Rolling her eyes, she removes her hand and straightens her body as though I offended her. She’s quiet most of the way, until I pull up to her sorority house.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“You said you needed a ride,” I remind her.
“I’m going to your house. The girls are going over there to watch the game tonight.” The condescending tone in her voice makes me wish I was the type of guy who could drop her off at the corner and take off.
“Fine.” I jerk the shifter into drive and speed away from the curb.
“You know, Grant, you kind of led me on,” Emily’s sour voice states.
“I never led you on, Emily. There was never anything between us.” Why I’m even engaging her in conversation baffles me.
“I liked you and I know you liked me too, until she came into the picture,” she continues. My knuckles are turning white from the tight grip I have on the steering wheel.
“First, her name is Jessa. Second, if she wouldn’t have come into the picture, you’re right, I would have fucked you and then left you.” My words are harsh but true. Jessa changed me, and I’m not sure anyone else could have.
“Jesus, Grant, you’re being an asshole,” she spouts, crossing her arms and staring out the window. Good, hopefully she’ll shut her mouth now.
I’ve never been happier to be at my fraternity house than I am now. Emily quickly escapes the truck and I casually park in my spot and walk through the back door. Taking the staircase, I give a quick hello to Matt and the guys. Matt eyes me questioningly and I realize that I have no idea where Emily ventured to, nor do I care.
Once I get to my room, I sit on my bed, running my hand through my hair. Decisions and outcomes fill my head. I’m so fucking confused. I didn’t think the fight was that big. I mean sure, it’s the first time we’ve really raised our voices at each other, but I know we’re better than that. We didn’t face and overcome both our pasts to let one fight ruin everything.
Going to my fail-safe, I open the drawer that holds the letters from my mom. I’ve already read this one, but I need to hear her voice again. I pull out the box of letters and grab the one titled, Love Lost. It strikes me as odd that I opened this one after Lizzy, but never opened the Love one until Jessa.
Dear Grant,
So you got your heart broken. You’re probably telling yourself you’ll never fall in love again. That you’ll never get close to someone again. But you will. As much as it hurts, sweetheart, you have to let it go and welcome love when it comes around again. This one wasn’t it, but the next might be. Don’t close off your heart just because you had one bad experience.
My question to you is this. Can you fix it? Are either one of you being stubborn? Fight for it if you love her that much. Don’t give up, and give her your whole self, Grant.
Don’t go through heartbreak for no reason. Fight and save it, if there’s any hope at all. Don’t be a bystander to your life, Grant, be an active participant.
Love,
Mom
XOXO
I tuck it back in the envelope, knowing my mom’s right. This small disagreement is nothing in comparison to what Jessa and I have. I’m not going to let her get away. I see the last letter sitting in the box and I contemplate its fate. A warm feeling spreads through my body and I automatically know it’s time. This is it. I’m not letting the best thing that’s happened in my life slip away.
Packing my bag and not willing to take no for an answer from Jessa, I’ll be spending the night there until he leaves. If Rob’s there, I’m there. A soft knock hits my door and I smile, assuming it’s Jessa. Thank God. I knew we were on the same page. I spring the door open, ready to embrace her, when I find Emily in the doorway. What the hell does she want now?
Chapter 24
Jessa
I’m grateful for the long walk back to the house, although my anger soon shifts to sadness. After Colorado, I thought Grant and I had conquered our pasts. The more I pick apart the scenario that just happened, the more it doesn’t add up. God, I shouldn’t have let Emily get the best of me when she threw my past in my face. I regret not opening that door into Grant’s room. As much as it terrified me to see what was on the other side, I should’ve faced it head on and not let him get away with it. And that’s if he was even there. I know Emily is a conniving bitch, and the fact that I let her get to me like that pisses me off.
My stomach knots when I spot Grant’s truck outside the house. I continue walking, confused but also a little bit hopeful. If he had driven past me just now, I would have seen him. And now that I’m thinking clearly, I don’t remember seeing his truck in his usual spot at the frat house, where he was supposedly sleeping. Oh shit, I’ll bet that bitch was lying through her teeth.
Dex and Brady are sitting at the kitchen table eating when I enter. They simultaneously point downstairs and I race down the narrow steps to find Grant sitting in the music room on a stool, strumming his guitar.
He didn’t sleep with Emily. The relief I feel that he wants me as much as I want him is beyond me. “I’ve been waiting,” he says, holding his hand out for me to join him.
All the anger I’ve felt today dissipates from my pores and my feet move without hesitation. I clasp his hand and he squeezes tightly. Just like that, all is forgotten. The fears, worries, and doubts disappear and it’s only us again. “I was looking for you,” I reveal. He cocks an eyebrow but smirks nonetheless, happy we’re together.
“I’m sorry,” he says and I shake my head, trying to repress the tears that are trying to escape. “Baby, please don’t cry.” He brushes away a lone drop that falls with his touch. “I promise, I’ll never leave again.” He pulls me into a hug and kisses my head. “I love you,” he confirms and my eyes shut.
“I..I’m sorry, too,” I stumble out, and he tells me to hush as my tears wet his t-shirt. “I thought…”
“It’s over and done with, baby. Since I know we’ll have fights again, can we promise something?” he asks and I nod, waiting to hear what he’s going to say.
“We never leave. I don’t care how pissed off we are, we never walk out.” He pushes me back slightly to look me in the eyes, and I nod in agreement. “Now that that’s settled, I have another favor.” He stands up and leads me into the adjoining room. Pointing to where I should sit on a large, brown sofa, he takes a seat on the ottoman across from me. “Now bear with me, I’m no Brady,” he chuckles.
“I don’t want a Brady,” I joke.
“You might think differently when the glass over there starts cracking,” he says light-heartedly, motioning his head to the glass that separates the two rooms.
Bringing my knees up to my chest, my heart stammers as I wait for him to begin. Grant has never sung for me before and the anticipation is killing me.
Strumming the guitar a few times, he starts singing “I’m Yours” by The Script. Every muscle in his strong forearm flexes with each swipe of the strings. I can tell he’s concentrating on making sure he hits all the chords correctly, but every time he sings the words ‘I’m Yours’, he stares at me. And just like that, my heart is healed.
After he finishes, he leans the guitar against the couch and I jump into his lap. “God, I’ve missed you,” he whispers in my ear.