Page 65 of Praised
“How can I help him see it?” I asked, ignoring Grayson’s barb.
“I’ll talk to him.”
Archie and I both snapped our necks turning toward Grayson.
“You’ll what?” we both asked.
“I’ll talk to him,” he said again, looking smug.
“That’s the opposite of a solution.”
“You can send Owen if you’d rather,” Grayson suggested.
“Or I can send no one. My end goal is that Rose wants to be with me. Not that he runs screaming for the hills.”
I finished the rest of my drink and pushed the chair back from the table, needing space. I found some in the living room, but Grayson was quick to follow, coming to sit beside me on the ottoman. With his legs bent at the knee, his khakis hiked up enough to expose his bare ankles, and his white sneakers were so clean it looked as if they’d never even set foot on asphalt. I couldn’t imagine a world where Grayson would be able to plead my case more effectively than I could.
“I can talk to him myself,” I said, sounding disgruntled.
“Of course you can,” he agreed, smacking my arm with his elbow. “But you have friends who care about you. Who want to see you happy.”
“Are we friends now?”
He pressed a hand to the center of his chest, feigning insult. “All I’m saying is, sometimes a fresh perspective helps.”
“Is that what made you come around?” I asked him, thinking back to the tumultuous beginnings of his relationship with Rob.
“Your other friend and I both had some work to do,” he said. “But to your point, yes. I did have someone talk me through it.”
I exhaled, thinking of all the ways I wanted to talk Rose through it. My face must have showed the thought process because Grayson made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and kicked me.
“Head in the gutter,” he said, “Another Trophy Dom trait.”
“Again, you’re more like us than you think.”
“That’s offensive.” Grayson stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles.
Out of the thousand ideas I’d had over the last two days about how to backtrack my commitment without Rose worrying that I wasn’t reliable, none of them felt workable. It would be easier, I wagered, if I was a man like Rob or Dalton. Far more dominant in the expectations of their partners than I’d ever been. Not that Dalton had ever had a partner. But Rob…
I glanced at Grayson and took him in, really took him in for maybe the very first time. He was younger than me, younger than all of us, but he carried himself with all of the confidence and surety we’d spent decades gathering on our own. He was a stubborn man who knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t scared of doing the work to get it, even if that work took him out of his comfort zone.
I’d done the same with Rose, with my initial concessions all the way to my thirty-day agreement. That wasn’t the kind of person I’d ever been. I didn’t compromise. I was generous in the bedroom and in the places that it counted, but when it came to my own wants and needs, I was as selfish as they came.
Or so I’d thought.
“What would you say to him?” I finally asked, shoulders sagging under the weight of the question.
“Like I’d ever tell you.” He scoffed and stood, fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt.
This was out of character for me, but Rose had me out of my head. I couldn’t think straight when he was around and it was even worse when he was gone. It didn’t feel egregious to ask for help. The last thing I wanted to do was scare Rose away, though, and Grayson was as formidable a personality as me.
“I like him, Grayson.” I propped my elbows on my knees and looked up at him, hoping he could see the truth of it in my face. But maybe also hoping he saw the lie because I didn’tjustlike Rose.
“Just tell me where to find him, Galloway. I’ll take care of the rest.”
CHAPTER22
ROSE
