Page 104 of The Pass Protection
The beating of my heart increases as I rememberwhyI was experiencing an attack on a night when I was supposed to be having fun celebrating with my friends. Fighting Crew’s hold, I roll over until I’m facing him. Brown eyes peek through the slits of his eyelids as he watches me.
“You wanna talk about it?” His deep voice is husky with exhaustion. The dark circles under his eyes tell me he didn’t sleep last night. Guilt swirls in my belly at the thought of him losing sleep over me and my fucked-up situation.
“Hefoundme.” I rush the words out before I lose my nerve. Crew whips his head back as if I slapped him.
“What do you meanhefound you? How?”
Closing my eyes, I rest my forehead on his bare chest, unable to make eye contact. “I don’t know how, but the school posted a photo from the charity tournament. He must have some kind of facial recognition or my name in a search that’ll trigger an alert if posted online.”
“Bret, I think it’s time to look into your options.”
I stiffen at his admission. I know he’s right, but deep down, I’m terrified of what’s going to happen. I’m scared no one will believe me and my character will be questioned, which will drag my parents and brother through the mud. No one needs that kind of drama, especially my dad, who’s already facing issues with the media.
“Baby, I know it’s hard, but last night was really fucking crazy. I thought—” His voice breaks as he swallows a lump of emotions. “I thought I was going to lose you last night.”
Springing my eyes up, I meet his gaze and find moisture lining his mocha irises. My heart breaks at the sight of the vulnerability that meets me. “I’m sorry I put you through that. It must’ve been awful for you to witness.”
“Rebel, you have nothing to apologize for.” He cups my face, brings his lips to mine, and presses into a searing kiss. I melt into the kiss, thankful to have found him.
Pulling away, I roll away from him before sliding out of the covers. I’m still dressed in my athletic shorts. My jersey has been removed, leaving me in a sports bra. Crew rolls to his back, the sheet clinging to his waist, as his broad, muscular chest is completely exposed. I stare at the cross above his heart—the pure heart that cares deeply. I wonder if his dad was watching over him and saw that we needed each other in our lives.
“Where are you running off to so early?” His eyes are closed as his bent armrests over his face.
“I need to go have a conversation with Grant that I should have had months ago.” Moving back to the bed, I kneel on the mattress, resting my hands in my lap. Crew’s eyes peek open as he watches me. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess, putting you in the middle, and asking you to keep us a secret. I never should have done that. It wasn’t fair to you, Crew.”
He sits up, the sheet falling away, as he moves closer to me. Cupping my face, he gazes down at me from where he kneels in front of me. “Bret Addison Campbell, you have nothing to apologize for. I would do anything for you. Hell, if you wanted to keep us a secret forever, I would have done that. Selfishly, I loved having you to myself.”
“I don’t deserve you, Crew Riggsby.”
“That’s just it, baby. You deserve the whole damn world, and try as I might, I will ensure you have everything you want in this life. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Pulling him in for a hug, I squeeze him tight as I bury my face into his chest, and I let a few tears break free. Crew isn’t in a hurry to break our connection, he lets me take all of the time I need to regroup. Once I feel ready, I slip out of his embrace and out of his door.
The apartment is quiet as I walk down the hallway toward my bedroom. Skipping the shower I desperately need, I change into a pair of joggers and an oversized hoodie. Looking at the logo, I see it’s one of Crew’s, and I debate changing out of the Silo Bay Hawks sweatshirt.
Fuck it. I could wear a ballgown or a plastic bag, and Grant would find a reason to hate it. He’s going to be livid no matter what I show up in, might as well wear what I want.
After a fast trip to the bathroom, where I empty a full bladder and scrub last night’s stale beer taste from my mouth, I grab my keys and slip out of the apartment.
Twenty-five minutes later, I’m standing outside Grant’s townhouse doors with two coffees in hand. Rapping my knuckles on the metal door, I wait for him to open it. When I think he isn’t going to open, he swings the door open. I’m met with a disheveled Grant whose hair is sticking out in a hundred different directions and a scowl mars his features. His nose flares as his eyes flash with anger.
“Addy,” he grits my name through his teeth, which causes my chin to wobble. I can’t explain the wave of emotion that hits me. Maybe it’s the realization that I’ve caused more pain in our already strained relationship or the fact that we are growing further apart each day. Our lives are going in different directions, leading farther and farther away from each other.
Grant’s eyes soften slightly as he holds the door open wider for me to enter. Crossing the threshold, I hand him one of the steaming to-go cups from a local coffee shop, which is why it took me so long to get to Grant’s. Fresh cleaning scents welcome me as I move further into the open space. A large sectional faces a TV with an ottoman in the middle. A smaller kitchen sits off to the left, facing the living room. Not a decoration or personal detail is in the sterile space.
As I sit on the leather couch, the door shuts behind me with a slight slam. I bend my knees in front of me, burrowing into the corner of the armrest, and hold my legs.
Grant sits opposite me, legs spread wide as he rests his coffee in his hands. Silence falls over the room, neither of us speaking. I am still trying to figure out where to even begin. Would he rather hear about the panic attack? What brought me to CTU? Or my relationship with Crew? The number of white lies and secrets stacked up, their height almost resembling Mount Everest.
With a deep exhale, I meet Grant’s stare. “Where do you want me to start? I have no idea where to even begin this conversation.”
“I don’t fucking know, Addy. Maybe try the beginning? The part I’ve been begging you to talk to me about.” He runs his hand through his hair as he rests against the back of the couch. “It’s been nothing but secrets since you arrived. I’m glad to have you here, but it’s been nothing but secrecy.”
“That’s my right, Grant. I told you I would tell you when I was ready.”
“How long have you been fucking my teammate? Myfriend?” I reel back as if I’d been slapped. His tone drips with so much disgust I think it would have hurt less if he would have called me a slut.
“I guess I deserve that,” I whisper before resting my chin on my knees. “If I start telling you everything that’s happened, I need you to do me a favor.”
