Bound (Bound Duet Book 1) Page 5
“I dabble,” I responded, as though it was no big deal. If this were his reply to smelling marijuana, he’d be out the door faster than I could snort a line if he’d known I had an eight ball in the bathroom. I had practically lived off the two since everything erupted with Will. One kept me up while I was in school and working, and the other brought me back down so I could sleep.
“Seriously? Why? I never would’ve thought you were that type of girl.”
“You keep saying that. You seem to have a lot of preconceived notions about me.” I didn’t try to hide the hurt in my voice.
He had believed things about me that weren’t true, and as much as I wanted him to know and accept me for who I was, he didn’t seem to be able to get past who he’d made me out to be in his mind. It was the reverse of the attitude my parents had, and I hated it.
I’d gone on the defensive. “You think I’m some snobby little rich girl who’s had everything handed to me, even though I’ve never given you a reason to assume that. You didn’t believe I liked country music, which is strange in and of itself. And now, you’re surprised a twenty-year-old in college would smoke pot. I’m not an addict. I simply prefer it to drinking, which no one would find odd at all, even though it’s just as illegal for me as drugs are.”
I had gone from hurt to irritated and overly sensitive. I’d only known this guy for a handful of days, but he was judging me solely based on what he perceived to be true, not anything he’d actually learned about me in that short amount of time. I hated for people to pass judgment with no basis or fact. I preferred to be surprised as strangers allowed me to see who they really were, loving the unexpected little things that came with that discovery. I wondered if his attraction to me was because he seemed to think I was out of his league, making this more of a hunt with me as his prey.
He didn’t let me go but looked down at me. Concern filled his eyes, not judgment. “Please promise me you’ll be careful. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. I can’t tell you I like it because I don’t. I don’t do drugs. I don’t want to be around them, but I like you, and I want to get to know you…and whatever it is you’re hiding with them.” Gray pressed his forehead to mine, and I felt the connection with him once again, one I couldn’t explain and didn’t understand. As quickly as it started, he dismissed it. “Are you ready?”
My head was too fuzzy to formulate a response, so I nodded. He’d said it in passing, but I’d caught it just the same—he knew I was hiding—and I wondered how long it would be before he found me.
The Pee Wee Football game was cute. It was dark outside and unusually cool. Gray waved at his friend Matt when we got there, but we didn’t stop to talk to him.
Matt worked at the DC on first shift although I’d never seen him. He didn’t have any kids but had started coaching because his nephew wanted to play, and there was no one willing to do the job. But that was a couple of years ago. His nephew had aged out of Pee Wee Football, and he’d kept taking on new teams, year after year, because he loved it. My heart did a little swoon, and I thought about the possibility that all his friends were this way. Usually, people ran in crowds with others similar to themselves—the whole birds of a feather thing. If Gray was anything like Matt, I was in deeper trouble than I’d thought. I had only spent a few hours with him, but I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
A nagging fear entered my head—I hadn’t been with anyone, physically or emotionally, since Will, and I’d had no desire to do so before meeting Gray. I’d intentionally kept people, not just men, away. New relationships of any kind terrified me, so the idea of wanting to get to know Gray was foreign. He was out of my comfort zone and tearing holes in my safety net.
Gray had brought chairs and set them up on the sideline with the other parents as if he was one of them. When we sat down, I covered myself with the blanket he offered. I leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Do you know any of these people?” I was a bit uncomfortable thinking it was odd we were here amongst the parents and families of these little kids.
“Nope, but they don’t know that. Act the part, and no one will ever question it. Plus, why can’t I be here to support my friend?”
“What do you mean?”
“Enjoy it, Annie. Have fun. Scream, yell, tell the refs they make bad calls, run up and down the field like Johnny is your kid—no one knows the difference.”
