Things started getting complicated right around the time I wanted to say fuck it to the list and tell Gracie how I honestly felt.

I showed up back in New York feeling ready to put it all out there. Spring training had been a fucking grind. I hated the heat and the lack of downtime. I hated the reporters, the press conferences, and the non-stop pressure to bring my A-game.

Not to mention my parents were there for the last two weeks of training – in my apartment. With Gabe and me.

I love them, I do, but the space got tight. Of course, my parents didn’t seem to mind, and Gabe didn’t give a shit. But it meant my privacy was gone.

Which meant even if I wanted to FaceTime Gracie... see if she wanted to veer off the list... people would hear us.

Of course, I could call her while in the fucking car or in the parking lot. I know that. But every time I thought about it, I thought about her fancy ass family and her fancy ass degree. She isn’t being politically correct to be cool – she’s just that good. That put together. She says the right things without even realizing that she has the upper hand in everything.

Gracie is the perfect girl and I’m not the perfect guy.

Hell, I almost got her fucking arrested for public indecency, what kind of asshole does that?

But here I am, already exhausted, not having even started the fucking season. And all I want is to walk into the apartment building, knock on Gracie’s door and pull her into a big ass bear hug.

I want to smell her hair and kiss her skin and tell her that I may be a player who chases tail, but I only want one ass. I want to be hers even though I know I’m not worthy of her.

I want to tell her that yeah, I’ve slept around, but this Kinky List is fucking news to me too. I’ve never fucking gotten off while a woman watched from across the country. I’ve never pinned a woman to a wall in the alley and given her my cock. But with Gracie I did. Not to mention, I swear, in that alley, I gave her my fucking heart.

Only trouble is, I haven’t exactly explained that to her. I never laid it out, let her know how I felt when she was in my arms. How, even though I’m the big guy with broad shoulders when our bodies are pressed together, it feels like she’s the one holding me up.

I don’t know what I’ll get in return, and I know messing up her list is a shitty move, but I don’t exactly want to live with regrets when it comes to Gracie.

The elevator doors open on our floor. And I walk through them, ready to knock on her door.

But before I even reach it, she comes out of it.

A smile spreads across my face. Gracie with her soft brown hair in waves down her back. Gracie with her pink lips and long lashes. Gracie with her ...with someone else.

A guy.

A fucking dude.

He follows her out into the hall, and she laughs, waiting for something. For someone.

Then a second guy comes out of her apartment. A guy who presses his hand to the small of Gracie’s back.

My jaw tenses; she doesn’t see me here. I don’t want to watch, but I can’t fucking look away.

With a jean jacket on, and her purse on her shoulders, Gracie’s clearly leaving. With these two guys. She locks her door, then says something that makes them laugh.

She still doesn’t see me, but she’s about to. She takes steps down the hall with these men by her side, and I try to fucking process whatever the hell is going on.

I realize I’ve never actually seen Gracie with any guys, and certainly not guys who touch her skin as if it is familiar. It’s been what, three weeks since our video chat ... and suddenly I wish I hadn’t given her space.

I wish I’d been all up in her grill.

She sees me.

“Cooper?” Her eyes go wide, and she grins. “Oh, my god, I did not expect to see you.”

“I just got home.”

“Wow, well,” she smiles again, “welcome back.”

“Thanks.” I want to reach out and give her a hug, and even though I have no claim on her, I get territorial. She steps back, though, arms hugging her chest, giving me a message. “Are you headed out?” I ask although it’s fucking obvious.

She tells the guys to give her a second, and I’m relieved. They nod and walk toward the elevator bank and for a second I think maybe she’ll send them away.

“Yeah.” She scrunches up her shoulders. “Stephen and Drake are my dates tonight.”

“Dates?”

“Yep,” she says, smiling, looking past me to the guys.

“I didn’t realize you were...” What am I supposed to say that won’t make me sound like a fucking ass? That I didn’t think she would be dating anyone? Why shouldn’t she be? Sure, she’s getting kinky with me, but this was a no-strings-attached partnership. I’m her sex-guru, not her boyfriend.

“Well, isn’t that the whole point of the Kinky List, Coop? To broaden my horizons?”

“Right.” I give a short, sharp laugh. Because is this for real? It’s like this entire thing is blowing up in my face. “Well, have fun.”

My ego is hella bruised and I’m fucking torn up about it. Like, what did I think, an amazing, gorgeous woman like Gracie would be waiting around for a brute like me?

I look back at Stephen and Drake who have pulled out their phones. They look put together in ways I never do. Fuck, I’m in low-slung jeans, Nikes, and a hoodie. Those guys are wearing slacks with motherfucking creases and narrow ties and suit coats. They look all GQ with their fucking hipster haircuts.

I run my hand through my long, shaggy hair. Fuck, I haven’t shaved in two days. This was fucking stupid, to think Gracie would be waiting for me because we had a few fun nights together.

“Well, I should head out, don’t want to be rude,” she says, biting her bottom lip. That’s when I realize she’s in a tight little top, her cleavage spilling out. Black pleather pants and heels. If I wasn’t staring into her eyes, I wouldn’t even believe it's Gracie.

I suddenly remember our exchange during our call... she was stressed out about something, had been crying, but wouldn’t tell me what.

“You okay, Gracie?” When she looks at me blankly, almost steely, I add. “Like, are we okay?”

“Oh,” she says in her brightest voice. “We’re totally good, Cooper. Can’t wait for the next item on the list.” She winks. Literally, Gracie Lithe winks at me, like she is the fucking devil, and then she walks away. Just like that.

She’s a walking hard-on, that’s what she is, and she’s walking away from me.

Shit.

Why does it feel like I just lost the best thing I never had?