Page 123 of Really Truly Yours

I pull off the foil top and sink a spoon into the cream, white with burgundy swirls. I mix until the concoction is pink. Wandering to the window in the breakfast nook, I peer through a part in the curtain. Gray will be here, I know he will.

More than my knees go weak when my mind replays our kiss. I’d like for him to hold me right now.

As I take in a spoonful of yogurt, my gaze lands on the two-page printout with Sam’s logo on the header. A pair of numbers in the righthand column show my payments. I flip the page out of boredom. For all Sam’s flaws, he’d never cheat me.

Another number jumps out, alone in its column, unlike the clutter of charges filling the other. Five-hundred. The description reads, cash.

I paid with a card both times and never an even five-hundred. Sam needs my bookkeeping more than he knows.

The date says the fifteenth. That was last week. Saturday. The day Gray told Tripp about Donny and came by to, well, came because he needed someone, I think. Right, and then Sam showed up. They were talking outside, and…

A guy like that expects things, especially after he shells out…

That’s as far as Sam got, but I can finish the sentence for him. Especially after he shells out hundreds to fix a girl’s car.

That was also the visit Sam suddenly tacked on several more days to my car’s finish date.

Heat, different from last night’s, sweeps through me.

Sam or Gray. Sam and Gray. Both knew darned well this was not acceptable. The spoon in my yogurt splats onto the table, spreading mauve goo as I slap the cup down. Yes, I want some support in my life. Moral support. Encouragement.

I don’t need other people’s money. Dependency is a trap, one I refuse to walk into.

A car door sucks closed. Oh, I am so ready for Grayson Smith. Apparently, the last time we had this conversation didn’t do the trick—but this one will. Perfect timing, buddy.

I stalk onto the porch. He’s a sight in his church clothes. Dark slacks, pressed shirt, tie. His eyes light the second he lays them on me, and his boyish grin threatens my resolve to the point it almost turns tail and runs.

I ex my arms across my chest. “Why did you pay for my car repair?”

The loss of light in his amazing smile gets me in the chest.

“You knew good and well how I felt about this kind of thing.” I snap the statement toward him.

Still on the wet grass, he hangs his thumbs on his belt, briefly glancing toward the invoice. “Yes. And I messed up.”

“You sure did!” My voice feels shaky.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t believe it.”

His cheek, freshly shaved for a change, gets sucked into his teeth like meat into a grinder. “I realized I’d goofed almost immediately, but it was too late to take it back.”

I snort.

Gray’s eyes narrow, the gold in them flashing like I’m the one who dished out disrespect. “You know what? I take that back, Sydnee. I was staring dead into your brother’s eyes when I realized you’d be ticked. So, yeah, I could have undone it. I chose not to.”

Mentally, I step back.

He puts a toe on the porch. “Because I didn’t want to. You needed help, and I wanted to give it.”

“I did not need help!”

Hands in his pockets, he kicks back on the post, the rotted out one I warned him of that first day. “You going to stick to that story?”

How dare he! Sure, I would have had to pay my car insurance late, to ask for an extension and ultimately paid a late fee on my utility bill. Maybe gone carless for another month.

“I’m not lying.” Say it with a straight face, girl. “I can take care of myself, Grayson Smith.”

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