In no time, the refs had made what Gray believed to be a bad call, which was humorous since they weren’t keeping score. He and another overzealous father jumped up and started hollering at the guy, and before I knew it, he’d made a friend. I was in awe of how easily he joined in with people he didn’t know and how quickly he managed to find a buddy in a swarm of strangers. I was the exact opposite—introverted, at least in my personal life. I found crowds to be terribly painful. I was reserved and high-strung, type-A to the letter, which served me well professionally. Will’s life had sucked my ability to be playful right out of me and left behind this control freak afraid to interact with the general population in social settings. But Gray was laughing and carrying on with a man he’d never met and cheering for kids he would never see again. I grinned from ear to ear, enraptured by his infectious demeanor…and wondering what it would be like to love someone who wasn’t so damaged.
There was no score, but anyone on the sideline could have easily counted, and Matt’s team clobbered the other little boys when the final buzzer went off. Gray was bouncing around like a ninny, hollering his congratulations, when suddenly, he scooped me up from the chair. Swinging me in circles, he planted a big, wet smack on my lips. If he got this excited about Pee Wee Football, I wondered how he’d react to adult life.
Matt called us over before we left and Gray whispered, “You’ll like him. Don’t be nervous.”
His early assessment surprised me. I had assumed he hadn’t picked up on my apprehension and aversion to unfamiliar people and places. Most people assume my confidence in the professional arena translated to the same off the clock, which was a far cry from the truth. But somehow, he’d seen my anxiety with me sitting on the sideline.
“Hey, man. This is Annie. She’s the one Brett and Dan hired.” Gray clapped Matt on the shoulder as he introduced me.
I offered his friend a shy wave and soft “hello,” but he swallowed me in a bear hug in return.
“Glad you guys came. They played great didn’t they?” He looked over his group of boys with pride.
“They stomped the snot out of the other team, man. Your running back has some natural talent.”
A parent called out to Matt, cutting the conversation short. “Hey, guys, I’ve got to run. Annie, it was nice meeting you. I’m sure I’ll see you around the DC. And Gray, thanks for coming out.”
Gray took my hand and carried the chairs in the other with the blanket thrown over his shoulder. He waved to Matt again, and we went back to his truck. It was almost ten o’clock, and I hadn’t realized how tired I was. If I hadn’t smoked a freaking bowl before he’d gotten to my house, I might have been able to keep my eyes open. The side effects of that stuff were twofold—it calmed my nerves, but a couple of hours later, I was ready to crash. As if he’d read my mind, he said, “I know it’s early, but I have to be at work at seven on Friday mornings, and I had a late night last night.”
“No worries. I’m pretty tired. I should head home to turn in, too,” I uttered, stifling a yawn.
He took me back to my apartment and walked me to the front door. He kissed me quickly on the cheek, letting go of the hand he’d been holding. “Thanks for going with me, Annie. I had a good time tonight.”
“Me too.”
I was about to ask him if he wanted to come in when he said, “I’ll call you later.”
“Bye, Gray. Be careful driving home.”
He winked at me; then he left.
I was aware I had a tendency to read way too much into things, over analyze the hell out of every detail, but something seemed off. He was all right un
til we got to the parking lot at the game. After he listened to a voicemail when we’d gotten back in the truck, he suddenly became distant. He’d said the message was from Topher, so I hadn’t thought anything about it. I brushed it off, too tired to think about it, and went straight to bed.
Chapter Three
Gray made no contact for over a week. I hadn’t called him, nor had I seen him at the distribution center. I was there daily and fully involved in the contract, working on setting up the team to proceed with the job after I pulled out. He didn’t work Monday through Thursday, but it surprised me when he wasn’t there Friday, either.
I tried not to worry too much about it, but I was slowly losing that battle. I couldn’t stop thinking about him or what I might have done at the football game to cause his sudden lack of interest. The only thing I could discern was the pot. He had smelled it in my apartment, but I hadn’t lied. It was something I did—I hadn’t mentioned the cocaine. Based on his reaction to the weed, I’d never do any of it around him. He didn’t realize I’d never been around him when I wasn’t on something—typically coke. Not once had I been sober in his presence.
