Playing For Her Heart - Megan Erickson Page 0,37

I’ll get in touch with her.”

Austin stood up and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’m taking Marley out to lunch. Do you need anything?”

Grant shook his head. “No, and thanks for coming in to talk to me. Tell Marley I appreciate it.”

“I hope I helped.”

“Yeah, you did. Thanks, buddy.”

When Austin had closed the office door behind him, Grant stared at the phone on his desk. Talking to Ethan, coming clean, would be one of the hardest things he’d ever have to do. Ethan was a rational man, but not when it came to his sisters. He carried guilt on his shoulders like a crippling weight.

Grant wondered how much Chloe was affected by Samantha’s death.

He wondered if it had anything to do with how she was reacting to him.

Before he chickened out, he picked up the phone and dialed Ethan.

“Yes,” his friend answered.

“Hey, it’s Grant.”

“I know that.” Ethan sounded irritated and out of breath.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Ethan blew out a breath into the phone. “I’m fine, it’s…Chloe.”

Grant leaned forward, gripping the edge of his desk with white knuckles. “What’s wrong? Is she okay?”

“I’ve been calling her and she isn’t answering. She texted that she was fine and to stop bugging her. But fine means not fine, right? I know it’s been a while, but I’m pretty sure when a woman says she’s fine, it’s time to panic.”

That seemed a little nosy to Grant, but then, he didn’t know their relationship. Still, his chest squeezed. Now definitely wasn’t the time to come clean about what he and Chloe had been doing. He hoped Chloe was okay, and vaguely wondered if this was his fault, if he’d pushed her too far, made her feel unsafe in any way.

Shit.

“Is this about Samantha—”

“No,” Ethan said quickly.

Grant didn’t ask and he hoped Ethan knew what he was talking about. He did still wonder if Chloe had come to terms with her sister’s passing. Grant wanted to be able to be there for Chloe, to tell Ethan that he cared for her and wanted to help. He hated that he was in this helpless position. “If there’s anything I can do—”

“It’s fine, Grant, but I have to go. If she doesn’t pick up my phone calls, I’m going over to see her. Did you need something?”

“Uh, well.” He licked his lips. “I was actually going to ask you for Chloe’s phone number.”

Silence.

Grant never could stay quiet during silence. “I had some questions…for a friend…about…security.” He was fumbling over his words. No way would Ethan not see right through that. “But it can wait. Take care of your sister, Ethan.”

There was a pause. “Will do.”

The call ended.

Grant stared at the phone for a minute, silent in its receiver. Then he pulled up his Internet browser and began to research grief. It made him feel a little bit less helpless.

…

Chloe lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

She couldn’t even get herself off properly anymore.

After the fuckup that was the night at Grant’s, Chloe had holed herself up in her apartment. Ethan had been calling her all day and night. She’d blown him off with an “I’m fine” text, but who knew how long that would hold him off. Like a true introvert, she needed plenty of alone time to recharge before she had to talk to anyone again. The night at Grant’s had been more than she could handle. She’d come so close, so close to letting him in but she wasn’t ready for that.

Not when her family was still a mess and Ethan still needed watching. Even if he denied it. No, this was fine. This was okay.

If only she could have a freaking orgasm. She decided on her go-to fantasy, which was Kahl Drogo in Game of Thrones. So she was Daenerys predragon but whatever. That Daenerys was still pretty badass.

She lay on her back while morning sun crept across the floor of her bedroom and slipped her fingers into her panties.

She imagined big Kahl Drogo with his long, dark braid and his kohl-rimmed eyes grabbing her thighs and plunging into her again, and again and…

Blue eyes flashed in her vision.

Wait, what? Kahl Drogo didn’t have blue eyes. He had brown eyes.

And he didn’t smile, and call her Princess. She was Kahleesi, dammit. Kahleesi.

Come for me, Princess.

No, shit, that wasn’t Kahl’s guttural tone, that was Grant’s deep, friendly one.

This always worked, her fantasies. This was her escape, her way to get away and now all she could hear was Grant’s voice and all she