Just One Regret(12)

She’s one of the few women I know who can easily keep sex between the sheets and out of her heart. For her it’s fun and simple and enjoyable.

For me, sex always comes wrapped in strings and emotions. I’ve never been able to separate the two of them, which is why I’m still hesitant to do anything more than kissing with Grayson.

But I know I’ll only be able to hold off for so long. My entire body sparks like a live wire as soon as he touches me.

Which is currently making sitting sandwiched between Grayson and Sarah, in the back of his black SUV, incredibly difficult.

His thigh is pressed against mine and his arm is draped casually over my shoulders. His thumb has been drawing lazy circles on my upper arm, driving me crazy.

I can barely think straight. My panties are damp. And Sarah’s knowing grin when she catches my flushed cheeks isn’t helping.

When the SUV pulls to a stop, Landon and Lynx exit first, flicking the keys to the valet attendant outside.

Landon then opens the back door and Grayson closes his hand around mine, pulling me out of the SUV.

Heat tingles up my arm directly to my chest. I feel wobbly on my heels, my feet aching and needing relief from the torturous devices I spent too much time wearing yesterday. I’m more of a yoga pants and flats kinda girl and last night’s foray into club attire has been out of my element.

But at least I looked decent in the pictures I saw on the tablet this morning.

I still don’t know what to think of them. I don’t know what to think of the fact that my face has been plastered all over every news outlet this morning, and that the big news of last night’s fight isn’t that The Legend won…but that he grabbed a girl from the audience—one sitting behind Mancuso’s corner, of all places—and whisked her to his locker room.

I’m trying to push it out of my mind and not think about it.

I also try to ignore the looks we get as we cross through the entryway of Planet Hollywood’s hotel and casino. I would have imagined no one would notice a small group of friends, but Lynx and Landon are incredibly tall, not to mention well built with wide shoulders. Their expressions are fierce as they lead us through the throng of people. They practically scream security detail.

Sarah and I look like we’re doing the walk of shame in our crumpled clothes and hair that’s been slept on.

And of course, next to me, is Grayson. He’s not as large or tall as the twins, but he carries himself with a confident swagger that would get any woman’s attention.

I watch as many a woman’s face get a glazed over expression as we pass, and then their heads swivel as they continue looking.

“So what are we doing today?” I ask as Lynx pushes the elevator button. I need a shower and a change of clothes desperately. I also need people to stop staring at us.

Lynx grins. Landon stays silent.

Grayson says, “Make sure you dress comfortably.”

I frown. That doesn’t help, but the men are all in athletic pants, simple T-shirts, and running shoes, so casual is definitely on the menu.

Lynx holds the door open while a group of women wearing cocktail dresses, one with a “Bachelorette” sash draped over one shoulder, exit. They sway on their heels for a moment when they catch sight of the men, duck their heads, and giggle as they teeter and totter out of the elevator.

Drunk at ten o’clock in the morning. I cringe at the long day they have ahead of them.

“You’re not going to tell me?” I slink to the back corner, making room for everyone else.

Grayson takes his place next to me. He hasn’t stopped touching me since we got out of the elevator at his hotel, and I’m not complaining. I like his firm grasp around my hand. As if he’s afraid I’ll run away if he lets me go.

“How hurt were you the day I walked away from you?”

My head jerks back. “You’re bringing this up now? In front of our friends?” I can feel my ire rise with every breath I take.

His lips kick up at the edges into a knowing smirk. His thumb brushes across my lips, quickly but softly.

I tremble down to my toes.

“Today’s your day to unleash all that anger on me. With guns and gobs of paint.”

“What?”

Sarah giggles. “I think it means we’re going paintballing.” She jumps on her toes and claps her hands together. “Are we?”

Grayson shrugs. “We’ve had this day off planned since my fight was scheduled. Thought it’d be fun if you joined us. You in?”

For a moment, I’m taken aback. I don’t like guns. They’ve always scared the daylights out of me. But paintball doesn’t sound too bad. I can’t imagine it’d be too harmful or painful.

