18
IRINA
Idowned the wine from my glass, tipping my head back and letting the liquid pour down my throat in a way that felt like a crime. I’d spent more than I cared to admit on the bottle, even knowing that Grant would bring his own wine when he arrived for our yearly tradition.
The memory of the loss of my mother seemed even closer in the wake of Scar’s stinging rejection, and the answers I so desperately wanted felt like they hovered just out of my grasp. People didn’t just disappear into thin air, and while part of me wanted to question why I even cared, the other part of me still clung to the hope that maybe she would have returned to me someday, if something hadn’t gotten in the way. Even as unlikely as that was, given there was evidence of her being within the city for months after she’d walked out of the Ryan Estate.
The knock at the door made me swallow the last drops of wine in a gulp, the liquid courage forcing me to set my wine glass on the counter and turn for the door. Usually our yearly tradition found me wrapped in my snuggliest pajamas with a worn robe wrapped around myself and my hair tossed into a messy bun.
But I was through with men who didn’t want me. I was done holding out for a man who gave me butterflies in my stomach. I’d found him, and he wasn’t the man who could offer me safety and security.
He wasn’t the man who would love me and stand by me for the rest of my life.
That man had been there since I was a girl, waiting for any sign from me that I might want the same thing. I’d meant it when I told Scar that Grant would love me.
Of that, I had no doubt. He knew all the worst pieces of me, the jagged little edges that I’d sharpened into weapons to use when my insecurities became too much.
I’d tried to hurt him so many times, but he always saw right through my bullshit.
Shoving away thoughts of how Scar had bent me over the arm of my sofa and fucked me the night before, I answered the door to find Grant’s smiling face on the other side. What was usually his trademark grin was softer in the dim lighting, the sympathy in it making my heart clench.
He was the smart choice. The one that wouldn’t lead to complete and total heartbreak. I forced myself to smile through my nerves, through the doubt that plagued me.
Was this just another reckless moment? Another reaction to something I couldn’t control, making a choice impulsively that I would ultimately regret?
“You look like you’re feeling better,” Grant said, cocking a brow as he dropped his gaze down to my tank and shorts. The silky pajama set was far different from what I usually wore around him, in my attempt to keep the lines drawn in the sand between us.
To keep him in the friend zone where I’d thought I wanted him to stay.
“Yeah, I think it was just some kind of allergy,” I lied, offering an explanation as to why I hadn’t met him at the club. I’d considered going after Scar walked out on me the night before, but all I could successfully manage to do was make my way into the bathroom and let the steaming water in my shower pour over me. “A good night’s sleep helped.”
He handed me the flowers clutched in his hand as he stepped into my apartment, letting me bring them to my nose and inhale the pretty scent deeply. “I’ll order the pizza and pour the wine,” he said, going and sitting on the sofa. He pulled his phone from his pocket as I stepped into the kitchen to grab a vase, unwrapping the stems of the flowers and depositing them inside.
“I ordered Angel’s, actually,” I said, not able to meet his gaze. All the deviations from our tradition felt wrong, but I hoped they communicated what I didn’t think I’d ever be able to say in words.
That I wanted to try to change things for us. That everything had changed for me, even if seeing him sitting so close to where Scar had fucked me did make me flush.
“Okay, sounds good,” Grant said, tucking his cell back into the pocket of his sweats. He rose from the sofa, depositing the bottle of expensive wine still clutched in one of his hands onto the island counter. Stripping off his jacket, he draped it over the back of one of the bar stools. He made himself at home, his familiarity with my space showing as he moved to the cabinets and grabbed two clean wine glasses and my corkscrew while I fidgeted with the flowers nervously. “You sure you’re alright?”
I nodded, smiling at him as I turned to face him. He pulled the cork out of our wine, carefully pouring me a glass and handing it to me. Our fingers brushed as I accepted it, the touch feeling like a betrayal to everything I’d felt in that first night with Scar at Indulgence.
I couldn’t do this. I wanted my sweatpants and the comfort of what was familiar. I wanted to never take another risk again, but that very knowledge that I couldn’t spend the rest of my life alone, waiting on someone who was bad for me, was what forced me forward.
“Do you have feelings for me?” I asked, wincing when the words rushed out. I hadn’t ever wanted to speak of them, hadn’t had any desire to know the truth before, so convinced that it would ruin everything, or at least make things awkward between us.
But the pulsing need to know swelled inside of me, driving me to do something to take back my power—prove that I wouldn’t be a woman who waited around for a man to use and discard me whenever he wanted.
I had options. Scar wasn’t one of them.
Grant sputtered into his wine, the question having clearly caught him off guard. He set the glass down on the counter carefully, raising his gray eyes to meet mine. “Where is this coming from?” he asked, stretching a hand forward on the surface.
His fingertips brushed against mine, a wave of comfort washing through me the moment his skin touched mine. It wasn’t the electricity of Scar’s touch, more like the comfort of family, and a dejected sigh tried to escape my mouth. I pulled it back, refusing to let it go free.
“I just need to know,” I said, taking a step closer to him. My fingers shifted up to the skin of his wrist, toying with the smooth inside of it. His gaze dropped to the touch, staring at it in fixation as his eyes drifted closed slowly.
“We shouldn’t have this conversation tonight,” he murmured, his voice soft and gentle and everything that Scar’s wasn’t.
“Why not?” I asked, tipping my head back and sinking my teeth into my lower lip as the fear of another rejection flooded me.
I’d been so certain. So positive that Grant had romantic feelings for me.
“You’re vulnerable right now. I’m not going to take advantage of you like that, Iri,” he said, lifting his arm to touch the side of my jaw. It was barely the ghost of a touch, hardly a whisper of his skin against mine.
But the gentleness in his eyes as he touched me shocked me, as if I was something to be protected. Something he treasured.
So why didn’t that hint of a touch make my heart race in my chest?
“What if I want you to take advantage of me?” I asked, trying to push past my embarrassment.
“You’re worth far more than one night. If you want this,” he said, pausing and raising his brows as he stepped closer, so his body was only a breath away from mine. “Then you should know that it won’t be something temporary for me. If we do this, I want you aware of what you’re doing and understanding what it means for both of us. I’ve waited a long time for you to see me, Iri. I can wait one more day for you to be sure this is what you want.”
“What does it mean for both of us?” I asked, my lashes fluttering as his gray eyes seemed to harden to silver as he studied me.
“It means you’ll be mine. It means I do not share, and it means that I’m not talking about something temporary. You and I’ve had a lifetime to get to know each other; we’ll skip straight past the talking phase and I will not take it slow with you once I’ve had you,” he said, the words lighting something inside of me.
It was everything I wanted. I just didn’t know that I wanted it with him.
It wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to me.
But life wasn’t fair.