Page 36 of The Beauty in Grace

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After a moment, I make my way into the backyard and spot my girlfriend. She’s standing near the side with Donna in deep conversation. That can’t be good. Whenever Donna gets hold of Kate, she changes. She gets more irritable than when she’s on her fucking period. Kate can be pretty impressionable at times, but definitely when with Donna. I eye them as they glance at Gracie, who’s in a corner with Trish. Donna bounces and claps her hands together, excited about something. I’m afraid to find out what it is.

Rubbing my forehead, I turn and approach the cooler that’s sitting just feet away from the grill. Popping it open, I reach in and pluck out a cold beer, snatching up the bottle opener that’s sitting on the stepstool next to it. I pop open the bottle and flick the lid towards the trash can. It hits the rim, bounces off, and flops to the ground to join a small pile of them. I dip my head back and down the beer, the cold drink stinging my throat as it runs down it. The bubbles sting my nostrils, but I ignore it. Withdrawing it, I tilt the bottle and see that I’ve drank nearly half of it.

My eyes flicker up and catch sight of Gracie looking at me. She’s left Trish at this point and is now standing alone, gripping a plate of food. Except, it isn’t me she’s looking at. It’s the bottle clutched between my fingers. She looks a little hungry, or maybe it’s not even hungry. Its lust, desire for what I’m holding. I draw the bottle behind my back, trying to get it out of her sight. Her eyes dart up to mine. I can feel the the alcohol swimming in me, but there’s nothing yet, no buzz or anything else. Just the warmth running down my throat.

I glance back at Kate, but she’s still immersed with Donna. Neither one is paying attention to anyone else, and I know they won’t even bother. Kate is good with my father, but I’ve noticed that’s as far as she’ll go. She doesn’t try to get to know mom or dad here, my second family. Sometimes, like now, I suspect it’s because they’re Gracie’s family, and I know she doesn’t like Gracie. She tolerates her living at the apartment with Owen and me and seems to have warmed up a little now that she’s… seeing another man. But otherwise, Kate just doesn’t like Gracie. Donna hates her, for whatever reason she’s got. I think it has to do with Owen; I don’t know.

I glance back to where Gracie had been standing but find the spot empty. I search the crowd and locate her sitting alone, still facing me. She eats her salad, eyes no longer upon me. While she isn’t looking, I take another swig of my beer, guzzling as much as possible before she can see. Drawing it down, I catch her eyes and then beckon at her. Gracie looks away, but the direction she does tells me that she’s also noticed Kate and Donna chatting. After making sure that the two of them aren’t paying attention, Gracie stands and makes her way to me, abandoning her salad plate. I ignore my girlfriend and turn, going back into the house.

Making sure no one, especially kids, are on the stairs at the back of the living room, I ascend them. The hallway on the landing has two bedrooms and one bathroom on the left, with three bedrooms on the right. Gracie’s old bedroom is the first on the left, and it’s the one I enter. It hasn’t changed. Still clad in black everything, the room is eternal night. The creak of floorboards outside the door turns me to face Gracie as she steps over the threshold and shuts the door behind her, flicking the light on so we aren’t in complete darkness.

I step to her and cup her face, pressing my lips to hers. So many times as teenagers, we’d sneak away from a family event to do this exact thing. To kiss, to cuddle, to just be the two of us. Her arms lace around my neck, and I press into her, our tongues dancing together. Her fingers dig into my hair and tug lightly, inciting a groan to escape my lips. My right hand goes from cupping her cheek to tracing down her front, stopping at the waistband. Gracie gasps and pulls her head back, breaking our kiss. Unwrapping herself from me, she presses against my chest. I obey and step back.

“We can’t do this,” she chokes out, shaking her head.

“Gracie—" I start but stop when she glares at me.

“No,” she says sharply. “I won’t. Not while you’re with Kate. I did a lot of shit when I was high or drunk and everything in between, Devon. I slept with a lot of guys, including married ones, and fucked their marriages up. I didn’t care then. I care now. Kate might not like me, but I am trying to like myself, and that means I won’t go behind anyone’s back to be with somebody.”

I grimace when she mentions sleeping with other guys. I swear I can feel my blood boil whenever the thought of her being with other guys pops up in my head. I even get a bit jealous when thinking of her and Owen being together, but I can accept at least with him. Anyone else pisses me off.

“I want to like myself, Devon. I can’t do that if I’m helping you cheat.”

I’m the goddamn therapist, yet she’s the one talking sense here. What am I even thinking? I don’t think it’s the booze. I want this. I’ve wanted it since she left me. I’ve always wanted her back; every broken piece of her. I’m so proud of her for working so hard to get back on track, to be sober. It’s made me fall in love with her even more than I can remember ever being.

“Are you going to break up with her?” Her question draws me back to her.

“I—” I falter, trying to piece the words together. Okay, so the booze isn’t making my decisions for me, but it is making it hard to think entirely straight. “I don’t know right now.”

Pain flashes in her eyes, and she shakes her head. “I can’t like myself if I’m helping you cheat. I can’t stay honest if I’m helping you cheat. I just won’t do it, Devon.”

She turns to leave the room, but I reach out and grab her wrist. She stops and looks down at my hand before looking over her shoulder at me.

“Just kiss me one more time,” I practically plead, needing to feel her lips on mine.

She’s still for a long moment. A little too long, but part of me thinks the time frame is partly because of the booze swirling in my brain. Once I get something to eat and maybe juice or water, anything but alcohol, I’ll feel better. Usually, one bottle is enough for me for a day. I’m not a huge drinker, and I’ve already had a few too many.

Finally, Gracie turns and steps back up to me, lifting on her tiptoes. I catch her lips with mine, and the rest of the world is forgotten. She tastes like honey, or maybe I’m just imagining that. Either way, it’s been so long since we’ve kissed that I’d almost forgotten how sweet her kisses are. I let go of her wrist and cup her face again. The kiss deepens, our tongues slipping into one another’s mouths. Instead of dancing together, though, they fight. She gives in and pushes me back towards the bed, and I fall onto the mattress when the back of my legs hits it. Gracie straddles my lap, her fingers digging into my hair again, and I grip her waist, pulling my lips from her to trail little butterfly kisses down her neck. I push aside the shoulder of her shirt and run my lips down her flesh, taking in the sweet scent that wafts from her, falling into the past of when it had just been the two of us.

Until it's broken again. Gracie wrenches away and launches from my lap, staggering back from me. Her cheeks are blistered red as she fumbles to fix her shirt. She holds her head high but her bottom lip wobbles.

“I can smell the beer on your breath,” she tells me. “You aren’t thinking clearly, Devon. I definitely won’t be part of your little game while you’re drunk.”

“I’m buzzed, not drunk, Gracie.”

She throws her hands up. “Either way, you’ve been drinking and aren’t thinking completely straight. You have a girlfriend, a nice girl who will do you a lot of good. You need to go and be with her.”

I don’t move. “Do you want me back?”

It’s the first time I’ve ever asked her or even mentioned that we’d once been together – several times. It halts her, and she stammers before pulling herself together.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is you’re happy and—”

“No, I’m not,” I cut her off. “Kate’s a nice girl, and I love that about her, but I don’t love her the way I’ve always loved you. I’m not meant to spend my life with Kate, Gracie. I’m meant to spend my life with you.”

She blinks, staring at me for a wild moment, looking at me as if I’ve suddenly grown a second head. “I hurt you—”

“I forgive you.” I shrug.


Tags: Reese Jett Erotic