Page 62 of All I Have Left

My heart jumps into my throat. “What?”

I peek over at him. His jaw is clenched, his eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe he had the fucking nerve to show up here.”

And then I spot him. He’s standing in the dugout on the opposing team, his white jersey making his thick black hair stand out.

He doesn’t look my way, but his eyes are on Grayson for sure as he moves to set the chairs down on the other side of the dugout near third base.

Bile rises in my throat at the way he’s watching Grayson. I don’t like it. It’s as if he’s trying to find a weakness, any angle he can use to gain some sort of advantage over him. The thought gives me chills. I want to throw myself in front of Grayson. Shield him from any danger that might come because of me.

Grayson bumps my shoulder with his, a water in his hand drifting my way. I take it. “You okay?” he finally asks after I’ve taken a drink and turned around the other way. “We can leave.”

“I’m fine,” I lie, not wanting him to know how much I’m freaking out. “I don’t want to leave.”

“You sure?” Grayson cocks an eyebrow at me, his face ruggedand somber. I know deep down the moment I say I’m not, Grayson would blow off this game and get me out of here. But I’m not going to let Shane dictate my life anymore.

I nod, glancing at Shane again, noticing there’s a darkness under his eyes. It’s nice to see he finally has a reminder of our time together.

Try covering that up with makeup or explaining that one, dipshit.

To my surprise, Shane gives a nod in my direction. I don’t do anything.

Grayson leans into me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. It’s a tender touch. A gentle reminder I’m safe with him, the boy who stole my heart, but really, I gave it to him like a gift. I can tell by the look on his face he wants nothing more than to kick the shit out of Shane, and I’m impressed with his self-control right now. “He’ll never hurt you again,” he assures me, his lips meeting my temple.

We stand against the fence along right field, the slap of the tightly wound cotton and leather hitting baseball gloves flowing through the air.

My eyes find Grayson’s, the brown in them honey colored, his hair lighter than I remember it being. Or maybe it’s the tears in my eyes constricting my vision.

Staring at him now, I see that he has so much agony etched in his face. It makes me think of his scars, and mine, and how together, we’re a fucking mess for sure. I’d never thought about how Grayson felt after we slept together. I never asked. And I kinda feel like a jerk for not asking.

It’s no surprise that the night we slept together, we acted on impulse. I wanted him to take my virginity because I was so damn in love with him. It didn’t matter what happened when we left that room. But it did.

“I’m serious,” Grayson says, pulling me from my thoughts. “If it’s too much, I’ll take you back. You say the word. You don’t have to be here unless you’re comfortable.”

At first, I don’t say anything because the idea of runningaway to Grayson’s room and being alone with him is appealing. But then I remember that I don’t want to hide away forever. Not anymore. I did enough of that with Shane trying to deflect what was happening to me. “No. I don’t want him taking this from me too. And it’s not me I’m worried about.” I touch my hand to his stomach and motion between us. “I’m worried about what he’ll do to you. He thinks we’re together.”

“I don’t give a shit.” He snorts, the teenage Grayson I remember emerging. He was so feisty around fifteen and sixteen and rebelled against everyone. You told him he couldn’t do something and he did it to prove he could. I see it now, that same mentality trying to come out. I bet he’s thinking about kissing me in front of Shane to get under his skin. “I’m not worried one bit at him confronting me.” Grayson dips his head slightly to catch my stare, his hands on my hips. “Let him think we’re together. I don’t think it would be that much of a lie, would it?”

He has me there. “No, it wouldn’t be.”

It’s clear how effortlessly comfortable I am around Grayson. It’s no wonder I never moved on from him.

My mom once told me you can’t make yourself love someone. But you also can’t make yourself not love someone.

She’s right. Grayson and I are proof of that. He hurt me bad by leaving, but here I am, still in love.

Grayson bumps my shoulder again. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him if he touches you again.”

“Don’t kill him. I don’t want you going to jail for me.”

He chuckles and gives me the look. The one that screams I’ve lost my mind. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I still maintain my innocence that I closed that damn gate behind me.”

“Tell that to the Petersons’ cows.”

I smile at our banter, my eyes drifting to the field where Josh is warming up. Josh and Grayson played baseball all through high school. While Josh gravitated more toward football, Graysonhad a passion for baseball and never played any other sport. He was so good he received a scholarship to Alabama State but ultimately chose the military. He could have made a career out of baseball easily, but for Grayson, it had always just been for fun.

“Do you remember how to play?” I ask, wondering what he’s thinking

---