Page 21 of Burning Embers

Isabella Gracie.

Ugh.

I plug in my new phone number and am just about to hand it back to him when it buzzes with an incoming notification. Instinctively, I click on it, and the smile slips from my face at the barrage of text messages.

Sydney

Why aren’t you calling me back, baby?

Sydney

I’m waiting for you.

Sydney

Grayson, why aren’t you answering?

Those text messages are followed by a plethora of photos. The first few show a brunette woman in a pair of lacy underwear. And the last few show the same girl in nothing at all.

I drop the phone with an almost blistering speed, cringing when it falls to the floor and then slides beneath my seat.

Grayson throws me a disbelieving look, his brows furrowing.

“The vibrations startled me,” I lie, forcing an easy-going smile back on my face, though it wilts at the edges like a rose sprayed in pesticide. “Also, your girlfriend texted.” I try to keep my voice calm and nonchalant, not allowing him to hear any of the hidden emotions percolating inside of me.

Grayson’s frown deepens.

“You know…Sydney.” I shift uncomfortably in the passenger seat. “She was sending you a lot of texts and pictures.” I try for a laugh and pray it doesn’t sound as forced to his ears as it does my own.

In all the years I’ve known Grayson, he never once indicated he was interested in me likethat. Even when I tried to kiss him, back when I was a confused fifteen-year-old and he was sixteen, he simply grabbed my shoulders and pushed me away with a frown on his face. I was so embarrassed that I refused to talk to him for over a week, afraid I ruined our friendship, but he found me at my foster home, held me against his chest, and silently assured me that everything will be all right. Thatwe’llbe all right.

But then everything became confusing yet again when I lost my virginity a few months later. I’d been dating the guy off and on for a few weeks and, naïvely, thought he was the one. However, after we did the deed, he left me abandoned in the middle of the woods with a sneer on his lips, telling me how “easy” I was. How I was a desperate foster girl who would suck any dick for money. Tears streamed down my face, and that washow Gray found me—a few of my shirt buttons missing, blood and cum still staining my legs, and my eyes swollen.

My ex’s broken body was found in the park the very next day. He suffered three broken ribs, two broken fingers, and a bruised and bloody cock. He told the police that he was mugged but couldn’t identify the attacker.

I knew in the darkest recesses of my soul that Grayson was involved.

Ever since then, Gray has watched me like a hawk, following me from town to town, keeping in the shadows, this silent, immovable mountain of muscle. Whenever I even flirt with a boy, he’s there, his eyes glacial, his jaw clenched.

I assumed…

Well, I stupidly assumed he returned my crush.

Apparently, I was wrong.

He probably only sees me as a little sister.

The thought twists my stomach into a dozen tight, intricate knots.

Grayson runs a hand over his clenched jaw as he turns down a rather familiar side road. The huge, red barn in the distance is surrounded by cars. Music, shouts, and laughter can be heard even through the doors of the truck.

Gray pulls into an empty parking space but doesn’t make a move to get out of the vehicle. He simply sits there, his fingers moving across the stubble on his chin, his eyes unfocused, his lips pursed.

I knock my shoulder against his with a teasing smile. “Come on, big guy. Let’s go. Is your new girlfriend going to be here? I'd love to meet her.” I try for a chuckle, but it comes out strained. “Maybe I’ll even find a dick of my own to ride tonight.”

If anything, Gray’s scowl deepens even further before he forces his expression to smooth over. Well,Ithought I was funny.

He tugs the keys out of the ignition, reaches behind him for his duffel bag, and then jumps out of the truck.