Page 83 of Play Me
Gray’s face falls. “Nah, man, we can’t. Astrid rode with me, and I told her this would just be an afternoon thing.”
“I can call an Uber back to Nashville,” I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Riding in a car with a stranger for the next hour and a half sounds like absolute misery, but it’s better than robbing Gray of a fun night with his friend.
“Why?” Brooks asks. “You’re coming with us.”
My shoulders sink as I turn frantically to Gray. “Don’t worry. I’ll call a car.” I take my phone out of my pocket and step a few paces toward the laundry room, but Gray’s voice stops me in my tracks.
“Wait.” His hands are shoved in his pockets with no attention paid to the others in the room. Just me. “If you go back tonight, I’m taking you. There’s zero chance you’re getting in the car with a random person.”
Something flutters deep inside me next to my heart. The ache in my chest is soft and gentle, unlike the painful pulls I’m used to. The fact that he would go out of his way, prioritizing me above his friend and his family, knocks the wind right out of me.Who does that?
His smile, dimples deep in his cheeks, is just for me.
“Or you could stay and have fun tonight,” Brooks says. “I’ll be your personal Sugar Creek tour guide.”
“The hell you will.” Gray shoots him a look over his shoulder. “You mind your own damn business.”
Brooks and Hartley exchange a grin.
My mouth is dry as I try to read the room. I can’t decide whether I’m really wanted here or not. They’re probably just tolerating me—Gray does seem to have manners here, after all. The last thing I want to be is an inconvenience.
“I could just hang out here,” I offer. “I don’t want to put anyone out.”
Gray lifts a brow. “Aren’t you the one who told me you needed A. Fucking. Break?”
“I didn’t mean in this context,” I say, laughing.
“Stay,” Hartley urges. “It’ll be fun.”
“Don’t say that,” Gray says. “She definitely won’t stay if she thinks she’ll have fun.”
I mock him. “Shut up.”
“I’ll buy you a funnel cake,” Hartley offers.
“Fine. I’ll dance with you at the bandstand,” Brooks says, grimacing. “You’ll endure many glares from the other women salivating for their chance with me. That’s on you.”
Gray licks his lips. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
All three men watch me with careful anticipation, waiting for my response. I shift from foot to foot, still uncertain how I should proceed. This is something I’ve never done and, if Gianna would do this, I’d tell her she was asking for trouble.
Going with three men I just met to a festival at night in a place I don’t know?These types of situations are how podcasters make a living.
But standing in this room with Gray, Hartley, and Brooks, I don’t feel fearful. I don’t doubt their intentions for a second. I don’t sense danger. As a matter of fact, I haven’t once gotten an indication that something was amiss with any of them.
Dare I say that I feel … safe?
I shrug. “We don’t have shirts.”
“Your closet is full of stuff,” Hartley says to Gray. “You’d probably be able to scrounge something up for the two of you.”
Gray lifts a brow at me.
The thought of going home feels like a wet blanket being thrown on top of me. It’s heavy, and lonely, and suffocating. Besides, if I stay, I’ll have a story to tell my friends, for once.And Gianna will die.
“Okay,” I say. “If you want to go, Gray, let’s go.”
“Atta girl.” Brooks claps his hands like he’s cheering on a sports play. “The Fish Fry stops in about an hour, and I’ve waited all week for that. Can we put this into high gear?”
