CHAPTER 2
Lauren
“Wake up, Peanut. It’s too beautiful of a day to sleep away.”
I opened my eyes cautiously but didn’t sit up from where I’d fallen asleep on the couch. My short-lived buzz was gone and my head was throbbing. Graham Morgan, all six feet five inches of gorgeous muscle, was standing above me—smiling.
Could the whole thing with Jack have been a bad dream?
Graham lifted my legs, sat on the couch, and lowered them back onto his thighs. He was comfortable with me because I had never so much as hinted I might have feelings for him. He would never know how I savored his touch or how I’d never dated anyone who made my stomach flutter the way it did every time he looked at me.
He ran his hand up and down the shin of one of my legs. “So, where is everyone? Still out on the slopes? Did you stay behind to meet me?” His smile was easy and pleased, the kind someone gave a dog who greeted them with a wagging tail.
I sat up and removed myself from his confusing touch. My head spun and I groaned.
He leaned closer and took a whiff of my breath. “You’ve been drinking.” He placed a hand over his heart. “My little Lauren, all grown up, drunk and passed out before dinner.”
“I’m not drunk,” I croaked, sitting cross-legged facing him.
“Worse, hungover.” Graham attempted a sympathetic look then laughed. “Do you feel like shit? Because you look like you do.”
“Thanks.” I shoved him with my foot. It’s what he expected and what I would have done if this were a normal day.
He grabbed my foot and held it. “So grumpy. I’ll have to cheer you up. How long has it been since someone tickled you until you peed yourself?”
He was joking. Not only had he never done that, but he would have never allowed Jack to go that far either. No one hurt me. No one embarrassed me—not when he was around. Off the football field, Graham was a gentle giant to me. Still, the mischief in his eyes told me I wasn’t going to completely escape.
“Don’t even try it.” I attempted to yank my foot free even though a part of me was loving having his full attention.
“Come on, Peanut, smile just a little,” he said as he slightly tickled the bottom of my foot.
I squirmed and let out an involuntary laugh. “Stop.” It felt good to see him again, too good. He hadn’t made it home for the holidays, so it had been over a year since I’d seen him in person. I felt guilty enjoying myself when he was about to receive devastating news.
He squeezed my foot gently before releasing it. “No frowning. I missed you and I’m in a really good mood.”
“I missed you, too,” I said. It wasn’t exactly witty exchange but it was honest. My mind was racing with everything I wanted to but couldn’t say. Was Jack right? Would the truth be best received from him?
I shivered and glanced at the hearth. The fire had burned out, leaving only smoking ashes. An omen that nothing was forever?
“Did you eat yet?” I asked because if I didn’t find something to distract myself I was going to start vomiting the truth. It was killing me to keep it from him.
“No. I’m starving. The fridge should be stocked. You hungry?”
“I could eat something,” I said.
“First one to the kitchen makes the sandwiches. Last one cleans up.” He stood and bent in the stance of a runner waiting for the starting shot to fire.
I smiled because it was impossible not to. He had his demons, but he’d never discussed them with me. Our friendship was lighthearted and fun. I’d never pushed for more and it was something I regretted. If he stumbled over Hope’s infidelity, I wouldn’t be the one he’d turn to. I might have been if it hadn’t been Jack who had betrayed him.
I scrambled off the couch despite how it made me a little dizzy and raced toward the kitchen. “You’re on.” I beat him, but seated at the island counter, he looked too pleased with himself to not have let me win. I narrowed my eyes at him and he shrugged.
“I forgot how fast those little legs of yours are.”
I nodded and put a hand on one hip. “I may be short, but my foot can still reach your ass.”
He laughed. “Hey, I’ll clean up.”
“You’d better.” I turned and started to search the contents of the fridge. “You’re not allowed to get a big head just because you’re a pro starter now.”
He slapped the table. “Hold on, you’re right, I am kind of a big deal now. So instead of one layer of pickles, put two. You know, thanks to you, I can’t order a turkey sub now without them. You’ve ruined me.”
I placed a jar of sliced pickles next to the luncheon meat and bread on the island between us. “There’s a reason they’ve been around for thousands of years.”
He opened the jar and plopped one into his mouth. “Are you officially done with school now?”
I hunted down plates and silverware. “I hope so.”
He rolled up a piece of turkey and took a healthy bite of it. “Congratulations. You’re officially an adult. Now get a damn job.”
I laughed and paused from assembling the sandwiches. “I have several offers on the table. I just don’t know what I want to do yet.”
“Being a genius is hard, isn’t it?” He didn’t look the least bit serious. “Is there any company that wouldn’t hire you?”
I pushed a finished sandwich across the island toward him. “Do you know that happiness is abstract and subjective regardless of the tools we attempt to measure it with? Despite circumstance or genetics, it often comes down to believing how a person says they are feeling. Medically, we try to measure it. Is the release of dopamine, brain derived neurotrophic proteins, or endorphins happiness? Maybe it’s too much to expect one career to do all that. It might be time to start exploring mammalian mechanisms for releasing oxytocin.”
He blinked a few times fast then said, “In English, Peanut.”
“I’m looking for a job where not everyone is over forty. I want to make friends and date more.”
He nodded and looked me over. “That shouldn’t be hard. You’re adorable.”
I choked on a piece of bread. Adorable. I rolled my eyes skyward.
“But you shouldn’t choose a job by how likely it is to get you laid. You’re too smart for that.”
“Says the football player who just did a commercial in boxers,” I countered. I couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t turning eager women away.
“The underwear gig was a seven-figure contract,” he parried, then smiled again. “Besides, there’s only one woman in my future.” He checked his phone. “Did Hope say what time they’d be back?”
I shook my head. Technically, that was not a lie.
“I’m glad I had her come early. The snow was picking up and the roads were already slippery. The good thing about her being with Jack is I don’t have to worry if she’s okay.” He finished his sandwich, grabbed a bottle of water and said, “I’ll hit the shower then.”
He left without remembering to clean up, but I didn’t say anything. I sagged against the counter, feeling guilty and apprehensive. I tried to call Jack but got only his voicemail.
I had just finished rinsing the dishes when a towel clad Graham appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. His hair was still wet from the shower, and I could barely breathe as I took in the perfection of him.
His jovial mood from earlier was gone. He held up Hope’s engagement ring, and said, “I found this in the bathroom. Hope never takes it off.” He glared at me as if his mind was already running through all the possible explanations and not liking a single one of them. I was reasonably certain he hadn’t yet factored Jack into the equation. He looked confused and upset, but not as angry as he soon would be.
This time my heart did break for him. I wished there were a way to protect him from this, but that wasn’t an option.
I had two choices before me.
I could tell him the truth or I could lie.