Page 66 of All I Have Left

Dust floats up from where he tossed his mitt, and by the smirk on his lips, I’d say he’s up to something. Standing, I reach for my folding chair and the bag to put it away, distracted by how sweaty Grayson is and left wondering why sweat looks so good on men.

Tucked away in the shadows of the dugout, he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the ground beside his glove and takes a step toward me. Momentarily, I’m distracted by his muscles and those damn tattoos I still haven’t asked about. I wonder what made him get them and if they hold meaning. I’ve been able to decipher one while he was sleeping the other night. It’s a series of seven matches and each one lit at different degrees. The last match is dust. I wonder why he chose seven.

His breathing is heavy and I take in his stomach and chest, so tight and strong, flexing as he moves closer to me.

“You did good out there,” I say, making small talk as I pack up my bag. “Aside from provoking him.”

Grayson rolls his eyes and reaches for a clean shirt in his bag. “He deserves far worse.”

“I know he does, but pissing him off is only going to make him do something stupid.”

Standing upright, he yanks the shirt over his head and lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes darting to mine, and then lower to the hoodie I have tied around my waist. “Sorry.”

What’s he sorry for? Checking me out? Heat licks my face and I contemplate putting the hoodie back on, but it’s too damn hot out. Thankfully, Grayson hands me another T-shirt from inside his bag.

“Here, put this on.” Though he’s smiling, I can tell he’s not pleased by what I’m wearing. “Let me guess, Frankie dressed you.”

I nod but don’t say anything as I slip on the oversized shirt. It smells like him and I fight the urge to sniff it more. “I might keep this one,” I tell him, my eyes shifting to behind the bleachers where I notice Sheriff Hicks walking with Wyatt toward us.

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t.” Grayson glances over his shoulder, and then back to me, his focus wavering between the Gatorade in his hand and my face. Reaching up, he scratches the back of his head and I can’t help but stare at his biceps. “Would you want to go to dinner with me tonight? Just the two of us?”

My heart feels like it’s about to jump out of my chest. I stare at his face, which is splotchy from the sun and illuminated golden rays. I want to reach out and touch his lips. I want to run my fingers over them and taste the blue Gatorade he’s been drinking. I have no idea why I have those thoughts, but I do. And then I think about his question. A date? With Grayson? The thought of being alone with him again sends a thrill throughme and I reply before I have time to process what it might mean. “Yeah, definitely.”

He laughs at my eagerness but steps away once Hicks is within a few feet of us. “Evie,” Hicks says, nodding. “Honey, can I have a word with you for a moment?”

Fear shoots through me and I find myself feeling lightheaded. Probably from my lack of eating these past few days, and the heat, but I also have a feeling I know what Hicks is going to say. I told you so. Or, I asked you if there were problems and every time I told him no. Is he going to take offense to it? Is lying worth denying a protection order?

I don’t know. This is something I haven’t had to navigate and shouldn’t have to.

I sigh and look out at the parking lot. Hicks stands next to me. “They said you stopped by the station.”

I nod. “I did. They gave me a couple business cards for attorneys.” I glance over at Grayson, who’s still about five feet away, standing next to Wyatt as they talk quietly to one another. Whatever Wyatt is saying, I don’t think Grayson is agreeing with by the grimace he’s wearing.

Hicks tips his head, catching my eyes. “I’ll do what I can to get a protection order expedited, but you’ll need to see the judge Friday morning. In the meantime, you need to stay far away from the Larson boy.”

Again, I nod and drop my eyes to the dead grass beneath my feet.

“Why didn’t you say something to me earlier, darlin?”

I shrug, feeling the pressure of everything on my shoulders. They feel so heavy I sag my weight forward. “I didn’t know what to say and if I did, it would have only made it worse. That’s the thing with all this, a piece of paper, you telling him to stay away from me, or whatever happens from here on out, doesn’t mean anything to him.” I lift my eyes to his, hoping he sees the desperation. “To men who hit girls, telling them to stay away, is like a slapin their face. Sure, he might listen, but knowing Shane, he won’t. All this is going to do is make him want to hurt me more. And when he can’t hurt me, he’s going to look for another way that he can.” My eyes drift to Grayson. “Hicks, I’m no longer worried about me. It’s Grayson you should be worried about. Shane—”

“Is not going to hurt anyone. I’m watching him,” he says, interrupting me, a sudden edge I haven’t seen from him before. His jaw clenches. “All of us are. Just stay away from him and I’ll handle it.”

There’s not much else I can say to him. I know how this works. Hicks was the sheriff when we moved here, dealt with my dad, and to see me, the little girl he comforted the night my dad attacked my mom, in the same situation, well, I can’t imagine how that must feel to him. I can also understand the protectiveness he must have for me.

“Thank you,” I tell him, reaching up to hug him.

“Anything for you, Evie Stevie,” he says, returning the hug and then excuses himself. I watch him walking away, smiling as I remember the nickname he gave me at six years old and why. The night my mom was put into the hospital, Hicks gave me a stuffed bunny. Told me it was for protection. For years, I took that damn bunny everywhere with me. Her name was Stevie. Hence the nick name, Evie Stevie, because we were one. Always together. To this day, I still have Stevie on my dresser.

Grayson approaches me, Hicks and Wyatt now in conversation. “You okay?” Grayson watches my face as if he’s trying to decipher every flicker of emotion.

“Yeah. So, that date tonight?” I ask, forcing a smile. “Where are you taking me?”

I can do this. Be normal and forget what happened. I want to. I’m determined to replace bad memories with good ones.

“Anywhere you want, as long as I’m with you.” There’s a flash of something on his face. Regret, maybe, but it’s deeper. As if he thinks this situation with Shane is all because he left. And it’snot. That’s so unfair and selfish. Just because he left doesn’t mean I fell into Shane’s arms. I let that happen.

And with Grayson, I’m going to pick up the pieces of this broken heart and reassemble myself. Maybe not for me, but for him because he deserves this too.

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