Against All Odds (6 page)

Of course I choose the man I shouldn’t. That’s my life. I’m always doing something that causes some sort of a problem. “I didn’t know. He was charming. He seemed sweet last night.”

He groans and stiffens. “He’s not sweet. He’s someone you don’t want to get involved with. Look, don’t stress, okay? I’ll fix this. This won’t affect Cooper or the business. You know I’ve got you.”

I nod and inhale Gray’s cologne and woodsy scent. He soothes me, makes me feel better. He’s always there when I need him, always ready to rescue me from myself. He’s a great guy, and the best friend a girl could have.

“All right, chin up. We need to get the hell out of here. I’ll make a call and get Calia a flight home. I’ll let Coop know you’re flying out with me. No more of this. Let’s just go home.” His tone is final, which works for me.

I have no intention of staying here and waiting for Cooper to come back.
Yeah, I might be running, but oh well.
I push off of Gray, sit up, and cross my legs, looking at him.

When our gazes connect, he smiles, eyes crinkling at the sides, and shakes his head. I watch him sit up to kiss my cheek. His warm lips land against my cool skin, and a tingle wisps across my face. He pulls back, and I see so much love in his expression. He places a finger under my chin. The moment turns intimate, and a shiver sneaks down my body as his aqua eyes glisten with affection.

“You know you’ll always have me no matter what happens, but you don’t have to keep this up anymore. You don’t need these men. They’ll never fill the void you’re trying to make go away. I know Cooper’s shutting you out, but no more of this.” The pad of his thumb caresses my cheek and my eyes close. “It doesn’t have to be like this anymore, sweet cheeks. It can change if you want it to. You just have to want it to be different. Not for Cooper, but for you. You’re worth it, Kylie.”

I open my eyes and stare into his, feeling my heart pick up speed.

“I don’t like all these men you use. Please, no more. If you need something, anything at all”—his eyes turn heated as his hands cup the nape of my neck—“just use me.”

I pull in a deep breath, almost a gasp. The way he’s looking at me, the way he cups my neck, feels very, very intimate. What he just said is laced with meaning. I don’t know what to do with this revelation. I glance down and fidget with my hands as he lets go of my neck.

“What does that mean?” He knows Coop and I have limits, boundaries, and I’m not sure what he’s trying to do.

“It means exactly what you think it means. I’m tired of seeing you suffering. I’m not standing by to watch it anymore. This was the last guy you used. I can’t… I just can’t hear or see it anymore. If you need something, need to feel something, come to me. I
will
take care of you. You know that.”

I look at him, my mouth ajar and face flushed. His brows lift, his face washed in sincerity. Everything about him is open and honest. He’s not embarrassed or uncomfortable. What the hell is he thinking?

“Jesus, what about Cooper?” I mutter, averting my eyes and getting off the bed.

“What about him?” His voice drops, and he gets up, moving toward me. “I know how you guys work. You’re both fucking each other over, but at the end of the day, he’s supposed to be your man.” He stops in front of me and pulls my chin up so I can meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, Ky, but I’ve been watching for so long. I can’t do it anymore. This bullshit, it has to stop. I’m tired of him; I’m tired of talking to him about you. I’m tired of trying to get him to wake up. If he can’t take care of his own wife, then maybe it’s time that someone who can, and who wants to, does so.”

“Grayson,” I whisper, my head reeling, “we have rules. Cooper and I have rules.”

“Fuck your rules. You’re damaging yourselves so badly that those stupid rules are irrelevant.” He takes a breath, his face littered with frustration. “Tell me, do you even remember what your golden rules are?”

Anger whips through me at the way he’s talking about Cooper and me. “Yes, of course I know what they are.”

“Remind me then.” His stare is unrelenting. He’s making a point.

I pull my face from his hand. “One: we never stay the night; we always come home. Two: We always use protection. Three: No fucking friends. Meaning you”—I point at him, my voice cracking—“and Calia are off limits.”

Hearing those stupid, disgusting rules breaks my heart. How did I become this? Why have I allowed this in my life? How could I have suggested this? I’m twenty-four, and my life’s a mess. God, my chest aches. I feel bruised inside, like a baseball bat has been taken to every organ. I can fault no one but myself. Self-loathing is a bad ass motherfucker, and right now, she’s kicking my ass.

He wraps me in his arms, sighing. “Be honest with yourself. Open your eyes, sweetness, and see your life, your actual life, for what it is. You’re not the same girl you used to be. You were so vibrant before all this.” His lips graze my head with a soft kiss. “I know losing Kayla was devastating, and I can’t imagine what you both felt, but this… this life? What you guys have created? It isn’t you. It just isn’t you.”

His words are tortured. He loves us, but I think the days of Gray standing by and watching us implode just expired.

“Look, Cooper’s been my friend for so long that I don’t even know my life without him. But in the last couple years, he’s become a different person. I can’t fix that. He needs to figure out his shit and man up. I’ve had enough of watching him let you down.”

I’m stunned that Gray is talking about Cooper like this. I open my mouth to defend my husband, but before I can get a word out he speaks again, low and serious.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t make excuses for him. I know you love him, but sometimes that’s not enough. You might not want to hear this, but I have to say it. He loves you and you love him, but maybe that’s not enough anymore. You’re putting yourself in situations that aren’t safe, with people you don’t know. I’ve always cared about you, Ky, but the time we’ve spent together has deepened that. You need to understand something.” He pulls back to look at me. “I’m not afraid of your rules. Cooper… he’s not getting it. It’s about time you put yourself first.”

