Page 74 of Beautiful Mess

Cole: Real fucking nice, Grace. My dad? What the fuck is wrong with you? I knew you were pissed about what happened in college, but I didn’t think it was still an issue. Don’t you think we’re a little too old for games? Fucking my DAD to get back at me is disgusting. Congratulations, I lost all respect for you.

Conway’s grip on my phone is so tight, I wouldn’t be surprised if he broke the damn thing. After he reads the message—probably more than once with how long his gaze burns into the screen—his jaw pops as he hands the device back to me, and when I peer up at him, I’m taken aback by the fury staring back at me.

Except I don’t think it’s meant for me.

“I had no idea he sent that, Grace. I’m sorry.”

Shaking my head, I slip the phone back into my pocket. “You don’t need to apologize, but for the record, revenge wasnevera motive of mine when it came to you.”

He holds up a hand and clicks his tongue. “I never thought that. Clearly, he was upset, and instead of talking to me, he decided to take it out on you.”

Before I have a chance to respond, a knock sounds from the door, both of our heads turning in that direction. “Come in,” I call out.

Daya pops her head in, gaze jumping over to Conway before settling on me. “Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to remind you that my break is in a couple minutes and Sara Beth had to leave early today, so you said you’re manning the register while I’m gone.”

I smile over at her, completely forgetting that was today. I can’t tell if this is horrible or perfect timing, all things considered. Nodding, I say, “Of course, Daya. I’ll be right up.”

“Cool, thanks, Grace,” she murmurs, flashing me a toothy grin before leaving and closing the door behind her.

The tension in this small room is thick as I shift my gaze back to Conway. “He’s your son, Conway,” I repeat. “I can’t get in the way of your relationship with him, and I would never ask you to choose.”

“I don’t need to choose, Grace,” he huffs, clearly in frustration. “I know Cole, and he’s going to get over this.”

“What if he doesn’t?” My voice cracks. “What if he doesn’t get over it? What if it comes between you two? You’d end up resenting me for it, and I can’t live with that. I care about you too much to do that to you. I’d rather end it now before I fall for you more and end up getting even more hurt.”

“But I don’t want that,” he says in a low, gruff tone, taking a step in my direction. “I want to be with you, Grace.”

Against my better efforts, tears well up in my eyes, and I step back, putting more distance between us, and hold my hands up to stop him from following. “Please. This needs to end. It’s for the best. Please accept that.”

“You keep saying that, that it’s for the best, but it’s not. I think if you were to trust me, you’d see that Cole will get over this.”

“But what if he doesn’t, Conway?” I shout without meaning to, before taking in a deep breath. “I’m not willing to gamble with your relationship with your son. I care about you too much for that.Please. It’s done. Over.” My heart cracks down the middle as a tear spills over, falling hot down my face at the finality of it all and the emotion wrapped around my words.

Conway’s mouth opens and closes a few times, like he has more he wants to argue with me, press the issue more, but I don’t let him.

“I have to get back to work,” I murmur, looking away from him.

A few pregnant moments pass, and I can feel the weight of his gaze on the side of my face. But finally, without another word, Conway breathes out a sigh and walks out of my office. As soon as he’s out of sight, the dam breaks, a flood of moisture soaking my cheeks as I quickly shut and lock the door, pressing my back up against it. I give myself two minutes and not a single second more to get it all out before I wipe my face, take a couple of deep breaths, and walk out of there like I’m not heartbroken.

It’s for the best.Four words I keep repeating, yet they never sound any better.

God, this fucking sucks.

Thirty-One

Conway

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say Grace doesn’t know we’re here right now?” Davis drawls, handing me one of the coffees Gemma dropped off a minute ago before setting the folded white bag full of what I’m sure is bagels or muffins on the desk.

Taking a drink of the hot beverage, the rich aroma fills my senses. This is exactly what I needed after the all-nighter we pulled. Eyeing my friend, I set the Styrofoam cup down beside the bag and ask, “Why do you say that?”

Davis sits on the edge of the desk with his legs crossed at the ankle and his arms folded over his chest. His dark, shaggy hair is sweat soaked, as is the t-shirt he’s got on. “Oh, I don’t know,” he muses. “Maybe because one of her sisters let us in here at two in the morning and the other one just brought us breakfast.”

Opening the bag, I pull out—yup, I was right—one of the bagels and a pouch of cream cheese. I prop myself against the edge of the opposite side of the desk as Davis before peeling open the foil packet and spreading the cream cheese on one side of the bagel. “I’m not seeing your point.”

Chuckling, Davis swipes the bag away from me, grabbing out the other bagel. “You’d think Grace would be here, since, you know, it’sheroffice.”

My lip twitches as I take a bite and shrug, but otherwise say nothing.

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