Page 6 of Checked Out by the Grinch
“I know,” Evie says. “Now call the hot guy with the rough hands and see if he’s free. You can thank me later.”
I tuck Kade’s jacket on him while he’s snuggled into Aunt Evie’s arms, followed by his hat, before kissing his head. “Have fun with your crazy auntie tonight. Mommy loves you.”
Kade mumbles something unintelligible, already halfway to dreamland.
I smile, heart tugging in that bittersweet way it always does when I let him go, even just for a night. “Text me if he gets fussy.”
Evie waves a hand. “Please. I’ve got snacks, a stack of Christmas cartoons, and the stamina of a woman who hasn’t had to chase a toddler full-time all week. We’re going to have a blast. Just promise me you’ll be reckless. You need it.”
I roll my eyes, blow her a kiss, and lock the door behind them as the wind picks up. Evie only lives a few houses down, right off Main, so I watch until their silhouettes disappear into the soft glow of the porch lights, Kade’s little dinosaur hatbobbing as she situates him into his car seat and drives the two minutes back to her place.
The house is quiet now. Really quiet. A rare kind of silence that feels both foreign and indulgent. I lean against the door for a moment, letting the hush settle into my bones, then I exhale.
Reckless.Maybe I should be reckless.
For a second, I let my mind wander into the darkness. What if I were reckless? What if I called Grayson right now and told him to come over? What if I offered to do anything he asked? What if I let go of the routine and the rules, and I took what I wanted?
A warming pulse throbs between my legs. Apparently, a part of me likes that idea… a lot.
I imagine his eyes lingering, his voice rumbling, and those big, strong shoulders flexing when he bends me over.
Okay, I need a drink. A really cold drink, except I don’t reach for one. I reach for my phone, thumb hovering over Grayson’s name. I could text him. He deserves a thank you. A little something to keep the thread between us from fraying.
I type,‘Hope your book guy has good news. Thanks again for today.’
Then I stare at it.
Too formal, and I didn’t mention anything about dicking me down. That was the most important part.
I delete it and try again. ‘If you’re still up later, I owe you a drink, or a cookie, or a thank you hug. Your pick.’
Oh God, I sound like a needy little mess.
I delete the message and toss my phone on the couch before landing there myself. I wasn’t made for one-night stands and hot guys with strong shoulders. I was made for this couch and a bag of chips with an ice cream chaser.
Still, I crack one eye open and glance at the phone, the dark screen daring me to pick it up again.
I don’t. I can’t. There’s nothing to say. He’ll text me when he’s ready.
And if he doesn’t?
God, what am I doing? I press the heels of my palms into my eyes. I don’t have the energy to get fixated on some guy right now. I should be searching the house for change, looking for things I could sell, researching how much a spare kidney could earn me on the black market.
I can’t do this!
Buzz. My phone vibrates on the couch beside me, and my heart tightens.
Oh God! It’s him! It has to be him. I’m not expecting a call from anyone else.
I reach for the phone and flip it over, staring down at the screen with the anticipation of a very sick person who needs a mental health checkup immediately.
Corey: I’m short on child support this month.
My chest tightens, and rage blooms where hope was standing. This man is going to be the death of me. No greeting, no apology, just the same old stuff. Drop the weight and expect me to carry it.
My fingers hover over the screen, itching to respond, to say something sharp or tired or honest, but I don’t. I don’t give him the satisfaction of my anger. I won’t allow him to see me upset anymore. Hell, when we were together, the man didn’t care when I was upset. What difference would it make now?
I lean against the counter, arms crossed tightly over my chest as I try to remember what I ever saw in him in the first place. He could make me feel like the center of the universe one minute and a complete burden the next… and I stayed. I stayed and I let him play the game. I let him bend the rules, twist apologies, and let me feel invisible.
