Grace. I really want to see Grace again.
Chapter Four
Shelli
“Grace. I told him my name was Grace.”
I’m facedown in the pillow, feeling like the cheapest whore in Bedford Park.
My cousin Amelia tsks at me on the other end of the line. “Wow. You are not living up to my mom’s name. She would be very disappointed.”
I roll over, covering my face with my hands. My phone is now lying on my chest on speakerphone. “Please. Aunt Grace was no saint.”
“True. But still, Shelli. What in the world?”
“I don’t know,” I groan, running my hands over my nose and mouth. “I got swept up in the whole thing. He was looking at me—like, really looking at me—and I thought he knew who I was. I thought he fucking saw me.”
“I told you to let go of that crush a long time ago.” I can hear the disdain in her voice. “He wasn’t interested in you, never has been. Like you’ve said many times, it’s as if he doesn’t even know you’re there. Why in the world would you think, after ten years of being ignored, he finally sees you and wants to bang?”
I press my lips together. “Because I was looking mighty hot and my boobs were showing from under your ‘Trix aren’t just for kids’ shirt?”
“I knew you stole my shirt!”
I let out a long breath. Amelia is more my sister than my own sister. We’re very close, which is crazy since Amelia’s three years older than I am, and my sister, Posey, is only ten months younger. But Posey is just a different kind of girl. She’s brilliant and athletic. While I am somewhat athletic, I have more of a creative brain. She has to know all the facts and how to apply them. She makes thought-out decisions. I jumped into bed with a guy I’ve been infatuated with and who has ignored me for ten years because I thought he knew who I was. I didn’t even ask. Posey would have asked, made sure he was with the right person, and questioned his motives.
We’re different. Obviously.
But Amelia has always been my better half. We love the same things, we get excited about sparkly stuff, and we love being together. I’m pretty sure I annoy the shit out of Posey, and she sure as hell annoys me with her dry sense of humor. I love her, but she isn’t the person I tell everything to.
“I just wanted him so bad.”
“And now you’re just a little notch on his bedpost.”
“Shit, I’m a huge notch. I made him squeal.”
“Nice.” She sounds impressed, and my lips curve.
“It was,” I agree, but then my grin falls. “I just thought it was happening. I thought he saw me in a different light. It was so perfect. He was more than I ever could have imagined. He felt so good, and I felt good. I don’t know. It sucks.”
“Yeah, it does, because I’m telling you, your imaginary Aiden is nothing like real Aiden. He’s actually a real manwhore.”
I shake my head. “He isn’t. He’s a twenty-seven-year-old dude in the NHL. They live for the speed on the ice and the fastness of the girls. He got a bad rap with everything that happened, but I’m telling you, he isn’t that guy. He’s a good guy.”
“Always making excuses for him.”
“I’m not. Normal single men in their twenties want sex and only sex. Not everyone is like Prince Chandler.”
Amelia laughs, and it fills me with such joy even with how low I feel about myself right now. Her laugh is so happy and carefree. It’s refreshing to hear her like this. After a nasty and disastrous first marriage, she found Chandler Moon. Her Prince Charming. Her forever. I can’t help but be jealous of how great he is to her and how much they love each other. He wanted her from the moment he met her. He was ready to lay down his life for her and make her his. As much as I hate admitting it since it sounds so childish, I want that. I want that epic love story. The one with the dramatic declaration of love that is the beginning of my forever. Every time my mom and dad get a little drunk on their end-of-the-week wine, their story almost always comes up.
First and foremost, my aunt Victoria is an asshole. She’s a money-hungry whorebag who kissed my dad to make my mom break up with him. She did it for my grandma, who didn’t want my mom to be with my dad. Don’t know why—my dad is basically the best person to ever walk this earth, but my grandma didn’t like him, which is probably the reason I’ve never met any of those people. I have my dad’s family, and that’s it. My mom always says, “Blood doesn’t matter if they hurt you.” In her case, it’s true. She has more friends she would give her left tit for than anyone in her own family. Can’t blame her, given how everything went down.