way to see Garret Blake with the marketing stuff I put together for him last night. I look like this because I stayed up all night to get it finished.” I take a bite of the pepperoni even though I think I might puke. “I just want to be done with it. Move on.”
It's what I have to do. I have to contain these Grayson-centered thoughts and memories to the smallest part of my brain possible. I need to replace them with something—anything—else.
It’s the only way I can imagine getting through this.
Kaylee drops her hands from the spoon. “I’m so sorry. I feel guilty.”
“Why?”
“Because I … Well, I clearly misread the signs.”
I stand and wipe my hands on my jeans. “This has nothing to do with you. You are a good friend. I just needed to tell someone where I was going in case I make a scene and they call the cops and someone has to come bail me out.”
She pulls me into a quick hug before I head to the door.
“Also,” I say, over my shoulder, “I’m going out with some dude whose name I don’t know tonight. So come over around five and help me get ready.”
“I’ll be there.”
We exchange a sad smile.
I step into the early morning sunshine and set my sights on Blake Brother Auto Repair.
“Good morning,” I call out to Garret.
He lifts his eyes from a stack of papers on his desk. He looks surprised to see me as I walk into his office.
“I got all of your fliers done,” I say, plopping a folder in front of him. “If you could email me a user name and password to your website, I can go on there tonight or tomorrow and add whatever you want. Just please put all of that in the email too.”
He leans back in his chair. It squeaks a sharp, high-pitched squeal.
“How are you?” he asks, not acknowledging the folder.
Nope. Not going there.
No doubt Garret knows what happened and, judging by the sympathy I can see in his expression, he feels pity for me.
My stomach tosses and turns.
“Oh, I had another idea as I was researching layouts for the flier last night. Have you thought about having a car show here? Have people bring their classics and park them in the parking lot. You could have burgers and hot dogs and a band or something. It’ll bring a lot of people here and maybe draw some additional interest into the shop.” I shrug. “Just a thought.”
A slow smile spreads across his lips. “That’s a great idea.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you—”
“Where in the hell are the …” Grayson rounds the corner, his voice petering out as his eyes land on me.
The air fills with his cologne, the earthy, musky notes caressing my senses. Memories of the trail and the swing and of him catapult back to me, and I wish I could make it stop.
I drag my gaze from his thick chest to his brother. “I’ll look for your email.” I flash him a smile and head for the door. “Excuse me,” I say as I make a point not to touch Grayson on my way out.
My shoes clatter against the linoleum as I walk down the empty hall. My heartbeat picks up as I nearly run to the front door.
“Haley!” Grayson calls out to me.
I don’t turn back.
I have nothing to say to you.
“Haley! Dammit. Stop,” he says.
I get to the door that opens into the waiting area. I want to charge through the lobby and race to my car and never set foot in here again. But, even if I manage that, we’re going to come face-to-face somewhere at some point—likely Fireside when I’m working.
I’d rather not have this conversation there.
“Haley!”
My feet falter, but I come to a stop a few steps before the door. My hackles are raised. My gut’s clenched in preparation to fight or flee, and I do my best to keep my head clear as he approaches.
“What do you want?” I ask him, my voice cut and dried.
He stops a few feet in front of me and peers down. The flecks of blue I know to look for in his eyes are there—all soft and brilliant at the same time.
“I don’t have a lot of time …” I shrug. “What’s up?”
He opens his mouth and then closes it.
I get antsy, my weight swaying from side to side. I don’t want to stand here in front of him as if I expect him to apologize or make me some