Page 33 of The Fangirl and the Grump

“Why don’t you rent it out like your other properties? You could make a fortune. People would kill to stay here.”

He stares at me silently for a long moment, then pushes off the jamb and takes a step inside. Pushing his hands deep into his pockets, he shrugs.

“Willow and I have a lot of cherished memories in this place. I can’t take the chance that some strangers will wreck it or steal anything that belonged to my grandfather just because they saw it in a movie and want a piece for themselves.”

I nod slowly. “I can understand that. Thanks again for bringing me here. I love it.”

Trace smiles, setting off another round of flutters in my belly. He’s so handsome when he’s all stoic and grumpy, but seeing his smile puts him on a whole different level of hotness.

Jerking his head toward the door, he asks, “Well, don’t you want to see the infamous couch in the basement?”

I leap to my feet in a rush, and he chuckles. Pulling a hand from his pocket, he holds it out in invitation for me to precede him. I scurry through the door and down the stairs, making a right toward the kitchen. Finding the door to the basement right where it should be, I pull it open and flick the light switch on the wall just inside before picking my way carefully down the steps.

I reach the bottom, and there it is. The oversized, threadbare couch where Aria and Lucas made love for the first time in the final installment of the franchise. I move toward it, reaching out a hand to touch it reverently. Then I spin to face Trace and prop my hands on my hips.

“So, you know about the couch, which means you’ve watched the movies. Am I right?” I ask, arching a suspicious brow at him.

He sighs as he scrubs a hand down his face. “Willow made me watch them with her.”

“Sure,” I say, facetiously drawing out the word. “Willowmade you watch them.”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but doesn’t argue. A laugh titters out of me, then I turn to touch the couch one last time before following him back up the stairs. He’s incredibly patient as I tour the rest of the house. He doesn’t try to rush me even though I know this must be boring for him. He did grow up here, after all.

His childhood bedroom is neat and tidy with a bed, a dresser, a night stand, and a bookshelf filled with everything from the classics to Stephen King toCaptain Underpants. I chuckle at that section, and Trace just grins back at me.

I peek inside his grandfather’s room, but decline to go inside even when he says it’s okay. It feels disrespectful to do so, so I just shake my head and move on.

When I’ve finally gotten my fill, Trace leads me back out to the truck and helps me in the way he did before. I chatter on and on as we drive back to Lycan Lodge, and Trace tells me more about his grandfather and how he took advantage of the movie mania, buying up rental properties and leaning into the whole werewolf theme.

He was a smart man, and I can tell Trace really loved him.

“I don’t know why you decided to take me there, but thank you, again. That was amazing,” I say when we pull into the drive at my rental house.

“You’re welcome,” he says, his voice soft and gentle.

I stare at him for a moment, wondering if he’s going to say anything else. Like ask if he can take me out again. Or maybe come inside with me right now.

Or kiss me.

When none of those things happen, I realize how ridiculous the mere thought is. Feeling my face heat with a blush, I thank him again and pop open the door. Trace calls out a goodbye as I close it behind me, and I wave before heading inside the lodge.

Leaning back against the closed door, I heave out a sigh as I listen to the truck back out of the drive. That was really nice. Underneath that gruff exterior,Trace Bardinis nice.

Who would’ve thought?

ChapterFourteen

Trace

Isink into the sofa cushions with a contented sigh. I just dropped Keegan back off at the lodge, and I’m feeling pretty fucking good about myself right now.

I don’t know why I decided to take her to the house. Maybe I just wanted to see her smile after all the shit she’s been through in the last few weeks. After she told me what happened with her ex and her friends, I couldn’t stop thinking about how shitty they’ve treated her and how no one deserves to have so much dumped on them at one time like that.

I assumed a private tour of “Aria Strong’s” house would really cheer her up, and boy, was I right on the money. Keegan was positively glowing. And seeing her there, within those walls in that pretty dress with that smile on her lips? It was perfection. Like shebelongedthere.

I grunt and take a sip of the beer I grabbed from the fridge before I sat down. I need to stop thinking things like that.

No. I was only being nice to her because Willow asked me to. Yeah. That’s it.

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