One lesson my dad had instilled—girls don’t go after boys—I refused to contact Gray. Attention was not something to beg for, and I refused to ask Lynn for insight, either. I left the DC on Friday having accomplished a lot, but feeling defeated—not a good way to spend the weekend. It wasn’t possible to miss someone after such a short period, but I did.
Saturday morning, I packed a bag to spend the weekend with a friend in Columbia. Jeff and I had met my freshman year at orientation. I had planned to attend the Columbia campus, but couldn’t make that work with Walton’s, so I stayed in Greenville and commuted to Spartanburg for class. It ended up being a life saver because my scholarship took care of my tuition and books and left me to cover my living expenses. But oddly enough, in that one weekend I was at orientation in Columbia, I had met some great people I was still friends with—all of whom would be celebrating with us.
Jeff was one of those people and had fast become one of my closest buddies. He had maintained a lingering crush since that weekend, but I wasn’t interested. He flirted, which made me feel good. He was protective, which offered me security in an unfamiliar city. And he loved me the way a friend should. He had never crossed the proverbial line, but if I gave him even the slightest inclination I was interested, he would have been all over it.
He was taking me to see my favorite band, Uncle Albert, playing in Five Points to bring in my twenty-first birthday. I always had fun with him and figured the concert had come at the perfect time to take my mind off Gray.
Out in the streets of downtown Columbia, under the stars and inky night sky, I danced to the beat of the bluesy funk coming from the stage with my friends close by, and Jeff howling in laughter as he watched me alone in the street full of people.
“I never see you really let your hair down, Annie. It’s a good look for you.” He tripped over an invisible ball of nothing on the sidewalk, drunk as a skunk. When he picked himself up off the ground, he raised his beer bottle in his hand, and called out, “It’s okay! I didn’t spill it. The birthday beer is safe!”
I couldn’t help but enjoy watching him make a fool of himself along with twenty of his closest friends who all broke out into a chorus of “Happy Birthday” anytime the occasion was mentioned.
I swayed to the music and absorbed the throaty moans of the lead singer. The smoked-induced high relaxed me, and I was oblivious to everything else. My phone vibrated in my jeans, which I assumed was another birthday wish, but I stopped dancing when I saw the caller ID.
Gray Dearsley.
I ignored it and slipped the phone back in my pocket.
“Annie, who was that on the phone? You look like someone just smacked you, and no one should be bringing my girl down on her birthday.” Jeff’s slurred concern was charming, but I didn’t care to get into this with him.
“No one worth talking about.” I tried to fake a smile.
Sensing something was awry, even inebriated, he came up, wrapped his arms around me, and gave me a quick hug. Then he took my hands and tried to get me to do the Carolina Shag with him. I threw my head back in a hearty laugh. Only Jeff would try to Shag to this kind of music in the streets of downtown Columbia.
“Shagging is the dance of the South, Annie. You can do it to any music, and any Southern gentleman worth his heritage will make it look cool while he does.” Jeff twirled me around. I didn’t Shag, but he pretended I did.
My phone vibrated several more times, but I disregarded it. I was here to have fun and celebrate, and Jeff was doing an excellent job of entertaining me. Hours later, we finally called it a night when they stopped serving alcohol, and Jeff was beyond drunk. I drove us back to his apartment and helped him up the stairs. He pointed at the guest room, as though I wasn’t aware of where I would sleep, and he promptly veered off to his room.
Once in my pajamas, I dragged my tired body into his super comfy guest bed and leaned over to grab my cell phone from my jeans. Gray had called one other time and sent several texts.
Gray: Hey Annie! It’s late but call me when you get this.
Gray: I stopped by your apt when I got off, but you weren’t home. Call me.
Gray: I’m going to bed, but I’ll leave my phone on. If you get this, call me. I need to talk to you.
