Wrecked (Crystal Book Billionaires) (21 page)

Yes. Yes, indeed it had.

“Does your dad ever talk about her?” Luke asked.

I looked at him with interest. The question seemed like an odd one. Usually, when people found out my mother had passed, they asked how she died. Or they wanted to know if it had messed with me psychologically. It was the gruesome details they were curious about.

“Not much,” I answered. “But I don’t really ask.”

“Did he ever get remarried?”

“No.” I thought about that for a second. “He had a couple of girlfriends, but he was always married to work, I guess. Or at least that’s what our housekeeper LuLu said.”

Luke smirked.

“What about your parents?” I asked.

He pushed his eyebrows together. “My parents are extremely boring and normal, so far as I can tell. That is, of course, if you don’t count the fortune my father made in banking.” He ran a hand across his jaw, taking a second to rub the stubble there.

“You know what,” he said. “I take that back. My parents spoiled my brothers and me.”

I shrugged. “I think a lot of parents do that to their kids.”

“I got my own vacation home for my eighteenth birthday.”

“Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah. It was in Hawaii.”

I chortled. “All right then. And here I thought Rainy’s dad showered her with presents.”

Luke smiled and leaned on his arms. “Rainy is…”

“The best friend.”

“Ah. Right.”

“Um, ex-best friend.” I sighed. The day had been so jam packed I’d barely had time to think about her.

“Why don’t you call her?” Luke asked.

“No!” The word came out sharper than I’d intended.

“Grace,” he said gently, his face growing soft, his eyes warm. “Why not?”

I sniffed. “Because she’s a bitch.”

I must have said it a little too loudly because the lady sitting behind Luke glanced over her shoulder at our table.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Luke said, his thumb tracing over my hand.

I shook my head. “This wasn’t a mistake. This was very intentional, trust me.”

Luke played with the napkin in front of him. “And what about this guy?”

“That’s over,” I quickly answered. “Even before I found out about him and Rainy.”

He peeked up at me. A tuft of hair stuck up from the back of his head and I wondered if it was from our earlier romp in the sheets.

“I was already moving on,” I further explained.

“All right.” I could tell he wanted to say more, but didn’t.

“You don’t have to be jealous.”

He smiled and reached under the table to grab my knee. “It’s cute that you think I’m jealous.”

“You’re not?”

“I’m extremely jealous, actually,” he answered, his voice becoming serious. “In fact, it’s a fault of mine. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I pushed my legs together, trapping his hand in between them. “It’s kind of hot.”

His eyed twinkled devilishly at me as his hand traveled just a little farther up my leg…

Desire flared up inside of me. Right before he got to the spot between my hips, he pulled back and straightened up, clearing his throat.

He was
definitely
at least as turned on as me.

“Something wrong?” I coyly asked him. “Do you need a drink of water?”

“Yes, I, uh, think so.” He reached for his glass and took a huge gulp. I giggled, absolutely loving the effect I had on him.

“That’s better,” Luke said, putting the glass down. “Back to Rainy.”

“I just told you nothing’s happening between Eli and me. That’s done.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Grace. I was just going to offer some advice. If you want it.”

“Okay,” I said, eyeing him. “I’m listening.”

“I’m not suggesting you be friends with her again. After all, it’s hard for people to change. Once a scorpion stings they usually keep doing it.”

His words hung in the air. I didn’t so much as breathe. Was there a part of Luke still left thinking that
I
was a scorpion?

“But at least release your anger,” he said. “If you hold onto the mad, it will only hurt you.”

I thought about that. “All right,” I finally said, more in an effort to change the conversation than anything else.

The waitress came over then, a tray with our pizza balanced in her hands. I leaned back and watched as she set it on the table. After she left, Luke leaned across the steaming pie and looked at me.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Maybe after I have a slice of this I can touch your knee some more.”

I winked. “This feels an awful lot like a date in eighth grade.”

He cocked his head. “Oh really? Because what I had hoped to do next is
very
adult like. You know, if you don’t mind…”

“Hm,” I mused. “We’ll just have to see what happens.”

