“Shit, I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to bring him down.”
“I’ll go talk to him,” I say, and Zeke raises his brows.
“My chances are slim to none, I take it?” He puffs on the cigar again.
I’m halfway out the door before I stop and look over my shoulder at Zeke. “The only person who stands a chance is Grayson, even if he doesn’t want me.”
“Then he’s an idiot,” Zeke says simply, sitting on the arm of the couch as he smokes his fancy cigar, his gold pinky ring shining in the living room light.
“No, he isn’t. I deceived him. He’s a smart man for keeping me away.” I head outside, sliding the door closed behind me. Owen startles me on the other side, and he closes the curtain so Grayson and I can have privacy.
Not that it matters.
Nothing is going to happen.
I let out a shaky breath from the sudden cold that wraps around me. The fog is hanging light in the air, moving as a curtain across us toward the ocean. It’s so beautiful here. Since it’s so early, the waves aren’t wild and harsh like they were yesterday. There are barely ripples in the water now, and the seagulls must be sleeping since I don’t hear them cawing like the menaces they are.
It’s just us, and the silence is louder than the waves and the damn birds. It’s deafening.
“Hey,” I greet, folding my arms across my chest. “You okay?” I stop a few feet behind him, not wanting to get too close since I know I’m not welcome. He turns his head to the right and pinches his brows together as he keeps his eyes on the sea. His hair is messy, blowing in the wind, and his jawline, god, his jawline has to be made of steel.
I want to reach out and touch him, admire him, but I know when I’m not wanted.
“No, I’m not okay,” he says, tucking his hands in his pockets.
Another brisk chill drifts from the ocean and tickles the tip of my nose, making me sniffle. “Is there anything I can do to help besides leave?” I joke, trying to ease the tension, but it doesn’t work.
He turns his head to me and frowns, his brown eyes so dark I can’t tell where the pupil begins and ends. “That’s another reason why I’m not okay. I don’t want you to go, Finley. I should want you to go because…” He reaches behind his back and scratches his nape. “I have more on my plate than I ever have in my life. I have a kid. A very sick kid. My life is hard enough without adding someone to it who is too damn young for me. You’re barely eighteen. I feel fucking gross knowing we spoke when you were seventeen.” He lifts his hands and looks at them. “Like fucking dirty, Finley, and you know what? That’s your fault.”
“I know. I know, God,” I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose, then take a step forward to close the distance between us. “It was wrong of me. I’m so sorry.” My eyes water from the guilt consuming me, that’s been consuming me. “But I was in a really bad place, but that doesn’t make what I did right. My stepfather was a jackass. My mom is a prostitute. My life at home has been a shitshow for so long. I wanted to go somewhere that I felt safe. I wanted someone I could talk to that I could find peace with. Something, anything other than the nightmare I lived.” I take another step forward, and a tear rolls down my cheek. He’s frozen on the spot, his mouth is tight, and he doesn’t look like he believes me, but I need him to. “You were the only escape I had. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but everything we talked about was true. My goals, my dreams, everything. The only thing that was different was my age.”
“That’s a big thing,” he says.
“I know, but if you’re wondering if our friendship was a lie, it wasn’t.”
“That’s the thing, Finley.” He laughs, staring off at the ocean again. “The longer we spoke, the more I knew I didn’t just want to be your friend. Do you know how long I’ve avoided relationships? Since my ex-girlfriend accused me of rape. I lost my faith in everything. I served eight years behind bars, Finley, for something I didn’t do. She was the love of my life, my everything. She stabbed me so hard in the fucking back I swear I can still feel the knife inside me. After that, I never wanted to trust someone again. And then…” he scoffs. “And then, you fucking happen, and I did the one thing I never wanted to do again. But you had to twist that fucking knife, Finley. You dug it deeper into my back.”
“I never wanted that, Grayson. I can’t say much else except I’m sorry. Can we start over? Please? Now that I have you in my life, I want you in it, as a friend, as something.” As anything. I’m that desperate.
“Over? You want to start over? I can’t do that. I can’t forget all the conversations we had.”
I hang my head and hold back a sob. “I understand.”
His fingers raise my head by applying pressure on my chin. “I don’t want to forget everything. You know why I’m so fucking mad about it, Finley?” His thumb moves to my lip, and his tongue flicks out. His eyes turn from onyx to a glowing garnet, and the intense stare has me holding my breath.
“Because I want you, Finley.” He makes a noise in the back of his throat that’s between a growl and a moan. “I want you. I wanted you when I saw you on my doorstep. Damn it, I want
