“You’re being an asshat.”
“Hello to you, too,” Gray greeted his sister as she stepped into his kitchen. He was half-dressed after staying up way too late and drinking too much.
Max, on the other hand, looked like she’d stepped out of a Ralph Lauren commercial. She wore a cream linen dress, belted at the waist, and carried a broad sunhat in her hand.
“You look like you’re going to the beach.”
“Actually, I’ve just come from the park.”
“Bird watching?”
“Having coffee with Abby.”
Gray faltered. It was so unexpected, he couldn’t quickly grasp any of his usual masks. He stared at her, dumbfounded. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“So you guys are friends now?”
“Our daughters are cousins. Is there a problem with us being friendly?”
His jaw dropped. Given their temperaments, he should have seen this coming, but he hadn’t.
“Besides. I like her. She’s nice.”
“I know she’s nice.”
“Do you?” His twin sister peered at him for several seconds before strolling into the kitchen, placing her hat down on the bench. “Then why are you letting her go?”
“We want different things.”
Max stared at him long and hard, then shook her head. “You’re being an asshat, like I said.”
“You can’t hold onto someone who doesn’t want to be held. She made that abundantly clear to me.”
“God, Gray. I don’t know how to help you.”
“I don’t need help.”
Max sighed softly, then padded around to him, catching his face in her hands. “You’ve been acting like that for years, and I used to believe you, but watching you screw everything up just convinces me of the opposite. You need help, and I don’t know how to get it for you.”
He hadanother nightmare that night. This time, when he reached for Abby, it wasn’t enough to miss her. It wasn’t enough to feel empty air in his hands.
He swore as he pushed out of bed, dragged a shirt and jeans on, then caught the lift down to the foyer. He hailed a cab from the front of his building and closed his eyes as it sped off, trying to blot out the world. If he let it in, if he let reality intrude, he’d change his mind. And he knew enough to know that the needed to see her. Just to see her. Then everything would make sense.
Chapter 17
“YOU’RE GOING TO WAKE Charlotte,” Abby snapped, as she stared out of the crack in the barely open door somewhere around four that morning.
He looked beyond her. “Can I come in?”
She crossed her arms defensively. “What for?”
“It will only take a minute.”
He could see the warring expression on her face and knew she wanted to fight him, but finally, she relented, pulling back the door, standing well enough away so there was no risk of them touching.
“You need to understand something.” He strode into her kitchen as though he belonged there. She pressed her back against the wall, staring at him, her heart racing, her body ridiculously, shamefully glad to see him.