All the air slowly left my lungs and I sat there feeling even more confused, guilty, and somewhat defeated.
“Hypothetically . . .” Graham trailed off, the word sounding like a question.
I looked up and nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“Knox loves his sister. We all do. Any one of us would probably go after someone who hurt her, but Knox would be uncontrollable. He was always beating up people who used the fact that she was gay against her—whether they wanted something out of it, or they were just being assholes and making fun of her. So hypothetically, if all that shit happened, I would help her out once . . . and, yeah, I’d probably even keep it from Knox. Only because I know how he is when it comes to her. But if she came to me a second time, I would tell Knox in a heartbeat. Not only because she would be practically welcoming the destruction her partners always brought on her, but also because at that point, he would definitely deserve to know what was going on with his sister.”
“Okay,” I said on a breath. “Thank you.”
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Grey, who asked you for money?”
“It was a hypothetical situation.”
“Grey.”
“No one asked me, they asked a friend of mine.”
Graham gave me a disbelieving look and ground his teeth. “That’s just as much bullshit as saying it’s hypothetical.”
“Graham, I don’t even have money to give someone. I barely make a dollar over minimum wage at The Brew, and most of it goes toward paying off school loans. It was a friend of mine.”
He sat there for a minute without saying anything, the look on his face showing he was waiting for me to come clean. But I couldn’t do that. With an annoyed grunt, he leaned forward and kissed the top of my head. “I don’t believe you. Just don’t give them money again.”
“Graham . . .”
“Come on, I’ll help you move everything over to Jagger’s. Most of this can fit in my truck.”
My body stilled as my mind raced. It wasn’t exactly a town secret that Jagger’s mom couldn’t keep husbands or boyfriends, but she’d stopped being talked about in the town back when we first went to high school. I wondered if Graham was putting everything together and that’s why he wanted to help me . . . so he could talk to Jagger . . . but my mind and body eased when he turned and saw the look on my face.
“I’m not going to say anything to him about you moving in, I swear! I told you what I think, and you’re the only one I need to tell. It’s up to you if you tell him about the war you started in the kitchen.”
With a relieved smile, I accepted Graham’s hand to help me off the bed, and filled my arms with thi
ngs to take downstairs. “I appreciate it.”
Graham snorted as he walked out to the hall. “This would take you three trips in your car. We already got on you once about you moving out, I’m not going to force you to go through it another two times each time you come back here to get the rest of your shit.”
“Ah, well, if that’s the only reason you’re helping me . . .” I trailed off, and laughed at his confirming glance.
“Besides, I need to get out of here before Mom can—”
“Oh, Graham, there you are!” Mom called out from the entryway. “I thought you’d left. Okay, so if you don’t want to talk about Melissa Davis, what about—”
“Mom! No. No more trying to set me up.”
“But you need to settle down,” she argued as we walked outside.
I grinned at Graham. “Why do I feel like Mom’s never-ending list of girls is the real reason you’re helping me?”
Graham grumbled something incoherent and walked faster. “Shut up and let’s get this done before Mom calls one of the girls and invites her over.”
“That might be—”
“If you want my help, you won’t finish that sentence.”
I shut my lips tightly to silence my laugh, and nodded. “Whatever you say.”
Chapter 15