But I couldn’t help smiling.

Grace

“G
ood boy, Mr. Jingles,” I told the little white snowball of a dog. “Good boy!”

In all my twenty-two years, I’d never talked to an animal in such a way. But in all my twenty-two years, I’d never had a night quite like the one before.

After Luke and I finished dinner, we stayed at the Italian restaurant until the place closed, sharing stories about growing up on opposite coasts. I’d only, very reluctantly, gone home so that my aunt and uncle wouldn’t worry. Telling them that I was spending the night out seemed almost cringe worthy. I was a little too old for sleepovers with friends, so
I’m not coming home tonight
could only mean one thing.

Yeah. Ew. I did
not
need my aunt and uncle even knowing my sex life existed.

The morning at Community First had been one of the best of my life. Waking up knowing I was going to see Luke took all the pain out of rolling out of bed. Even though I took as much time on my hair and makeup as I usually did, I dressed casual, just as a little nod to Luke’s slight influence on me. Which meant the yellow Converses were most definitely on my feet.

All morning, while I helped sort and distribute, I’d been painfully aware of his presence, whether he was in the room or not. Out front with Brie, I strained to hear the sounds of Luke and Ricardo talking and laughing in the back. When Luke came in to give us a box or get some paperwork, his eyes always lingered on me for a second longer, making a sweet chill rush over me.

After his second appearance, Brie asked me if I was flirting with him.

“No,” I honestly responded. “I’m not doing anything.”

Other than having sex with him of course.

We had plans that night to go to a small concert in Raleigh, and I practically skipped down the sidewalk just thinking about it.

“You’re a good boy, Mr. Jingles,” I told the pup one more time, just because it felt good to. He wagged his tail and turned to look at me while he trotted on.

In my back pocket, my phone buzzed. Eager, I pulled it out, hoping it was Luke. Maybe he had more details for our date that night, or maybe it was even a dirty text. He’d sent me a message while we were at Community First saying he’d like me to come back to the storage room so he could bend me over and have his way with me. It had been a joke, of course. Ricardo had still been there — unfortunately. The text served to get me all worked up though, and I’d spent the whole bike ride home trying not to get distracted by fantasies involving all the sex positions Luke and I had yet to explore together.

Instead of the text being from Luke, it was from Rainy.

My hands tightened around the phone case. Rainy and I hadn’t spoken since the phone call that left such a sour taste in my mouth. At first, I’d been close to devastated over what she’d done. Yesterday, though, I’d barely even thought about it. There was already so much more going on in my life. Rainy could have Eli. I had Luke Anderson. And as far as friends, Aunt Ginger was right. I could make new ones.

My optimistic attitude was pretty amazing, actually, when you considered just how quick it had turned from dour to cheery.

I couldn’t take credit for the change, though. It was all due to Luke’s magic touch and presence.

Mr. Jingles stopped to sniff a bush and pee on it, and I opened up the text.

Are you still mad?

I scoffed. Was I still mad?

I thought about that for a second. The automatic answer would have been yes. But truthfully?

No. Not really.

And did I forgive Rainy?

As amazing as it seemed, I think I did. All of the anger I’d felt the other day had already dissipated. There was no reason to hold onto my bad feelings any longer. Not when all they did was hurt me. Not when there was so much more in life to look forward to.

But was I ready to start chatting again, to pick up our friendship right in the place where it had left off?

That one I didn’t know about.

Mr. Jingles had apparently found a bush that was popular with the neighborhood dogs, which meant having to go around and smell each and every leaf, so I took another moment to think about my response before texting back.

I haven’t thought much about it. I’ve been pretty busy.

My phone buzzed with a response almost immediately.

You don’t have to be so dismissive, and you don’t have to turn your back on me. I’m still your friend.

I sucked in a deep breath through my nose. The convo had just started and it already felt ridiculous.

I’m not being dismissive,
I texted her.
And don’t get mad at me. You’re the one who started seeing Eli behind my back.

