Winning With Him (Men of Summer #2) - Lauren Blakely Page 0,34

says, pointing to the more fair-haired one. She’s tall too, maybe just under six feet. “And that’s Sierra,” he says, pointing to the other woman, her hair closer to Grant’s in color, but with a long purple streak down the side.

She’s decked out in Cougars gear.

I furrow my brow, trying to find the Where’s Waldo? hint he’s dropping.

“Look closer, Deck,” he encourages, and that nickname unknots some of the tension in me. He zooms in on the picture, and I crack up when I spot the issue. “Ah, I see she’s wearing Dragons earrings.”

“She is, indeed. She’s a rebel. And she loves to give me a hard time,” he says, then lifts a brow. “You don’t have siblings, do you?”

I shake my head. “No. It’s just me.”

He nods like he’s absorbing that intel, then sets his phone on the nearby coffee table. I swear I can hear what he’s not saying—only child. That makes perfect sense.

“But I have a stepbrother,” I volunteer quickly, even though Aaron hardly changes my only child status, or behavior. “He’s older, so I never lived with him.”

“Yeah? How much older?”

“Nearly ten years. My mom married Tyler when I was seventeen, so I didn’t know Aaron much. Honestly, I don’t know Aaron that well now, either. He lives in Tokyo with his wife, who’s from Japan. They’re both doctors. He met her while working at a hospital there.”

“Tokyo is hella far,” he says. “Probably hard to get together for Christmas.”

I let out a light laugh. “It is. But I could try.”

“You should go,” Grant says earnestly. “It’s good to see family. And thanks for telling me.”

He’s not sarcastic, but I get the subtext. I never told him much about my family before. Maybe this is a small start. “Maybe I’ll offer myself up for a Christmas visit.”

“Do that.” He takes a breath, peers out the window again, then back at me. “And how’s New York treating you?” he asks, his smile disappearing, a note of concern in his voice. Pretty sure I know what he’s getting at. He wants to know what I’m up to at night. I want to know the same about him.

“Better now,” I say, keeping my eyes on him, making my meaning clear. “It’s really good to see you, Grant.”

He lets out a shuddery breath, drags his hand through his hair, looks out the window. Fiddles with his tie once more, tightening the knot rather than loosening it.

But he says nothing.

In his silence, I can read his emotions like a book. He’s wildly conflicted. About everything. About me. About tonight.

“You want that drink? Or a not-drink?”

“Yeah. I’m parched.”

I beckon him into the kitchen, where I grab the bottle of champagne I bought for him. “For the rookie of the year,” I say, lifting the bottle. “Let me pour you a glass.”

I’m about to pop it open when he shakes his head, reaches for the neck, and wraps his hand around it. “No.”

“Why not?”

Grant stares at me like he can’t believe I asked. “Because you don’t drink.”

“But I got it for you. To celebrate,” I say, then stare at our hands wrapped around the bottle. Close to each other’s. So close we could touch.

He tugs a little harder. “Like I said before, I’m not going to drink with you.”

“Why?” I ask. I truly don’t get it. I never asked Nathan not to have a glass of wine. I never told Kyle not to drink a beer. I don’t expect the guys I’m with to live the same way I do.

“This is a choice that matters to you, and I don’t need alcohol to have a good time. I don’t need it to talk to you. But thank you for the offer. I’ll have something else, though.”

“Fair enough,” I say, and I’m honestly gobsmacked.

I don’t know what to make of his reaction—except I don’t have to guess because he keeps talking. “If it matters to you not to drink, it matters to me to make that choice when I’m with you,” Grant adds, more softly this time.

I do get it now.

He’s showing respect. He’s honoring my choices.

“Thank you,” I say, then I grab a can of soda from the fridge, add ice to two tumblers, and pour us both a drink. I lift my glass and we clink in a toast.

“Congratulations, rookie,” I say, lingering on that nickname for him.

The last time I said it, he asked me not to use it.

This time, he nibbles on the corner of his lips for the briefest