He’s too quiet for too long, and then I barely hear him when he speaks, “I will miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you too.”
I wish I didn’t have to go, but I don’t think I can give everything up and let my grandfather down. I owe it to him to make the changes he’d make in his company. Give back to the community and make the world a better place, like he always talked about. My dad cut nearly every charitable donation. He only invests in shitty companies that make the world more toxic and polluted than it already is. I’m driven to do better with the family name. I have to.
But it comes at a tremendously high price.
FORTY-ONE
“Let me know when you get there,” I say dumbly, hating every second of this and hoping like hell I can get through it.
We just got back to Blair and Rhys’s for a goodbye brunch, and now, Grayson’s Uber waits for him in the driveway to take him to the airport.
“Yeah. I will.” We stare at each other for far too long before I grab his hip and pull him to me. His hand grips the back of my hair as our lips crash together for one hell of a goodbye kiss. One that may kill me.
The heated kiss slows to desperate brushes of our lips as we release each other, neither of us wanting to let go.
“I’ll talk to you soon.” He starts for the Uber, his bags already in the trunk. But he stops and looks at me over his shoulder before fully turning back to face me. “Come with me.”
Shit.
He takes another step toward me. “I know it’s crazy, and you finally started tolerating me not long ago . . .” He reaches me and cups the side of my face in his big hand. “But we could make it work.”
My eyes close involuntarily as I breathe in his cologne and shampoo, letting him touch me, knowing I want so badly to say yes. “I . . .”
“We could find an apartment together. One with a tattoo place close by.”
I hear the desperation in his voice, and it nearly guts me. “Grayson.”
He must hear the no in my voice because he drops his hand, and I hear him sniff just as I open my eyes and see his are full of tears he hasn’t let fall. “I know.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, feeling tears well in my eyes too. A sob nearly escapes my throat because it sounds amazing to live with him. But I wouldn’t really be his. We couldn’t be seen together, and I’d just be his roommate. And I can’t do that.
He sniffs again and then plasters an unconvincing smile on his face. “I know. I was kidding, okay? It was a joke. I know we can’t do that.”
I cup the back of his neck with my hand and pull his face to mine, resting our foreheads against each other's. “I would.” If . . .
“I know,” he breathes. “Maybe someday.”
He pulls away and looks into my eyes with pleading. I nod. Because I can give him that. “Yeah. Maybe.”
He grins a little wider now and then presses his lips against mine for a brief kiss before he climbs into the Uber. I stand in the drive, watching and unable to move.
A few moments later, Bree and Fletch join me in the driveway, both of them laying their heads on my shoulders. “Don’t let him go, Rhett.” Bree’s voice is soft and sweet.
“He’s already gone.”
I feel the shake of her head against my shoulder. “You can go with him.”
I smile. “Eavesdropping?”
She shrugs. “He wanted you to go.”
“I can’t.”
She shoves away from me, her eyes full of pity and sadness. “Why? You love him. He clearly loves you. Why not be together?”
Fletch lifts his head off my shoulder and then grips it with one hand in a comforting squeeze. “I gotta agree.”
I shake my head, also agreeing but still having to say no. “He’s not out, and he can’t be out. I’d be his secret. I can’t do that.”
Bree scoffs, which is weird because I thought she’d understand. “I loved you for so long in secret.” My eyes widen in surprise, and Fletch only looks amused before she continues, “I loved you, and you didn’t love me back. And that’s fine, but damn it, Rhett. To have the person you love, love you back? That’s such an amazing gift.”
“He couldn’t love me out loud, Bree. Do you honestly think if I’d loved you back but told you no one else could know about it, you’d have been fine?”
She seems to think that over for a while, and I think I have her. But then her head moves slowly from side to side, and she places one hand on her hip. “I think it would have been worth it to have a mutual, beautiful love. Yes.”
Fletch looks uncomfortable, but he doesn’t say anything, probably not wanting to choose a side.
“I can’t do it, Bree. He has plans I won’t ruin, but I also can’t be his kept boy, hiding from the world. I’d rather be alone than someone’s secret.”
Her eyes are full of tears as she hugs me tightly. “You’re an idiot.”
I laugh. “So I’ve heard.”
I feel her smile against my chest, and then Fletcher wraps his big-ass arms around both of us for a great big, sibling bear hug.
I have a nagging feeling in the back of my mind telling me I should go after him. That maybe Bree’s right, and we could work it out. But in the end, I know what I did was right.
I had to let him go.
FORTY-TWO
It’s been a month since Grayson left, and I’m becoming used to my role at Hostile Ink. All the employees are awesome, including Kole. Today, a new chick started, who’s pretty experienced with tattoos—watercolor tattoos being her specialty—and everyone around here has been buzzing about her.
The shop is slow when she asks for my opinion on one of her sketches, and I sit next to her in the breakroom. “I like it,” I say, and she smiles.
She’s pretty, with dark-red, dyed hair, a cute stud piercing in her nose, and tattoos up and down her arms. “Thanks. I think it’s growing on me.” Her eyes are green with a little gold striations that sparkle when she smiles. “I’m Josie, by the way.”
“Yeah, I know.” Kole introduced her around the shop earlier today. “I’m Rhett.”
She smiles and then goes back to sketching. “I know. The cute, broody one in the back.” She grins which pops her dimples I’m just noticing.
“I’m not broody.”
She laughs at that and then shrugs, her eyes meeting mine again. “Well, I am most of the time. So I get it.”
“Why are you broody?” I say, making casual conversation.
“My girlfriend broke up with me a couple of weeks ago. It’s getting better. But believe me, a few days ago, I was still a raging bitch.”
I thought she was flirting with me for a second there, and I have to admit, I feel a little relief when she says she had a girlfriend. Not that she’s not pretty, and I’m sure she’s really cool—but my mind is still completely on a certain goofy, gorgeous jock. “I’m sorry about your girlfriend. What happened?” Realizing I probably shouldn’t have asked that, I quickly add, “If you feel like talking about it.”
She laughs at that and waves off my awkwardness. “I’m pretty much an open book, which she hated. She’s a private person—which is totally fine, but so not me.”