He blew out a breath. “Becca, I have said more than two words to you.”
“Barely, and I could cut the tension between us with this butter knife,” I said, holding up the knife at the side of my plate. “What is wrong? Are you mad about what happened last night?”
“Mad?”
“Yes, mad. Mad that we kissed, because I don’t think I have ever had a man run out of my room that fast before in my life. I thought...”
“You thought what?”
“I thought that... Never mind, it’s stupid.” I decided to shut my mouth. After all, it was the alcohol talking, and I knew it. I turned my attention to a table full of kids across from us. Grant was silent for what felt like an eternity. Perhaps I had divulged too much to him when I had told him I had dreamt of him holding me the way he was. Perhaps I had bared too much of myself in that moment, and it had freaked him out to know I had thought of him that way. We had exchanged a few letters, and so what if I knew some of his deepest darkest thoughts and secrets and he knew mine? It still meant nothing. I swallowed hard, waiting for him to speak.
“Look, it wasn’t you okay? It was me.”
I rolled my eyes, but I felt the anger boiling inside of me. “Please spare me.” I picked up my glass and downed the remainder of the wine, looking around for the server.
“I...”
I held my hand up to stop Grant from saying any more.
“Just save the old ‘it isn’t you, it’s me’ routine. I’ve heard this before, believe me. You know, over the years, all those letters, perhaps I let my guard down when I admitted to you I dreamt of you holding me...I feel as if I made a fool of myself.”
He picked up his beer, taking another swig, a cocky smile on his face.
“Perhaps you think that is what is bothering me, when really, it appears to be bothering you much more. I was being serious, Becca. It wasn’t you.”
“Then what was it?”
I was ready for some half-assed excuse and I sat there quite sure of myself that he was going to be just like the other men who had given me the ‘it isn’t you, it’s me’ speech.
“What was it?” Grant chuckled in the same manner he always had when he was put on the spot in an uncomfortable situation with his friends. “Perhaps, Becca, I didn’t want to take advantage of a situation where you were feeling vulnerable in the moment. Did you ever think of that?”
Grant’s words had stopped me in my tracks, and I sat there stunned for a moment. He didn’t want to take advantage of a situation where I was feeling vulnerable?
“So if you are wondering why I ran out of your room, it wasn’t because of you. It was because I didn’t want you to think of me as some asshole who would use the fact that you were upset and scared as a simple way to get into your pants.”
I frowned. I literally had no words, and then the server showed up carrying our food. She placed the plates in front of us and scurried off in another direction when she sensed the tension between us. Instead of digging into his food, Grant got up from the table and, without another word, headed towards the bathroom. I frowned. Perhaps Grant was right. Perhaps the fact that he had left the bedroom the way he had was really bothering me more than I had let on. I had no idea that he had felt that way.
Minutes later, he returned, slid into the seat across from me, and dug into his dinner, not saying another word. We ate in silence, and when it came time to take care of the bill I had offered to pay, but he wouldn’t hear of it.
Once again, neither of us said anything on the drive back to my apartment. Once we got inside, I left Grant in the living room and took off into my bedroom. I needed to unwind; the tension was piling into my neck and shoulders. I grabbed my sweats and a towel and went to the bathroom where I filled the tub with hot water and a splash of bubble bath. The smell of lavender quickly filled the room, and I sank into the steaming water, leaning back and placing a hot towel over my eyes.
I listened to the silence for a while and then popped my earphones in and played my relaxing sounds play list. When the water started getting cold, I got out and dried off. I planned to make a cup of chamomile tea and head back to my room and watch a little TV. I wanted to be alone. However, when I entered the living room, I found Grant was pacing back and forth, looking rather agitated, which was odd because Grant hardly ever showed his agitation.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“We need to talk,” he said, gesturing for me to sit down.
I did as he asked, parking myself on the couch and waiting while he continued to pace back and forth.
“What is it?”
“Look, I didn’t want to tell you, but today I did some digging around on Jace.”
“Oh?”
“Becs, I went to The Wine Cellar to scope him out. I just wanted to get a look at him, know what I was up against. When I asked about him, they informed me they had fired him.”
A chill ran through me at that news. “Fired?”
“Yep, the manager there told me he’d been getting distracted, was always on his phone, had bad mood swings, and would leave all hours of his shift.”
I sat there not knowing what to say.
“I then went to his place over off Champaign Trail.”
“And?”
“He no longer lives there. The apartment is for rent and is apparently vacant and has been since the start of the month. Which means...”
“You don’t know where he is,” I finished, looking around my apartment. I brought my hands up and rubbed my arms, another chill running through me.
“Correct.”
“So he could be anywhere? He could be outside right now watching us.”
“He could be. I doubt it, but he could be.”
“My God...why did I ever...” I had to stop. My throat was getting tighter and I could feel the burn in my eyes from tears that had yet to fall. The fear that was rising in me was overwhelming.
I got up from the couch and walked over to the window, peaking out at the street below. “What am I going to do? Why did I ever agree to go out with him? Why didn’t I tell Chris sooner that this had—”
I could feel myself shake as I continued peering through the blinds. I could feel the breakdown about to happen when I felt Grant’s muscular hands on my upper arms. He gently pulled me back from the window and turned me around, looking down into my face.
“Becca, it’s going to be all right.”
“How can you say that? How can you stand there and say it will be all right when you have no clue where he is?”
“Because you are safe with me right now. I promised you that I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“What, are you planning to move in here? Because honestly, I don’t want to be alone ever again.”
I pulled away from him and headed to the kitchen. I pulled the refrigerator door open and grabbed a bottle of wine. I reached for a glass and filled it, turning to Grant. “Want one?”
He shook his head and watched as I put the bottle back and took a long drink of the cool liquid.
“What the hell was I thinking?” I asked myself out loud. “Why did I ever get involved with him? I should have known better. He was so pushy and clingy and...”
The second those words escaped my mouth, the tears poured. I stood there, crying into my glass of wine so hard I shook.