Plus…I get to shoot Grayson. Smother him in multi-colored paintballs.

I grin. “I’m in.”

He lets go of my hand and I frown until he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me to his side. “Just remember that you’re not pissed at me today. I see that glint in your eye and know how competitive you can be.”

I elbow him in the side.

He feigns an oomph. The way he doesn’t sway at all form the contact tells me he barely felt my jab.

“You’ll have to get bigger muscles than a butterfly if you want to hurt me.”

Across from us, Landon snickers, and I glare at him. “Maybe I’ll take my anger out on you,” I tease.

He laughs harder, doubling over almost in half with one hand resting on his stomach. “You’re cute,” he replies, choking out the words.

“Landon used to be Special Forces in the Army,” Grayson says, leaning down and whispering in my ear. “I’m pretty sure he’s going to try—and succeed—in maiming all of us today.”

I twist my neck, looking directly into his eyes, and smile. “Then perhaps we need to join forces to take him out.”

“Deal.” He sticks his hand out between us and I shake it.

Just as the elevator dings and we begin to file out, Lynx’s phone starts to ring. We pause, and he scowls at whatever number is on his screen.

Next to me, I feel Grayson’s shoulders stiffen.

“I’ll take this. Meet you there in a second.”

Grayson arches a brow, his hand on my waist flinching. “Do I wanna know?”

Lynx flips the phone open and snorts. “Not now.”

As he turns to talk to whoever’s calling, Sarah leads the way to our hotel room. It’s a basic room with two queen beds. The view over the strip and the tub in the massive bathroom are the only impressive things about the room.

Compared to Grayson’s penthouse suite, which is three times larger and a hundred times fancier than my Cambridge apartment at home, I’m only reminded by how different things are for Grayson and I now.

Based on who my parents are, everyone in Braxton always assumed I’d become someone successful and important. That was always my parents’ plan for me, at the very least, until everything changed the summer before my junior year of college.

Instead, I’ve been stuck in a twenty-mile radius of my miserable hometown my whole life, and he’s the one who’s traveled the world.

And for some reason, even though I’ve seen the hundreds of fans he has, have witnessed his rise to UFA fighter celebrity status, he’s still the one who thinks he’s not good enough for me.

If anything, I’m the one who could potentially hold him back.

The thought is depressing, but I try to forget it as Sarah opens the door to our room.

“You guys can come in,” I say hesitantly. Both Landon and Grayson stop at the threshold, their eyes flickering down to where Lynx disappeared.

“We’ll be at the bar,” Landon interjects, giving no room for argument. “Lynx will need to talk to us when he’s done.”

“Fight-related,” Grayson explains. It’s a lie; I can see it instantly in the way he refuses to look directly at me.

I shake my head, trying to shake out the doubt and fears along with my answer. “It’s fine. Go. We won’t take long.”

“Says you!” Sarah shouts, already in the room. From the doorway I can’t see her, but I see clothes flying every which way as she digs through her suitcase.

“Let me see your phone.” Grayson puts out his hand.

I unlock my phone and slide it into his waiting palm. He taps away on my keypad, adding himself as a contact, and then presses send to call his phone. “There. Call me when you’re ready and we’ll meet you back here.”

“We can find you in the bar.”

“I don’t want to bring any more attention to you, and who knows what the hell will happen in a Vegas bar.”

It makes sense, yet a sense of foreboding that I can’t explain falls on my shoulders.

“Fine.” I turn toward the door. “Thirty minutes, probably.”

“Hey.” His hand reaches for mine, and he pulls me back to him.

“What?”

He doesn’t answer. He just presses his lips against mine in a soft but swift kiss. I almost melt into the floor even though he’s only touching my hand and kissing my lips.

I’m in so much trouble.

When he pulls away, his smile is forced—much too plastic to be genuine. “See you soon. And pack a bag for the night so we don’t have to come back here later.”

I still nod in acquiescence, though, and watch the men walk away, disappearing around a corner in the hallway that will take them back to the elevator.