Page 137 of Really Truly Yours

“Take a load off. You’ve had a busy morning.”

I stare at the fireplace. It’s freestanding, open on the opposite side, giving a glimpse into another room. The narrow opening is far longer than tall and makes me think of an updated version of something from a fifties movie. The television above consumes most of the rest of the wall.

A squeeze massages my nape. “You going somewhere, Sydnee Lou?”

There’s humor in the lift of Gray’s brow. “Of course not.”

His hand nudges. “Then sit back and relax with me.” He reclines his head. “I’m going to close my eyes for a minute, if that’s alright.”

Pressed against him, I shut my lids too.

They won’t stay down. Sam didn’t act thrilled when I told him I was meeting Gray in Houston. I also suspect a different part of him was relieved to be freed up to deal with Max without dealing with me. After our talk last week, I had an epiphany. Sam might long for family as much as I do. If he and Max can have a shot at true brotherhood, who am I to stand in the way?

Giant if in my humble opinion.

Gray retracts his arm, settling it against his thigh in the groove formed by our touching legs. His fingers make mini strokes near my knee.

I want to fall into his touch, and I want to run.

I can’t do both.

The prayers I attempt don’t materialize. When I was fourteen, in the days before Max went entirely off the rails, I had a crush on one of his friends. The guy invited me to watch a movie with them and their group at his house. We cuddled on the sofa and laughed at the comedy’s dumb jokes. The others eventually drifted off. If I had a nickel for every extra hand Cal sprouted the instant we were alone, I’d be a rich woman today.

Before that, when I was thirteen, one of Dad’s partying buddies kept cornering me and…suggesting things. I managed to slip away to Grammy’s, and from that day on, I made myself scarce whenever that crew came around.

“You’re nervous.”

I jolt at Gray’s deep murmur. “No.”

His eyes roll over, contemplative.

From where we sit, the ground outside is nonexistent. The wall of glass frames steely towers and blue skies dotted with puffy clouds. I feel like I’m floating with them, but I’m scared to death of tumbling to earth.

I break my fixation and watch his fingernail etch a tiny line in the fabric above my knee.

“Have I done something, Sydnee?”

“Why would you ask that?”

His chuckle is humorless. “You tell me.” The same finger switches to tracing miniature circles in the same spot. His eyes, deep with thought, find my face.

Why must he do this? Holding myself together isn’t as easy as it looks, the rat. I’m a visitor to a planet that breathes a different brand of oxygen than my earth.

I’m a grown woman. How can I be this incompetent with men?

“You said you trusted me.”

“I do.”

“Right.” Graveness wipes away Gray’s easygoing mien. He withdraws, resting his arms onto his knees, staring at his locked hands. “May I ask you a question?”

Chapter 30

Grayson

Sydnee fiddles with the band of her simple watch. “Okay.”

I’d laugh at the abrupt horror swimming in her pool-blue eyes, but there isn’t a single thing funny about fear, not on Sydnee.