Grayson touched the cover in the space between Brian Hall and Jake Hall, then swept his fingertip down the page. “Dad tried so hard to get us to read it. When Jake finally did and told Alec and me how good it was, we fought over it. I guess buying your own copy of a book doesn’t occur to you when you’re twelve.” He bit his lip.
And then, without moving his head, he brought his eyes up to meet mine. His look was hard to read. I’d known him for years, yet I’d had so little face time with him that his expressions were practically a stranger’s. The basic look of chagrin I recognized. The subtleties were lost on me. I couldn’t tell whether he was embarrassed that he’d accidentally accused me of freeloading, or he was accusing me on purpose.
And asking for his book back.
“You should have it,” I said quickly.
Now his lips parted in surprise. “No! Of course not. You should have it. You were the last one to…”
He took a breath, and so did I. Neither of us wanted to delve into Mr. Hall’s death right now. That much I understood about Grayson. We’d shared something that had to do with him and me, not Mr. Hall, not Alec, not Jake, just the two of us. We wanted to enjoy the afterglow and we were trying our best to bond, but it was difficult with so many people between us, even though most of them were ghosts.
He exhaled, and I did too.
“We’re very tense,” he said.
“Yeah.”
He chuckled and touched my lips. “We weren’t tense a few minutes ago.”
I smiled. His finger followed the curve of my mouth. I watched him watching me. We’d shared tender moments like this in the past few days, but I had difficulty shaking the image of the distant Grayson I was used to. His fingertip on my cheek was warm and welcome but strange, because I knew his mood wouldn’t last.
But if I hadn’t understood his background, I would have thought he was a carefree eighteen-year-old with tender feelings for his girlfriend, experienced enough with sex to know what he was doing, inexperienced enough to act thrilled. His hand moved into my hair. Stroking my curls, he smiled as he said, “It’s cool that I’ve scored a pilot.”
I laughed, relieved at the joke. “I think so too.”
He wound a curl around his finger, then unwound it, watching my hair rather than looking into my eyes. And sure enough, his chuckle faded into a frown. His blond brows knitted. He seemed to be concentrating on the puzzle of my hair. I knew he was sliding away from me already. Now the unexpected sweetness that made him Grayson was fading, and he seemed like any other guy out there. Like Mark.
“If we hadn’t done it tonight, would you want another girl on the side?” I asked.
I had his attention again. He untangled his finger from my hair and looked me in the eyes. “Like, if you and I were dating but weren’t having sex, would I want a second girlfriend to have sex with?”
“Yes,” I said, relieved that he got it.
“No,” he said angrily. “Would you do that to me?”
“Of course not,” I said self-righteously. I’d never really thought about it before, but I was way more loyal than was good for me.
“Then why did you think it was okay for Mark to do that to you?”
I gaped at him for a moment, speechless with astonishment. When I found my voice, I asked, “How’d you know I was talking about Mark?”
“I understand Mark pretty well,” he grumbled. “I was headed down that path, only thinking about myself, when I wrecked the Piper. Something like that makes you rethink what you value and what you want. I wish it had happened to me a few years sooner, when I had more than a few weeks left with my brother and my dad.”
He tapped my lips with his fingertip. “I know Mark. I know what he would do just to get a rise out of you. I want you to promise me that if you and I ever break up, you won’t go back to him.”
I sucked in a long breath around his finger, trying not to show how surprised and overwhelmed I was at the idea that Grayson and I were a couple now. If we decided not to be anymore, we would have to go through the formality of breaking up.
Like any normal girlfriend and boyfriend.
My arms and face tingled with the rush.
Then I had to say on a sigh, “I can’t make you that promise, Grayson. It’s not that I’m planning to run back to Mark. But I determine what’s best for me. I’m not making promises to other people about that. I’ve done that only once.”
His eyes searched mine. “Even if it’s for your own good?”
“Your dad earned the right to tell me that.”
Grayson nodded, understanding. “You’re right. I haven’t. I just… worry about you.” His fingertip moved down my cheek to trace the line of my jaw. He seemed so serious, heavy with responsibility, utterly unlike the crazy boy I’d crushed on years ago. I knew the old Grayson was in there—I’d seen him when he kissed me, when we made love—and I hoped he didn’t count me as one more weighty responsibility that killed his spirit.
“Are you sorry that we were together?” I whispered.
His whole face changed like an idea was slowly dawning on him. He cradled my cheek in his palm. “Leah, of course not.”
“You seem sorry,” I said, feeling small again. I’d thought I didn’t need his comfort. I’d thought I could comfort him. But out of nowhere, here was that waiflike girl he’d said would want to be held, a girl who’d taken what we’d done too seriously and needed him to pretend it had meant something.
“Hey. I told you. Lately my brain isn’t working right. I feel one thing, but I act a different way and it surprises me. I don’t know where my words are coming from half the time. But you…” He kissed my cheek. “Gosh…” He kissed my lips, then backed away to look at me again. “You know what? Let me show you how I feel.”
I gasped as he trailed kisses down my cheek, down my neck, across my breast and farther down, and then he showed me.
He crawled across the bed until he hung off the side. Dragging his shorts from the floor, he found his phone in the pocket. “I’m starving. Pizza?”
“Great. My treat.”
He looked around at me and opened his mouth. And I took a breath to explain my situation. My refrigerator was empty and I always ate like it was my last meal because I had no phone and no car to get food, not because I had no money.
He closed his mouth and swallowed his protest, already flipping through search screens on his phone.