He’s wrong.
I’ve been putting myself first for a long time. That’s exactly what got me here. It needs to stop. I need to figure out why I’m so broken. But getting involved with Grayson is not the way to go. If I cross that boundary, my marriage won’t just be rocky—it would implode. Completely. Cooper would not only kill him, he would never look at me again. I’d be dead to him.

I step back and release a shaky breath. “I don’t know what to say. You know that we…” I flick my eyes to the other side of the room to collect my scattered thoughts.

Erasing the distance I just tried to put between us, he lifts my face to his. Our eyes connect, and my pulse—already wild—intensifies.

He looks straight through to the heart of me. “You don’t have to say anything right now. You don’t have to say anything ever. Just think about what I’m saying.” Gaze locked on mine, he places a tender kiss on my lips.

When he pulls back, he clears his throat and pulls out his phone. “All right, get packed. I’ll call the pilot and let him know we’re ready to leave.”

I nod numbly as he walks out of the room. I want to go home to my empty house. My empty bed. My empty life. I need some time away from everyone. I need to figure out what’s wrong with me.
What happened to the girl with morals?

I close my eyes as all energy drains from my body. I slip to the ground, hugging my knees. I miss my life before Kayla died. Before all I felt was pain and hopelessness. Before all I saw was a nightmare. Before I shut down and started doing stupid things.

I need to find the girl I used to be, but I’m not sure she’s in there anymore. I’m not sure she’s strong enough to come back. Because coming back means feeling the loss of her baby and confronting the problems in her marriage. It means facing pain, fear, and guilt. That is so terrifying that living in a state of numbness and denial might just be easier.

I’ve been home for three days. Three long and lonely days.

Gray had dropped me off, kissed me on the cheek, and said, “Think about it.” His parting words were soft and loaded with emotion, leaving me confused.

Cooper had obviously stayed in Key West. I’ve made an effort to text him once a day, and I even tried to call, but he’s either ignoring my calls or too busy to pick up. Gray hasn’t called or checked on me. I think he’s giving me space. He knows me well. He knows I desperately needed a time out.

Today I thought about getting out of the house, but it’s so hot and humid outside that I don’t want to leave. So I decided to stay home, relax, and get some organizing done. I grab my iced coffee off the kitchen counter and walk to my home office. As I step inside, I try to gauge which disaster I should tackle first.

I’m a notoriously messy person. Every drawer and cabinet is piled with organized chaos. It drives Cooper insane, but we have a rule that my office is the one room he’s not allowed in. It’s mine and mine alone to do with what I please.

It’s become my home away from home. The rest of the house has always felt like a museum, but this room is homey, special. If I feel sad, tired, or lonely, I can come here, curl up with a book, and be completely myself without having to worry about or bother Cooper.

When I told Coop about my plans for the office and library, he rolled his eyes and said, “It’s just going to be another place for you to store your junk.” I laughed because he was right. I collect little trinkets, knickknacks, and books. He’s a minimalist, so the thought of having any of that shit makes him crazy.

But after a bit of remodeling I had a space that fit my personality perfectly. Big bookshelves were placed against the far side of the room. The walls were painted a silvery gray, and a gorgeous black desk sat right in the center with a comfortable white chair. The only pop of color in the room comes from a bright coral rug.

I have tons of framed pictures on the desk and others on the walls. Every single one contains a picture of Cooper and me. Some are of us kayaking or going to the beach, and others show us on the day we were married.

Every memory I have has Cooper in it. Every major moment in our relationship has been caught in a snapshot or on video. It’s a little weird that this room, my safe place, is nothing more than a shrine to our relationship.
I must be a masochist.

I set the coffee on the desk and grab a stack of papers that have been sitting on my laptop forever. I boot up my Mac, open Spotify, and play some music to get me in the organizing mood. The sound of “Broken” by Secondhand Serenade plays, and I become perfectly numb, engrossed in sorting and shredding. Organizing things is very therapeutic. I find it helps to settle the soul.

My grandmother always said, “The state of your house is a direct reflection of the state of your heart.” Looking at my life, I’d have to agree. On the outside, it looks pretty, but in the drawers and cabinets, it’s filled with secrets and pushed-down memories, tucked deeply into the recesses of every space. I have so many little cubbies in my heart and mind that are clouded with raging thoughts.

After organizing my desk, I move to the file cabinet and tackle the mountain of papers. A fast song thumps in the background, and I feel the need to dance. I’ve always loved dancing. As Britney starts crooning and the beat fills the air, I decide to have some fun. I toss my papers on the floor to deal with them later.

I giggle. “I swear, I’m a walking contradiction.”

Throwing caution out the window, I grab a pencil holder to use as a microphone. I close my eyes, getting into true Brit Brit style. I sway my hips and eventually drop my ass like it’s hot. My inner stripper comes out to play. I move against any object in sight without a care in the world, singing in my fake microphone.

I put all my energy into it, getting rid of my pent up frustration. I feel free for just a moment. There’s something liberating about letting go, dropping the act, and just
being
. I don’t think; I just feel. I feel the beat, the words, and the moment.

I get lost in my own world. I’m in the middle of shaking my ass when an eerie sensation slips up my back. Something’s behind me. I stop immediately, my heart picking up speed and my stomach clenching. I turn around slowly. I drop my fake mic and a shriek escapes my mouth.

Leaning against the door frame is Grayson with a big, unabashed smirk. Startled and embarrassed, I hide my face between my palms and groan.