“He almost had sex with you,” he cuts me off and leans towards me. “Which means he obviously wants you back. You said it yourself, though. You saved him from hating himself. Once he figures it out, you all are going to have to figure it out.”
I snort and roll my eyes. “And what about the other one? He practically hates my guts.”
“Well,” he starts slowly as if truly considering his words. “Did you do anything to piss him off before?”
I shift and shrug, averting my gaze for a moment before looking at him again. “He tried to get me sober before, and it worked for a little while. But then I relapsed, stole money from him, and took off. Kind of left a crappy love, apology note.”
“There you go then. He doesn’t hate you. He’s angry, hurt, but he doesn’t hate you.”
I glower. “How do you even know? You don’t know him—”
“No, but I am a guy, Gracie.”
Shit, he knows my name. He actually paid attention. Now I look like an idiot not knowing his name.
“Look,” he reaches for a napkin I haven’t crumpled up and pulls a pen from his pocket, writing it on the napkin. “Why don’t you come over for dinner on Thursday evening? We would be happy to answer any questions for you.”
I can only stare at him when he holds out the napkin with an address and Thursday at seven in the evening written on it.
“Wait, isn’t a harem like multiple girls or something like that?” I question, trying to find a flaw in what he’s telling me.
What if this is just a ploy? A way to get me to try and finally feel like I have something figured out, so I show up at his house, expecting to be able to ask questions, and instead, I end up locked in a basement, drugged, and eventually killed. He can play it off as I relapsed and disappeared into the void. Everybody would believe that without hesitation.
“It’s the twenty-first century, Gracie. A harem can be multiple guys and one woman too. Just come on Thursday, all right? Bring a friend with you or this new guy, whoever you’re comfortable with bringing. I know you want answers. If you figure out this isn’t something you want, you can just walk away. If it is, we can help you, I promise.”
I hesitate and look down at the napkin scrawled with his handwriting. Finally, I take it and notice his name is written on it as well.
“My dad’s middle name is Luke,” I tell him.
“Good, then you’ll remember my name easily. My number’s on there too. Let me know if you’re coming and if there are any guests, so we have enough. Thursday is Mexican-style food.” He squeezes my shoulder and leaves my side.
I watch until he’s out of sight and grab a handful of cookies again, shoving them into my mouth. Except, I don’t feel as empty this time.
Chapter28
Colton
Istraighten my shirt for what feels like the millionth time in a row and look down at the dinner meal of spaghetti and garlic bread. It’s simple and easy to make. I didn’t want to overdo it and make something fancy for something that I’m not even sure about. I don’t know what mine and Gracie’s relationship is. She came here for the night to get away from stress. I feel grateful she chose me to run to, but I know better than to think it means anything deep for the two of us.
I’m still going to treat her to dinner, though. Because if there’s even a chance of us having something, it starts with gestures like these. Right? I believe so. It is what my last relationship was like. Then again, I was the only one making one-hundred and fifteen percent of the effort. All the while, my so-called boyfriend was out seeing another man for a side dish. No, wait, I was the side dish.
I don’t think I would be with Gracie. Even if she doesn’t officially know what she wants yet, I at least know that I wouldn’t be a side dish. Because even though she obviously has her issues, I know for a fact she won’t lie to me. I really hope she won’t fucking lie to me, anyway, and I’m going to cling to that hope with my life. Because I’m a sucker when it comes to those I like and might eventually fall in love with love later on. I just want to believe the good in them. I know I have that problem, but I don’t think it needs to be worked on. Because I want to have faith in people, to find the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.
The door opens, and I look up to see grandpa enter. He grins and flashes me a wink upon noticing the attire I’ve put together. I don’t have my usual biker jacket and wrinkled-up stained shirt on that I like wearing outside work.
“I take it this nice little dinner isn’t for the two of us.”
I grin, but gesture at the third plate I did put on the table. “You’re invited. It isn’t a date, grandpa.”
He clicks his tongue and cocks a bushy, white eyebrow. “Not a date? That doesn’t sound like a good sign.”
I shrug and check the timer for the garlic bread in the oven. “I don’t want to push it. I want Gracie to let me be her boyfriend or whatever she wants, on her terms.”
“Hmm,” he hums, crossing the floor and bending over the table to look at the candles I sat in the middle of it. “Candles seem a bit of a date preparation. I may be old, Colton, but I know what a date looks like.”
I shift my feet. I did sit a plate down for him in order to join us, but it was mostly out of courtesy so he wouldn’t feel left out, and that way, he could join us if he wanted. I kind of hope he doesn’t, but I’m not going to deny him.
“You’re in luck,” he continues and picks up one of the plates, sitting it on the island between the kitchen and living room. “I have a date myself tonight.”