Page 42 of Fire and Ice
“I’m sorry, baby,” he said softly. “It’s been eight years, and I’ll never touch another drop.”
So many thoughts and emotions whirled through her. Why did Grady have to be an alcoholic? She had told herself she would never date one again. He was in a dangerous profession, and she had promised herself she would never again fall for a person who could die on the job.
Like George, Grady was both.
She thought about how much she cared about Grady. Could she do it again?
Grady is not George, she told herself. George never admitted he had a problem and never tried to stop. Grady has been sober for eight years. That says something.
But that could all change on a dime.
He released her and pushed her chin up with his fingertips. “Please look at me.”
“I—I can’t think.” Chelsea tried to keep her voice steady as she drew back and looked at Grady. “Maybe we should have dessert now.”
“This isn’t going to go away.” Grady took her hand and placed it over his heart. “Now that I know the full story, I need to know if you’re going to be okay with it.”
She felt the beating of his heart beneath her palm. “I want to know why you stopped drinking.”
Grady looked like his thoughts were far away for a moment, as if going over it in his mind. He met her gaze. “I drove intoxicated and rolled my car.” His eyes were filled with a darkness she’d never seen in him, and her stomach dropped. “Thank God I didn’t hit anyone. It seriously screwed up my knee and broke my leg in three places. It ended any possibility that I could go pro.”
He blew out his breath then continued. “I made a vow to myself. I will never touch another drop of alcohol. I will never take the chance of hurting or killing another person, ever. I save lives, I don’t take them.”
Chelsea’s heart thudded. The pain in his voice and the resolution in his eyes spoke volumes.
For a long moment, silence lay heavy between them. Then he said, “Just know that if it means anything to you, you have my promise that I will never touch another drop of alcohol.”
She nodded but said nothing.
“I hate leaving you like this, but I think I need to go home.” His expression was now filled with a different kind of pain. “I know you’re still trying to process what I shared with you.” He spoke the words quietly. “It’s important you think about it and decide what you want to do about us.”
Chelsea swallowed. “You’re right, we can’t go any further. I can’t think clearly right now.”
His gaze never left hers. “Call me when you’re ready.”
She bit her lower lip and nodded. “Okay.”
He slid into his jacket and snapped the leash onto Spot’s collar. He clicked his tongue, and the dog stood at his side.
Chelsea knelt and hugged Spot, fighting back more tears. She didn’t want to be alone, struggling with her thoughts and fears. But Grady was right.
Chelsea stood, and Grady brought her into his arms for a hug, and for a long moment neither of them moved. She tipped her head up, and he gave her a soft, sweet kiss. It was like he was afraid it would be the last time he saw her.
Her eyes ached, and she fought back tears as he stepped away. “Good night.”
He released her. “Good night, Chelsea.” He turned away, Spot walking at his side as they headed to his SUV.
Chelsea closed the door and put her forehead against the wood. Tears squeezed from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks before she straightened and gathered herself. She’d go to bed and sleep on it.
She didn’t think she could sleep at all, and she wasn’t sure how long it would take to figure this out. She had to do it before her feelings for him grew any stronger than they already were.
13
The next afternoon, Chelsea found herself sitting on her bed and staring at her phone, trying to come up with the words to say. It was vital that she lay it all out to him.
Chelsea had felt that she needed to be fair to herself and fair to Grady and make her decision within the next day or two. She’d agonized over it, her fears battling her feelings for him.
She didn’t call her sisters because this felt too personal, too private. They hadn’t known about her battles with accepting George’s alcoholism—she’d hidden it from them, and in some ways she felt like a failure. Deep down, she knew none of it was her fault, but a part of her thought that if she had been a different woman, maybe he would have stopped drinking. Should she have tried harder to get him to go to AA meetings?
