Grip Trilogy Box Set

“Grip, I’ve been calling you, dude,” Rhyson says.

“I literally just turned my phone back on after the flight from Chicago.” Grip answers Rhyson, but his eyes never stray from me. “Could you guys give me a minute with Bristol?”

“We need to talk about how we’ll handle this,” Rhyson says, but his voice has lost some of its heat. “We need a plan because this has gone the worst kind of viral.”

“Yeah, I know.” Grip sits on the couch against the far wall in my office, stretching his legs out in front of him like we’re not standing naked in a shit storm. “But I need to talk to my girl first.”

Sarah immediately heads for the door, but turns just before leaving.

“His girl!” A sudden bright smile illuminates her face. “I know things look bad right now, but I just want to say yay. Like it’s about time and yay for you guys!”

She scampers into the outer office, and if I wasn’t feeling like the whole world is pointing out the stubborn cellulite on the backs of my thighs, I’d muster a smile.

“I’m not trying to be the hard ass,” Rhyson says. “I hate having to th

ink like this, but we do need to deal with it. It goes without saying that I’m happy for you guys.”

“You could still say it.” Grip’s comment comes softly, but with a mild rebuke. “Your sister needs to know you support her and that she’s more important to you than how this affects my sales.”

Grip’s so right. I hadn’t realized how fragile I was feeling or how anxious I am about Rhyson’s response.

“Bristol.” Rhyson searches my eyes, his softening at whatever he sees there. “You’re more important to me than all of this. I’m sorry if it didn’t feel like it when I came tearing in here. You know how intense we are. You, me, Mom, Dad.”

“It’s okay.” I push the hair behind my ears. “I get it.”

“It isn’t okay.” He leans down to take my hand. “I’ve screwed things up with you more than once. I lumped you in with our parents and didn’t stay in touch. I’ve been an awful brother most of the time, but I love you, Bris.”

He flicks his head toward Grip without looking away from my face. “I’m happy for you, but I’m really just glad this guy can stop moaning like a little bitch about how much he’s into you. It’s so fucking awkward.”

The three of us laugh, and the tension eases some.

Rhyson pulls me to my feet and into a tight hug. He kisses my hair and dips to catch my eyes.

“We all know you’re a badass and don’t need to hear this kind of thing,” he says, even though I do. “But I love you, and you’re so far beyond the best sister a guy could have it isn’t even funny. The investors, this place, so many things that have happened for me wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for you. I want you to know I realize that.”

Tears sting my eyes. Hearing him voice the things I’ve needed to hear, to know for years, moves me deeply, even in the midst of this craziness.

“I’ll give you guys a few minutes,” Rhyson says. “When you’re ready, come to my office and we’ll hammer out a plan to deal with all this.”

Rhyson looks at Grip for a long moment, one brow lifted.

“And you,” Rhyson says to Grip, his voice serious, but his eyes laughing. “Try to keep your hands to yourself.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Lock the door on your way out,” Grip replies. “Or you might see more than you want to see.”

“Oh, I’ve already seen more than I wanted to see. Believe me.”

Grip tosses up both middle fingers, and Rhyson’s laugh taunts us as he leaves the room. It’s quiet in here, incredibly quiet as we stare at one another. What’s felt so special, so intimate, so ours is being maligned and memed. Hashtagged and reposted and ridiculed. In here it’s just us, but it feels like everything and everyone beyond that door is against us.

“Come here.” Grip extends his arms, concern evident in his eyes. I drag my feet to get to him, not because I don’t want him, but because I feel awful. As soon as I’m within grabbing distance, his hands encircle my waist, and he pulls me to his lap.

“Hey.” He nuzzles his nose into my neck, behind my ear. “It’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry.” I turn into him, tucking my head in the warm sleek curve of his neck and shoulder.

“This is on me.” He shakes his head, a self-directed frustration on his face. “You didn’t want to go to my mom’s. You said be careful. I should have listened.”

“I guess we won’t know who leaked it, huh?”