Page 43 of Paths
“You do?” Like everything else, it pops out of my mouth before I can catch it and swallow it down.
Clara looks taken aback, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her that way. Nothing ever seems to phase her. “Of course, I do. Why would you say that?”
I shrug. “I’ve just … never had a lot of friends, that’s all.”
“So, wait,” Addy starts, looking distracted. “You said you met your ex when you were sixteen and even though it might’ve been bad at the end, you were together until recently, right?”
“Yeah,” I answer.
“That’s a long time. Have you ever dated anyone else?” she goes on.
I shake my head, biting my lip.
A big grin spreads across Mary’s face. “No wonder his bare feet made you wet in the wonderland. You’ve only ever been with that asshole and now you have Adonis holding your hand and racing you through the woods. You’re like an awkward fairytale for physical therapists everywhere.”
I try not to wiggle in my chair thinking about Grady’s bare anything, but the words just won’t stop now that they’ve started. “My brother, Joe, has some health issues. I just found out today he’s been having seizures again. Since Weston knows where I am, there’s no reason for me not to go see Joe, even though I have no desire to be anywhere near Weston. Since that’s a possibility, Grady said he’d come with me. I feel bad, but like a big fat chicken, I didn’t argue.”
“Why do you feel bad?” Mary asks.
“Because, when Weston showed up on my doorstep, I was shocked to see him. I was even more shocked to see Grady. I had no idea what to do, but I knew I had to do something, so I threw myself at Grady. I kissed him and acted like we’re together, and now he’s playing along, only it doesn’t feel like he’s playing. It feels real.”
“Maybe it’s because he wants it to be real,” Addy says, with a faraway look in her eyes. She’s probably patting herself on the back for her supernatural matchmaking skills.
“That man hasn’t looked like he’s been acting for the last week. He wants you, and you need to let him go home with you. How bad can it be, anyway?” Clara asks.
Thinking of my mother, my mobster ex-fiancé, and his organized-crime-laden family, I decide not to answer that question. To them, I’m just Maya, and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as I can. For the first time in my life, I feel normal.
But I know the answer to her question, and I think it has the potential to be bad.
Really bad.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when Addy’s desk phone rings, and she turns to answer it.
“Really?” she asks into the phone, but looks to me as a smile spreads across her face. She stands and her eyes widen with excitement when she continues. “We’ll be right out.”
“What’s going on?” Clara asks.
“Yeah,” I add. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Addy moves to the door, waving her hand for me to follow. “You got a delivery and Evan said it’s something pretty! Well, he didn’t say pretty, but he did say it was pink and girly, so it has to be pretty, right? Come on, let’s go see what Grady sent you.”
Why would Grady send me anything? He’s been with me constantly—sending me something would be silly.
But I’m a curious girl nonetheless, so I hop up and am the first out the door.
When I round the corner to the tasting room, I see them, and Addy was right—they’re pink and pretty. But they aren’t just pretty, they’re beautiful. A huge arrangement of pink blossoms are overflowing on the bar, but it’s not a bouquet. They’re brimming out of a basket and look more like a plant rather than cut flowers. It has to be over three feet wide and just as tall. I grew up with fresh flowers displayed in our house at all times, and this one would impress even my mother.
My heart stops as I’m halted in my tracks, the rest of the nosy crew stopping with me. None of us utter even an ooh or ah, when the arrangement is completely ooh-and-ah worthy.
This is because Grady is standing next to my delivery and I instantly know it’s not from him. Ever since I first laid eyes on him, he’s been grumpy, brooding, teasing, sweet, or downright panty-melting hot. But I’ve never seen him angry, and it’s radiating off of him.
“Umm.” Clara breaks the silence from beside me. “I take it those aren’t from you, are they, stud muffin?”
Grady doesn’t move, but his eyes dart to Clara and narrow.
“No, I’d say these are definitely not from Grady,” Bev guesses.
“They are pretty,” Addy adds, hesitantly.
