Page 78 of Fake It Till We Fall
It took me a second to process, and then the heat rushed to my cheeks as I realized what might have happened. “Oh no. I haven’t?—”
He gave a sharp shrug, already retreating. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head, and my heart cracked at the coldness of his expression. “You don’t owe me an explanation, do you?”
“It’s not?—”
“This is what you want.” He cut me off. “It always has been.”
I stared at him, my chest tightening. “Grayson. That’s not at all?—”
“Don’t.” His voice cracked slightly before he cleared his throat. He looked away, back to the counter. “Don’t make this any harder.”
“Makewhatany harder?”
The silence stretched between us, sharp and jagged. I wanted to reach him, to shake him, make him see the truth. But he’d already pulled away from me. He’d retreated behind the walls I was so sure we’d broken down.
Before I could find the words to get through to him, to tell him the truth, that I’d turned down the job and I was going to stay in Trickle Creek, Grandma’s door creaked open and she joined us in the little kitchen.
“Morning, you two,” Grandma said, a huge grin on her face. “It’s nice to see you here this morning, Grayson. The coffee smells delicious.”
To his credit, Grayson straightened instantly, his expression smoothing into something unreadable and exceedingly polite. “Good morning, Willa.” He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “I was actually just heading out. There’s something I need to take care of.” He grabbed his coat from the hook by the door before I could stop him. “I’ll see you later.”
And just like that, he was gone, and I was left wondering what the hell had just happened.
I reached for the counter to steady myself, my heart pounding while Grandma stared at me, questions in her eyes that I couldn’t answer.
I closed my hand into a fist, feeling the thin metal of the ring press into my finger while doubt gnawed at me. Had I been wrong about Grayson? About staying? About everything?
Chapter 21
Harper
The card blurred in front of me, Grandma’s neat handwriting swimming across the faded old index card. I’d been staring at all the cards for over half an hour, trying to decide what dish I wanted to tackle first. Which ones I might want to make my own, and those that needed to be preserved because they were already perfect.
I’d made a few little piles, but nothing stuck. I’d shuffled and reshuffled most of the cards more times than I could count. I couldn’t focus on anything. My thoughts wouldn’t settle.
I’d gone over and over things with Grayson the morning after Christmas, and I still couldn’t make sense of any of it. Yes, I understood what hethoughthe knew. After he left, I saw the text from Captain Howard.
Good news. The charter is starting early. Anchors up on New Year’s Eve. Having you aboard would make this season complete. Let me know if you change your mind.
It didn’t take much to figure out that Grayson had seen part of the text and had assumed the worst.
What I couldn’t figure out was why he wouldn’t have talked to me about it. Why had he been so cold and distant toward me, and why, after everything, would he assume that I could just leave without looking back?
With a frustrated sigh, I set the box aside and rubbed my temples.
In the days since Christmas, Trickle Creek had experienced a cold snap, and there hadn’t been much in the way of foot traffic in the plaza or shoppers milling about. Everyone was hunkered down at home or in their rental accommodations with cups of hot chocolate and roaring fires to keep them warm.
Which was why a flash of movement outside the frosted window caught my attention.
Grayson.
He was bundled up in a parka with a knit toque, his broad shoulders bent beneath the weight of a stack of folding chairs, his breath visible in the icy air. I watched while he dropped the chairs near the gazebo and the half-assembled stage that was being built for the New Year’s celebration.
He turned to pick up another load, his jaw tight, the scowl noticeable even from a distance. I didn’t miss the way he avoided looking at the restaurant.
Enough was enough.
I shoved back from the table, grabbed my coat off the rack by the door, and stepped out into the cold. “Grayson!”
