I don’t reply because I don’t have an answer. In high school, he was my crush. Now that I’m an adult, there is still some attraction there. I mean, he’s a firefighter, his body is muscular and carved to perfection, and the ink… the ink is sexy as hell. I don’t know if it’s Grayson that I’m crushing on or the idea of Grayson. He checks off all of my boxes. Not to mention, he’s an amazing father to those two little girls. I don’t know any woman who would see him with his daughters and not swoon over him.
Just as we’re getting ready to exit the car, I get an alert on my phone from the MC Scoop. I usually ignore it—in fact, I should delete the app—but something tells me to open it. I regret it as soon as I do. Tate is at it again; only this time it’s me, and Grayson, and his daughters she’s speculating about. “Ugh,” I say, handing Justine my phone. She reads the small blurb, and throws her head back, laughing. “It’s not funny.”
“It kind of is,” she replies.
“Yeah, well, Tate is a pain in the ass with this blog of hers.”
“Come on.” She reaches for her handle. “It’s out there. There is nothing you can do about it now. Once people see the two of you aren’t together, the speculation will die down.”
I hope she’s right, I think to myself as I shove my phone back into my purse and climb out of the car.
“You should wear that denim skirt tonight,” Justine says, pulling in front of the bookstore.
“You think so?” I ask with amusement. “And what are you wearing?”
“Hopefully nothing once Tucker gets home.” She wags her eyebrows.
“I mean to Pony Up.” I can’t help but shake my head at her antics. It’s so good to have her back home. I missed her so much while she was living in New York.
“I’ll wear mine too.” She points to the back seat of her car. “They’re cute.”
“Agreed. Okay, what time are we meeting?”
“I’ll just swing by and pick you up. Tucker is going in early to set up. I’ll be here at sevenish.”
“Perfect. Thanks for today. It was fun.”
“See you in a couple of hours.” She waves as I shut the door and step back. With my arms full of bags, I struggle with unlocking the door to the store. I usually only use the back entrance after hours, but it was just easier for her to pull out front and drop me off. Besides, this is closer, and these bags are heavy.
Finally, I manage to get the door open. I drop my bags inside and pull the door closed, locking it. Loading my arms up again, I drag my purchases upstairs to my apartment. It’s a small studio-style space. I have my queen-size bed in the far back corner and the kitchen in the opposite corner. The rest is living space, a couch, bookshelves, a small television, and my reading chair. It’s one of those huge round ones that swivel back and forth. It’s big enough for another person and me. Depending on who the person is, we’d still have room. I love it. I keep my “one more chapter” pillow and a super soft throw that Leni got me for Christmas a few years ago draped over the back. It’s the perfect reading spot.
When I bought this place, this space was the deciding factor. I always had dreams of owning a bookstore, and when Nana passed, she left my sister, Lenora, and me a small inheritance. I wanted to purchase a home of my own and a business. This building allowed me the freedom to do both.
It takes me some time to unpack all of my purchases from today. It’s been forever since I’ve gone shopping like this. I’m just about to strip down for a shower when my cell rings. I smile when I see it’s my sister. “Hey, you.”
“What are you getting into tonight?” Lenora asks me.
“Heading to Pony Up with Justine. You?”
“You want some company?”
“What?”
She laughs. “I asked if you wanted some company.”
“Are you here?” I ask, my voice rising an octave.
“I’m here.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“What about Trace?”
“He’s here too. And all of our stuff.”
“Explain,” I demand of my sister.
“You were right. This is where I want him to grow up. This is where I want to be. So, I tied up some loose ends, called Mom and Dad, and here we are.”
“You’re home?” I ask, tears welling in my eyes. “You’re really here?”
“I’m here.”
“I’m mad at you for not telling me, but I’m thrilled that you’re back. That you’re home for good.”
“Good. You need to help me find a place of my own. I love Mom and Dad, but I don’t know if I can handle living with them again after being on my own for so long.”