Rumor(12)

He disconnected with a groan and sank onto the stool again, dropping his head. “Fuck me.”

Kelly’s hand shot up. “Yes!” Grace and Sandy shot Kelly a what-the-hell look, and Kelly gave an impish grin and a little shoulder shrug. “Nikki knows my number if you ever have the urge to offer that up again.”

Josh chuckled. Then turned his head, still resting against his arms. His eyes were clear, sky blue, sleepy, and scanned her face intimately, caressing every surface from her forehead to her chin. “There’s my girl.” His mouth tipped up at the corner. “You look twelve years old again.”

She’d scrubbed off all her makeup, changed into shorts, a T-shirt, and flip-flops, and thrown her hair into a ponytail. Yeah, she’d probably taken a decade off her looks. And the affection in Josh’s eyes when he saw the Grace beneath all the props swelled her heart against her will.

“You didn’t know me when I was twelve,” she said.

“But I saw pictures. Remember when your mom brought your photo albums to the team’s barbecue?” He laughed. “God that was sweet.”

Sandy’s hands worked a towel over a glass, but she was shooting Grace her why-exactly-aren’t-you-jumping-this-guy look.

The past washed in and took every ounce of comfort from the moment. Grace answered Sandy’s silent question with “Long story.”

Customers beckoned, and Sandy and Kelly drifted down the bar again.

“You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” he murmured.

She sighed, running her fingers through his hair. “And you’re even more obnoxious.” He grinned, that sleepy, sloppy grin that made her insides ache. “Shit, what am I going to do with you?”

He lifted his head and propped it on his palm, then curled the other hand around hers. “Talk to me, Gracie.”

Christ, that voice, deep and smoky. Those eyes, bright and intense. He pried her heart open, and Grace felt the year separating them melting away.

“Josh—”

“You sold your town house; you’re living in a dangerous neighborhood. Now you’re working here. What happened to cheer coaching at the high school?”

Just like that, her defenses burned to life. “I’m still coaching. The girls are on winter break. We cut back the training schedule.”

His brow creased. “You’re working both jobs? How long have you been here?”

“Nine months.”

“Jesus, Grace, what does your mom think about you working at a strip club?”

She sighed, the weight of everything he wanted to know wearing on her patience. “I’m too tired to get into this now. Come on.” She pulled on his hand until he stood. “I’ll drop you at a hotel.”

When she tried to take her hand from his, he laced their fingers and let her guide him through the club, following like a puppy. God, he was so drunk. Which was completely out of character for the Josh she’d known—always in control, always sharp, always on.

Theo stood ready to open the door for them. “Want me to call him a cab?”

“I’ll do it, thanks.”

“It’s raining out there…” Theo warned.

“I know.” Grace had seen the rain splashing on the windows in the dressing room, but she didn’t care. She was burning up from the inside out. She could play hot and sexy with the customers all night without getting worked up, but put Josh Marx within eyesight and she felt like she’d burst into flames.

She stepped out into the night and paused under the awning as the club door closed behind them, muffling the music. She took a cleansing breath of the cold, rain-soaked night air, letting some of the stress leak from her shoulders, but an old, familiar ache had settled in her heart.

She pulled her phone from her purse, tapped into the Internet browser, and started searching for hotels nearby.

“Seems like your shoulder healed just like the doctor said it would,” she said absently as a website popped up on her screen.

Josh pulled her around to face him, his gaze deliberate. “Okay, what’s going on here, Grace? No one’s listening. No one’s watching. Talk to me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I think you’re the one who should be telling me what this is about. Why are you suddenly so concerned?”

“Your whole life has changed in a year, and not for the better. If you needed something, why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you tell Beck?”

All the anger and frustration and hurt she’d buried crept in. “First of all, my life might be different, but it’s definitely not worse, and that assumption offends me. Second, why in the hell would I call you for anything after you so completely bailed on our friendship? And third, Isaac was never there for me even when we were married. Why would I think it would be any different now?”