The last part might have been unnecessary, but I sent it anyway. Rainy’s texts were starting to piss me off. I’d been enjoying an amazing day when, out of the blue, she had to text me just to… what? To see if I thought ill of her? To try and stop me from being catty and spreading dirt?

It didn’t matter. I slipped the phone back in my pocket, resolving to think through the next text before sending it. A fight with Rainy would prove extremely satisfying, yes. But it would also wreck me emotionally and derail the rest of my day.

I didn’t want anything ruining my evening with Luke.

Mr. Jingles finished at his bush, and we carried on, with him leading the way to Mrs. Roessler’s brick cottage. After letting myself in through the back door with the key Mrs. Roessler had hidden in a flower pot for me, I gave Mr. Jingles some fresh water and a treat. He wiggled his tail gratefully and proceeded to settle down on the cool hardwood floor with his head between his paws. Surprisingly, the sight gave me some satisfaction. It was trivial, I knew, but it felt nice to have spent a half hour turning a bouncing ball of fluff into an exhausted and happy pup.

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Jingles,” I softly told him, closing the door securely behind me.

My bike leaned against the back of the house, and I climbed on it and started off, taking a deep breath as I cruised down the slanted driveway. Gaining some speed, I veered left into the road, heading for home and maybe a nap. A car honked behind me, and I moved over slightly, but then the car honked again.

Annoyed, I glanced over my shoulder. It was Tracey’s white truck, slowing down enough so that it almost matched my speed. I steered the bike into the grass to stop and waited while Tracey pulled up next to me and leaned across the cab. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, and she looked slightly more rested than the previous times I’d seen her.

“Hey,” she called.

“Hi,” I answered, straddling the bike. “How’s it going?”

She shrugged. “Okay. Better than the last time you saw me.” She smiled then, a real, genuine smile.

“Wow. Good.”

She looked me up and down. “What are you doing?”

“Just going home… so nothing really.”

“Ah.”

She didn’t say anything else, yet didn’t make a move to leave. At that moment, I saw just how self-conscious Tracey could really be. Maybe it was mostly because of everything I already knew about her. It had to be difficult looking in the eyes of someone you’d only recently met and knowing that they were witness to your deepest struggles.

Or maybe she was just shy.

Or maybe she was desperately in need of a friend and didn’t know how to ask for one.

If the last option was the case, I understood it all too well.

“Do you wanna hang out?” I asked. It felt like such a weird thing to ask a woman with three children. I had to remind myself that Tracey really wasn’t that much older than me. Back in L.A., I had friends I hung out with regularly who were way past both mine and her age.

But Tracey really was older in some ways. She’d been through things those friends in L.A. had been spared from probably even having bad dreams about.

“Yeah,” she said, the brightness in her face kicking up a notch. After a second, the smile dampened slightly. “I mean, if you don’t mind being around three kids. They’re home with a babysitter right now, so I need to get back.”

I laughed. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

Talk about famous last words. Tracey’s house was
crazy.

I couldn’t fathom how she kept herself together. The place was clean and tastefully decorated, with nice furniture, lots of books, and a spinet piano, but it was loud.

The six-year-old, Mackenzie, had the radio on in her room and kept turning the volume up all the way, despite her mother telling her three times to cut it out. Owen, the four-year-old, was even more energetic than Mr. Jingles before a walk. He bounded from one corner of the living room to the next, first showing me his Star Wars Legos, then his book about spiders.

“Hey,” he nearly shouted at me. “Do you like dogs?”

“I love dogs,” I told him. “I just walked one ten minutes ago.”

“Be right back,” he quickly said, turning and flying down the narrow hallway. He came back with not only two stuffed dogs, but two full back stories on the animals’ lives as well, complete with where they’d been born and why their mothers had needed to leave them at the pound.

Down the hallway, a pop country song grew louder, shaking the walls.

“Mackenzie!” Tracey snapped from next to me. In her arms, Henry wailed about something. Tracey sighed. “I’ll be right back,” she told me before stomping down the hall.