Page 79 of Built to Fall
After a second, his shoulders loosen. “I’m fine. Just… wow.”
Abby turns back toward us, hands on her hips. “You’re going to be the coolest uncle. I already decided.”
Claire snorts. “Debatable.”
“And Lina can obviously help you babysit,” Abby adds, winking at me.
I cough into my coffee. “Uh?—”
“Abby,” Grant says with a sigh. “I already told you, Lina and I?—”
“I heard you the first time, Gigi.”
“I feel like you guys would be good together,” Claire chimes in.
“Exactly!” Abby gleams. “It’s clear she doesn’t take your shit. You need someone like that.”
I hold up my hands, halting the two of them. “Woah. I’ve barely come to terms with beingfriendswith Grant. Trust me, nothing is going to happen between us.”
They both give us a suspicious look, and Grant leans back in his chair, watching me like he’s trying to figure out how I’m not running for the hills.
Honestly? I’m wondering the same thing.
Because somehow, against every rule of self-preservation I usually live by, I’menjoyingthis.
The pancakes. The teasing. The way the Vandenbergs pull people in like gravity. How Grant’s knee keeps brushing against mine under the table.
Maybe, for the first time in a long time, I’m not just surviving a morning.
I’m living it.
“Mom would be so excited if she were here,” Grant says suddenly, making everyone in the room go still.
Abby’s and Claire’s eyes fill with tears, and I can tell by Grant’s voice that he himself is getting choked up. “God, Abs, she’d be so happy for you.”
Abby presses a hand to her mouth, nodding quickly as her eyes well over. Claire ducks her head, swiping at her cheek with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.
Coach Vandenberg crosses the room and pulls Abby into a hug, then gestures for Claire to join them too. The three of them stand there, arms wrapped around each other in a messy, tearful huddle.
Grant watches them, his jaw tight, like he’s holding himself together with sheer force of will.
Without thinking, I reach over and slip my hand into his under the table.
His fingers immediately curl around mine. He doesn’t look at me, but he doesn’t let go either.
The moment passes. The tears turn into laughter when Claire mutters something about their mom haunting them if they name the baby something stupid. Abby swears loudly and starts arguing back, and just like that, the kitchen floods with noise again.
Grant squeezes my hand once before finally letting go, standing, and stacking the empty plates without being asked. I follow his lead, gathering mugs and forks, and head toward the sink.
Without even trying, Grant and I have found this strange, stubborn pocket of peace between us. I’m beginning to realize that being friends with Grant is not so bad.
Sure, he can be an asshole, but I’m a bitch.
Yes, him being a man-whore isn’t the greatest image, but it doesn’t affect me any.
Maybe friendship doesn’t hit you all at once. Maybe it’s not supposed to feel like a lightning strike.
Sometimes it sneaks up on you, quietly building until you look up and realize it’s there, like a song you don’t realize you’re humming until it’s already stuck in your head.
