“You did not just call me Slugger.”
He shrugs and takes a drink. “If the shoe fits.”
I thump him in the chest, which only makes him laugh harder, and when I go to thump him again, he catches my hand. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”
I give him my best fake scowl. “I bet you can’t.”
He finally stops laughing and lets go of my hand. I wish he’d keep holding it. His hands are warm and big and callused.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I’m sure you heard about it all on TV.”
“Give me your version.”
I take another drink of my beer. Oddly enough, it’s going down a little smoother. “I caught my boyfriend cheating on me, so I bashed his Porsche in with a bat and took off in his BMW.”
God, that sounds awful when I say it out loud. Tears burn my eyes, and Grayson puts a finger under my chin and turns my face toward his.
“Hey, don’t cry. I wasn’t trying to upset you.”
“You didn’t.” I blink the tears away and shake my head. “I just realized how psycho it makes me sound, but I promise you I’m not. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was upset and heartbroken, and I reacted first.”
“Give yourself a break. You’re human. You should’ve seen me when I got the call that Jack found Lorelei on our bathroom floor with a needle sticking out of her arm.”
I gasp and cover my mouth. “No.”
He nods and takes another pull from his beer. “I wanted to murder someone. I’m sure your brother told you.”
“Actually, he didn’t say much. Will you tell me what happened? Or, you know, don’t, if it’s too personal.”
“Life,” he breathes, looking up at the stars. “Life happened.”
I wouldn’t know much about that. My life has been a series of tour dates, various hotels, and lonely nights spent on the tour bus.
“I know she was your high school sweetheart.”
He nods and looks at me. “Did you have one of those?”
I bark out a laugh. “No.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“I didn’t go to high school. I got my diploma by studying with a tutor between shows.”
“Well, you didn’t miss out on much, trust me. The high-school-sweetheart thing wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.”
He pauses, looking out into the night. Crickets chirp, leaves rustle in the soft breeze, and the moon casts a dull light across the yard.
He finishes his beer and sets it on the porch rail. “Lorelei and I started dating in junior high. We were your typical wild-and-crazy teenagers in love. She ended up pregnant while we were in college, so we both dropped out. I started restoring cars, and she was waitressing. We got lucky because my business took off almost instantly, and it was good money—enough that she was able to quit her job. When Jack was two, we got married, and shortly after that she got pregnant with Emma. She had some complications with that pregnancy and ended up on pain killers.”
Grayson pauses, and I rest my hand on his. I hold my breath when he looks at our hands. Will he push me away? Did I do the wrong thing? The breath whooshes out of my lungs when he flips his hand over to curl his fingers around mine.
“You don’t have to tell me any more if you don’t want to.”
“It’s okay.” He shakes his head and continues. “The start of her addiction is when our marriage started to fall apart. I gave her an ultimatum: she either had to get clean or I was going to take the kids and ask for a divorce.”
“What did she do?”