Jo returns from the bathroom, spine straight, chin lifted, and in the cutest pink pajama set I’ve ever seen. She looks as determined as ever… meaning fucking adorable. I want to see more of her, not the Jo who’s filled with pain. She sets the bag down on her side of the bed and starts rolling up something. I sit up a little. A blanket?
“What are you doing? I won’t steal the covers from you, I promise.”
She huffs and continues her task.
I watch because I really don’t know what’s happening. My eyes shift back to Grant, and he just shakes his head; clearly, he’s amused. I don’t get it.
When I look back at Jo, it becomes obvious. She’s made a blanket wall between her and me. Like that’s going to protect her from me. A six-foot-one, built man with a potential weapon between his legs.
Fuck, she’s cute when she’s got her mind set on something. My dick perks up, wanting to bust that barrier down, but she’s not ready for that.
I still can’t figure out why she hasn’t been with anyone in eight years. She’s smart, fiery, and gorgeous. Not to mention the most accident-prone woman I’ve ever met.
And right now, she’s crawling into our bed. No kissing. No touching. No sex. It’s really a first for Grant and me. But I’ll do anything to help her.
That letter creeps back into my head. There’s a lot of pain there. I can’t help but think it’s related to why she hasn’t been with anyone. My mind also remembers how good that stolen kiss was… complete.
Grant leans down to kiss her forehead, “Goodnight, Jolee.”
My heart melts as he turns out the lights and comes to cuddle next to me for the night.
9
Jolee
I stretch as I wake up. Rested. I feel warm and relaxed. Something I need more of, except I’m not home. My eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. Their room.
Ugh. How could I forget that I’m not at my apartment… again. Probably because I slept like the dead. Really, a miracle with everything going on in my life. I know it’s this house—these men—that are doing something to me. I just have to decide if I can accept it, maybe even like it.
I check, and the rolled-up blanket is still intact. Well, he didn’t try anything at least. Would I even know? I’d wake up right? He doesn’t seem like a guy who tries things without permission.
My eyes risk a glance over, they’re still sleeping. Entwined in each other. I swear they went to bed with sweatpants on, though. I drink in the sight of Clay’s black boxers hugging his ass and try to avoid seeing Grant’s hand there, holding him. The shine of his wedding band catches my attention.
Time to get up.
I need coffee and a dose of reality if I can find it. I need to figure out what I’m doing. Quietly, I leave the bed and head down the hall towards the kitchen.
The house is quiet except for the coffee brewing. It’s a different kind of quiet than my apartment. It doesn’t feel cold or lonely. When have I ever thought about being lonely? Probably more times than I’d admit to myself.
I grab the cup of coffee, add sugar, and creamer. I like it sweet. Then I settle at the kitchen counter.
My mind is in an eerie calm. I really don’t know what to make of it. I’m not overthinking for once, but it feels blank almost. I sip the hot coffee, letting it warm me up. I look around, and my gaze settles on the calendar. There’s something about the day circled on there.
Shit. What day is it?
I get up and hobble over. I feel a slight twinge in my ankle because I haven’t put my stupid boot on. It has to be almost healed.
It’s Friday, oh damn. How could I forget Star’s wedding? I haven’t missed it, thankfully. But I have to go. I’d feel like the absolute worst person on earth if I didn’t. What kind of personal assistant and friend doesn’t go? A shitty one. I won’t be that person.
Footsteps and voices echo down the hall, alerting me that they’re awake. A new plan is forming, and one to get me back to my apartment.
“Good morning, Jo. You sleep, okay?” Grant and Clay enter the kitchen, practically hand in hand. It’s sweet. I’m not sure I’ve seen another couple in love like they are. I ignore the extra beats in my heart.
“Yes, I did. But I need to go back to my apartment today.”
“Why?” They both say in unison.
“Star’s wedding is tomorrow, and I can’t miss it.” I straighten my posture, “No. I won’t miss it.” There. That sounded more confident. Right? God, I feel stupid. This should be easy. I’m a grown-ass woman, and I can leave when I want to. But I didn’t exactly get here on my own.