That pinch sharpens—a warning I’m not so sure I stand a chance at heeding.
She draws in a breath, studying every inch of my face and my silence.“You’re not alone.You don’t have to act like you are.”
Her words land too close to what my friends said the other night, scratching at armor I’ve worn for years and digging into places I pretend don’t exist.
I take a step back, not trusting the steady ground under my boots.“I’m sorry for being an ass.You didn’t deserve it.Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”She nods, and a smile finally tugs at her lips.“Now, for the fun part.Can I get some time with you on Monday?”
My shoulders sag, weighed down by the reality of why she’s here.“Fine.After school.We don’t have practice, so I’ll meet you at Bloom & Brew.”
“Good.”She glances around the yard, taking in the scattered equipment and the ladder leaning against the eaves.“New roof?”
“Yeah.”
She nods and takes a small step toward the porch, lingering, and I’m half-starved for her to stay and half-terrified she will.I need her gone before I do something stupid, like reach out and see if her skin is as soft as it looks.
“See you Monday, Grace.Enjoy your weekend.”
She stops, her gaze searching mine for something I’m not ready to give.“We’re okay, right?”
I flinch, guilt nibbling at my insides.“Yeah.We’re fine.”
Her eyes suggest she doesn’t believe a word of it, but she nods anyway and turns, heading for her car with that graceful, infuriatingly confident stride.After slipping inside, she shuts the door with a final, heavy thud.
From the porch, I watch her SUV disappear down the drive, the red of her taillights fading into the trees.
I should be relieved she’s gone, but I still have a problem.I want to blame my lingering irritation on the way she showed up unannounced, but that would be a lie.No, it’s my damn craving...for more.
I want to know what it feels like to have that fierce loyalty of hers aimed at me instead of the possibility of it being against me.I want to see if that spine of hers stays that straight when my hands are on her waist.
It’s a dangerous, reckless pull toward a woman who sees too much and gives too much—a light that exposes all my shadows.
The scent of her perfume still hangs in the crisp air, and though I shouldn’t, I’m already counting down the hours until Monday.
Chapter10
Grace
The Hartley home is just on the edge of town, and the drive back to town unwinds in a few short miles.Pines blur past in deep green streaks, sunlight melting the frost on the asphalt.My fingers stay tight around the steering wheel, knuckles pale, the conversation with Maddox replaying in an uncomfortable loop.
We cleared the air.
At least… we said the words that were supposed to clear it.And yet something still sits lodged between us, like a pebble in your shoe—too small to name, too big to ignore.Not anger.Not quite hurt.More like he’s still not trusting, readying for a blow I never intend to deliver.
Helping him last night shouldn’t be complicated.It was simple, instinctive—see a problem, fix it.Not because it makes me better.I helped because I could.Because standing by while people struggle does something ugly to me.I’ll never forget the one person I couldn’t save.
Logically, I understand the impossibility of what happened to Cary.He was in Florida, and I was in California.It was a random act of violence.There was nothing I could’ve done even if I’d been there.And yet, I try to save everything and everyone I can now.Even stubborn, closed-off coaches with storm clouds for shoulders.
I let out a wry exhale.I’m glad we talked.His apology still echoes in my chest—quiet, sincere, and almost reluctant.It felt like giving it cost him something.Maybe letting me see even a fraction of what weighs him down is the hardest thing he’s had to do in a long time.
We’re not done, Maddox and I.Monday’s meeting looms, bringing with it the feeling that this story—his story—is already burrowing deeper into me than I ever planned.
My stomach growls, and I make a right, needing food.Lou’s Big Sky Diner sits ahead, the old neon sign flickering in the daylight.This is my first visit, and according to Patsy, it leans more greasy spoon while Pop’s Grill has a slightly more upscale, family feel.I pull into the lot, squeezing between a rusted Jeep and a dusty minivan.
Inside, the rush of warmth, the chatter of the regulars, and the unmistakable smell of barbecue bring a sigh to my lips.I slip onto a chair near the window and shrug out of my coat.
My muscles finally settle, though my mind doesn’t.Maddox’s voice lingers, especially the way he askedwhyI helped.Something tells me people offer to help him all the time.So, what was it?Oh, more like needing someone, especially me, made him weak.