering kiss, his spit still slick on them. What the hell was that?Whowas that? Because it simplycannotbe the same man who’s been avoiding me for the past four days.

I grab my phone out of the pocket on my dress, and with shaky hands, I send a text to Georgia and Charley, needing to talk this out now, and finally get this off my chest. Keeping this secret from them has been torture.

Me: 911—Meet me in Gemma’s room RIGHT NOW!

After turning around and making sure I look put together in the mirror, I leave the bathroom and beeline for the bedroom at the end of the hall. My heart hasn’t slowed a bit since Conway left, and I’m not sure if it ever will. I’m the first one in the room, but it doesn’t take long for Georgia and Charley to follow suit, shutting the door behind them.

“Are you okay?” Georgia asks, concern etched into her features as she and Charley approach me.

“No,” I blurt out, then shake my head and sigh. “I mean, yes. Or fuck, I don’t know.”

“What’s wrong?” The question comes from Charley, but before I can answer, the door opens, startling all of us as our heads snap in that direction, and we watch Gemma walk in.

“What the hell is this and why wasn’t I invited?” she demands to know, a hand planted on her hip and the beginning of a smirk tugging on her lips.

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