I debated responding tonight. It had been a great birthday, it was late, I was tired, and honestly, this guy hadn’t called in over a week. He had no idea it was a special day for me, but I wasn’t interested in coming down from my high, nor did I want to seem overly anxious to give him what he wanted—a response. But I hated the games people played and decided not to engage in them.
Me: Out of town this weekend. Be back at the DC Monday a.m.
I placed my phone on the nightstand, thinking he wouldn’t respond tonight. I doubted the chirp of a text message would wake him up. Snuggling into the down comforter as I laid back into the pillow, my phone vibrated.
Gray: Can you come back earlier? I need to talk to you.
Me: I’m visiting a friend in Columbia. When I leave here Monday, I’m going straight to work.
Gray: I know you don’t owe me anything, but I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I need to talk to you before you go back to the DC.
Me: Okay? How about I call you tomorrow?
Gray: Not something I should discuss by phone. You’ll have to trust me on this.
Contemplating whether I wanted to leave early, ditch my friend, and race back to hear whatever he had to say, I didn’t respond immediately. But for whatever reason, I conceded to his request.
Me: Okay. I’ll come back late tomorrow afternoon. I’ll text you when I leave here.
Gray: Thanks, Annie. I’ve missed you.
I had missed him too, but I’d be damned if I’d tell him that when he hadn’t called in days. I couldn’t believe I had agreed to change my plans for a man. Months of therapy had resulted in a promise to myself that I would never compromise who I was again for anyone else. I swore to myself I’d never lose sight of who I was in favor of pleasing a guy. It had been too hard to come back from after dealing with the loss of Will. Sure enough, a handful of text messages had sent that promise out the window. But if something were wrong at the distribution center, I’d rather be aware before I walked into it blindly on Monday morning.
Jeff and I had brunch together the next day, and then he took me birthday shopping. He’s not the guy who bitched about going with women. I didn’t believe he liked shopping, but he loved seeing me happy; therefore, making him happy. I wished I saw him as more than a friend, but it just wasn’t there. I told him briefly about Gray while we wandered around. He appeared skeptical about this whole going home early, but in true Jeff form, he said he understood and to call him if I needed anything. I hugged him, assuring him I would.
In my car, not knowing where the day had gone, I sent Gray a text when I got on the int
erstate.
Me: I’m heading back. Do you want to come to my place?
Gray: Why don’t you come to Topher’s?
Me: Where does he live?
Gray: Take 185N, exit 126, right at the top, 1st right, 1st left. My truck will be on the right
Me: I’ll be there in an hour
I expected a response, but I got nothing, so I set my phone down on the seat and turned up the music. The nervous apprehension threatened to drive me insane without a bowl or a joint to calm my obsessive thoughts. Unable to merely sit and enjoy the ride, I called Jenny.
“Hey, birthday girl!” she answered, entirely too chipper.
“Hey.”
“How’s Columbia? I hated not going with you.” Jenny had three younger brothers and a younger sister. Her dad had passed away when she was ten, and her mom had never remarried. It wasn’t widely known, but Jenny helped raise those kids and contributed to the household budget. Between college classes and a job, she hadn’t been able to leave for the weekend which I had understood.
“It was good. I’m on my way back.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Gray asked me to come home early.” There was no point in beating around the bush. Jenny would see through any bullshit I tried to feed her, and I called her because she’d be straight with me. However, I didn’t expect the silence on the other end of the line.
“Jenny?”
“Would this be the same Gray you drooled over for several weeks, spent every free minute talking to or texting, and then he fell off the face of the earth? Is that the guy we’re referring to?” Her irritation was obvious, and I expected it, but Jenny had been with me through high school. I confided in her when no one else was aware of what was happening to Will at home or what he had been doing to me. My best friend was fiercely protective.
“Yeah,” I replied in resignation.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you leaving your birthday celebration to come home early for a guy who hasn’t called in over a week?”