Page 95 of Wicked Minds
Logan gives me an unimpressed glare. “Not reassuring, Shortcake.”
With a wry grin, I approach him, sliding my hands up the front of his chest.
“I’m at least staying for a while,” he states in a tone that leaves no room for argument. “Make sure he really is passed out.”
“I don’t think he’s faking,” I comment, trying not to laugh at the way Logan glares at Grayson as if all of this really might be a ruse.
“Well, just in case he is, I’m going to keep an eye on him while we watch a movie.”
“Is that so?”
“Riley,” he growls, narrowing his eyes on me. “You will have to physically drag me out of this apartment. Let’s finish this date day off with a cuddle on your bed where we can’t hear this asshole’s snores.”
“Ahh, now I get it. This is all a grand ploy to get you into my bed.”
The tension bleeds from Logan’s features as he barks out a laugh, and I squeal as he launches forward and scoops me off the floor. “Baby, when I get you into bed, I can assure you, Grayson will play no part in it.”
29
RILEY
“Call if he wakes up,” Logan insists when I finally convince him to leave. Grayson hasn’t stirred once while we watched our movie, and it’s starting to get late, considering Logan has hockey practice early tomorrow morning. It has taken half an hour of me coaxing him toward the door, and now he’s a brick wall on the threshold. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” he asks with a frown, glancing over my shoulder toward Grayson. “I won’t try anything. I’ll sleep on the floor. Or you can build a pillow wall. I don’t care, I just don’t like leaving you alone with him.”
I smile sweetly at him. “I know. It’s not that I don’t want you to stay or that I don’t trust you to do something I’m uncomfortable with. I simply don’t think having you here when he wakes up is the wisest idea. Besides, if he wakes up halfway reasonable, Grayson and I have some things we need to discuss.”
Logan snorts. “Grayson… reasonable? Maybe if he has a lobotomy in his sleep.”
When Logan remains rigid in the doorway, I press, “I’ll be fine. I promise. Besides, you and Royce are only a few minutes away. I can call you if it sounds like he’s waking up.”
I can tell he still isn’t happy about it, but eventually, he blows out a breath. “Fine, but call if he so much as twitches. I don’t give a shit what time of the night it is.” He finally kisses my lips before murmuring goodnight and walking down the hall.
I watch him disappear before closing the door and leaning against it as I gaze at the outline of Grayson sound asleep on my sofa.
What the fuck do I do now?
The first thing I do is move around the apartment, gathering the handful of photos of me and Rora and shoving them into a bottom drawer where he won’t find them. I’m not ready for those questions if he wakes up and goes snooping around while I’m sleeping.
Once I’m done, I turn to stare at his sleeping form. He’s been conspicuously absent since our… confrontation… in the library. Which begs the question, what happened that brought him to my door tonight?
I still don’t know why he ended up here last weekend either, or what it means that this is where he comes to when he’s drunk.
Stepping closer to the couch, I glance down at the face of the man who made my winter break miserable. Who blames me for everything wrong that’s happened in his life. Even in his passed-out state, he still somehow manages to look angry. His face is pinched, and the frown lines along his forehead must be ingrained into the skin with how often they’re present.
Despite all that, he looks so much like the seventeen-year-old boy I once knew, and I can’t help reaching forward to brush a strand of hair off his forehead.
Several times now, he’s implied he had feelings for me back then. How different would our lives be if I’d known that? If we’d acted on them? If I’d confided in him? If he’d believed me?
Perhaps if we both hadn’t avoided one another in an effort to ignore our feelings, we’d have gotten to know each other. He’dhave known the type of person I was. Would have understood I’m not the type of girl to make something like that up.
So many regrets and what-ifs.
All of them pointless since this is where we’re at. On opposite sides of a ravine with a fast-flowing river of everything we can’t express rushing between us.
Aurora comes to mind, and my lips purse as I observe Grayson’s sleeping face. How much longer can I keep her from him? The thought of telling him is crippling, yet it’s reaching the point that it’s selfish to keep her existence a secret. My reasons for not telling him are selfish and borne from fear.
Telling him would alleviate the tension between him and the guys. It would give Grayson irrefutable proof of his father’s crimes. It would also give Aurora another family member. As much as I may wish that I could be all she needs, I’m not foolish enough to believe that. She needs more than just me. She needs more family, and while Grayson may have been an asshole to me, I know he’s capable of being the brother she needs. If he knew… he’d step up. Iknowit in the very fabric of my being. The teenager I knew, he’s still in there. He’s just buried beneath layers of pain and hurt and betrayal, and not knowing who to trust.
Gathering my courage, I lick my parched lips before blurting in a voice barely above a whisper, “I have a daughter. You have a sister.”
