Page 34 of Three Sweet Nothings (The Blindfold Club)

He meandered to his fridge. “Care for something to drink while you tell me about it?”

I took a glass of water and sat down across from him in the living room of his studio apartment. I wasn’t sure where to start. When I’d asked to borrow a dress from Morgan, I’d had to reveal what I needed it for. Grant had seen me at my worst. We’d met just two months after Kyle had left, when I’d been working my way toward rock bottom of a not-great time in my life.

So while Grant understood my desire to get closure, he’d also been worried about the emotional toll there’d be for me to get it. I’d sworn to him I was strong enough now to face Kyle. The one good thing to come out of my breakup with him was I’d grown tough and hardened my heart.

“The suspense is killing me,” Grant said, leaning back and casting a thick arm on the back of the couch. “I take it you spoke with McAsshole.”

“I did.” I took a sip of my water. “He, uh, filled in some gaps in the story.”

“Gaps? What kind of gaps?”

It burst from me suddenly, rapid-fire. How I’d left the awful voicemail that had driven Kyle away, and then the second lie I’d told which was the nail in the coffin for our relationship. In hindsight, my New Year’s Eve plan had been stupid. If I hadn’t kissed him, he would have kept his lips to himself, and we wouldn’t have ended up in the water where he gave me the fuck of my life.

Followed immediately by the most awkward ten minutes of my life.

It had been like he’d shut down after he’d gotten out of the pool and dried off. Kyle just stood there, not saying a word. I couldn’t tell if he wanted me to stay or not, but it became perfectly clear when he let me walk away. He hadn’t uttered a word to stop me. Once again, he gave up.

When the conversation lapsed into silence, Grant’s gaze drifted over to the closet. “So, the dress? What happened?”

“We, uh, fell in the pool.” It wasn’t a lie, but I wasn’t about to tell him about what happened afterward. It was embarrassing how fast I’d jumped on Kyle’s dick.

My face must have given too much away, because Grant frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It was just a lot, seeing him again.” Once again, not a lie. My emotions were horribly twisted, and the hardest part was I still wanted him. I wanted to know why he was back. Why he’d only slept with three women since me.

And what the hell he thought about the moment when I turned to him in the pool and whispered, “Again.” I shivered now from the memory. It wasn’t just the burning sting from his spanking I’d enjoyed; it’d been so much more. All those lies I’d told had made something dark inside me crave punishment from him. Like I deserved it. There’d been relief at his command over my body.

Grant raked a hand through his long, mahogany-colored hair, pushing the strands back. “Any chance McAsshole wants to play a little rugby?”

I smiled. Grant was on the Chicago Lions rugby team. I didn’t understand the desire to play the rough sport and get himself beaten up on weekends during the season, but I fully understood the effect his teammates in uniform had on me. I mean, goddamn.

“No,” I said with a light laugh. “I don’t think watching you knock Kyle flat on his ass would make me feel much better.”

“And who cares about that?” Grant smiled. “It would make me feel better.”

“Aw, you’re sweet. Speaking of sweets, the macs are raspberry lemon, caramel apple, and blueberry.”

“You keep at this, and my team’s going to demand I marry you.”

I shrugged. “I keep telling you to drop some subtle hints that I’m single.”

“I do, but it always comes out as ‘stay the hell away from my friend.’ It’s strange. Must be a cultural thing, or my accent.”

He’d always been protective of me, so it came as no surprise when he’d decreed I wasn’t allowed to date any of his ‘meathead’ teammates.

I glanced around the apartment, once again noticing the pictures he’d removed. “And you?” I asked. “How are you doing? Are you okay?”

“Yes.” His expression was sincere. “We’d been over for a while. I think all we really liked was the idea of each other. Which, fuck me, sounds bloody awful.” In his accent, it came out like, “sounds bladdy awful.”

Lord knew he wasn’t going to get any judgement from me. This morning had given me perspective, but last night? If Kyle had asked me to go home with him, I’d have done it.

All he would have had to do was fucking ask.

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