Page 32 of Could Have Been Us
The one thing that Grayson has always been good at is hiding what he’s thinking. It doesn’t matter that when we were seven, I saved him from getting his ass kicked. Or at ten, when I warned him that he was being set up by two football guys to walk into an ambush. It doesn’t matter that I have saved his ass a million times, probably more, he never shows me what he’s thinking.
He’s a master at it.
It’s a trick I’ve tried to emulate when it comes to wanting to sleep with his sister.
Or I should say, when Ididsleep with his sister.
Not that there was much sleeping.
So, here I am, not sure what the hell I said last night. Not sure if I told him that I pushed his sister against the wall in the bar, rubbing my dick against her and shoving my tongue into her mouth. How I thought of something else I’d like to stick there. Nope. He just waits for Amelia to exit and then shuts the door, leaving me to wonder.
Dickhead.
As much as I’d like to hate him, the medication on the nightstand and bottle of Gatorade is a nice gesture. If I did say any of those things, Grayson would’ve killed me. He didn’t, so there’s some hope.
I take the pills, chugging the electrolytes I desperately need, and climb out of bed.
The pounding in my head doesn’t relent as I shower, get dressed, or walk to the kitchen.
“Tough night,” Gray notes as he grabs the bag of bread.
“You could say that.”
“You all right?”
Three words that let me know I did not, in fact, talk about Stella.
No one in this world is more protective of their sister than the Parkerson brothers. They have spent their entire lives making sure no one could hurt her. Little do they know that I did that and more.
I broke her.
And last night, I did it again.
I push the bread away, not feeling much like eating.
“I’ve known you my whole life,” Grayson says, his back against the counter as he watches me. “I’ve never seen you that fucked up. Well, not since we were in college.”
Since the night I lost my fucking mind when I found out Stella was pregnant.
“Yeah,” is the brilliant reply I come up with.
Grayson laughs. “You’re an idiot and a liar. You kept saying shit like, ‘I don’t even want to like her.’”
I scratch my head and then sigh. “I don’t.”
“Like who?”
Your sister.
“No one. It really doesn’t matter because I was drunk and don’t remember much. I must’ve met someone at the bar.”
And because I put the proverbial nail in the coffin last night when I called us a mistake.
Stella won’t take that lying down. She will never look at me the same after that one.
Good.
I’d like it all to stop. If she hated me, this would be a hundred times easier. I wouldn’t have to see things I’d rather not when she looks at me.
