Drew stills, and I know he’s remembering the words he tossed at me. I’m remembering them too. He’s wanted me from the first. My whole body grows tender at the thought, then hurts at the way I had rejected him.
“You should know,” I say against his shoulder, “I wanted you from the first too. The second I saw you, I thought, yeah, that guy, he’s the one. I just didn’t let myself believe that I could have you. Because of my own shit. Not because of you.”
His hand is so big it encompasses the back of my head. “Anna.”
I go on. Because it’s important he knows. “I was coming to tell you that before you got hit. Because I had realized that you were the best thing that had ever happened to me or ever would. Because what I felt for you was stronger than my fear. You won, Drew. You’ll always win with me.”
He swallows hard, and then pulls back. His smile is golden. It’s a true Drew smile. And I’m so glad to see it return that I almost miss his next words.
“Good. Because I’m keeping you, Anna Jones.”
ASKING GRAY TO meet me outside the stadium was a mistake. I can feel the damn place looming over me, pressing upon my back in a silent taunt. Turn around. Look at me. And when I don’t, Coward.
A cold sweat breaks over me, and I press my ass back against the cab of Gray’s pickup, as if it can anchor me. An early frost has sugared the world with ice. I draw in a deep breath and welcome the burn in my lungs.
My attention drifts to a bubblegum pink Fiat headed my way. The lot is fairly empty, which makes me wonder if the person driving has spotted me in particular. If it’s a fan, I swear to God or to whoever’s listening that I’m leaving. I can’t deal with that now. Not even a little.
When the car parks next to mine, my fists curl within the pockets of my jacket. Shit.
A second later, Gray awkwardly unfolds his long bulk from the tiny car, and I. Lose. It.
I laugh so hard, I double over, my hand braced on the side of my cast.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Gray grouses as he slams the pink door.
Wiping my eyes, I try to stop, but can’t.
“Man…” Gray sighs, but I can see his lips twitching. “Asshole.”
I clear my throat, sputtering, but managing to choke down my snorts. “What the absolute fuck?”
Gray’s scowl grows. “I needed a car, didn’t I?”
That sobers me. God, I’ve been a jerk. I love this guy. He is my brother in all ways but blood. And I’ve treated him like shit.
“We can switch,” I offer with thick awkwardness. I don’t deserve to be driving Gray’s truck anyway.
He snorts. “Like you’d be able to squeeze into that fucking box with your cast. Besides, it’s a stick shift.”
“Uh… why are you driving that particular car?”
Gray leans against his truck. “Got it from an agent.”
“An agent?” I bobble as I whip around to fully face him. “What? Why?” Neither of us has interacted with them on the level of asking for things. We’ll make our choice free of any obligations.
He doesn’t look at me as he answers, but squints into the pale winter sunlight. “It’s like this. I needed a car, so I asked my top three agent picks for a loaner.” He shrugs. “Have to whittle down my choices anyway, so why not see how they’d react, you know?”
Stiffly I nod.
“So I get an offer for a Merc. A sweet ass AMG SLS coupe.”
I whistle. Now that is a car I’d love to drive.
Gray’s knowing look says the same. “Next guy says he’ll send over ‘his own, personal’ Ferrari California, and a girl to keep me company.”
“Two ladies for the price of one. That’s…ah…generous.” I still can’t believe some chicks go along with that shit.
“Yeah.” Gray crosses his legs at the ankles and then gives a dark laugh. “So the next guy, Mackenzie,” he adds for clarification, “tells me, ‘look, kid, I’ll go to the mattresses for you come draft day, keep the press off your ass, and bail your sorry butt out of jail if you’re ever stupid enough to get thrown into one, but I don’t like the taste of dick, so don’t expect me to suck yours.’”