Wound Up(32)

                “Gretchen picked us up after you called.” Meg laid her hand over Grace’s, stilling the destructive habit. “This is the last time we’ll all be together, so we thought we’d tackle this crisis as a group.”

                “I wanted to give your phone back, anyway.” Digging the iPhone out of her bag, she slid it across the table to Gretchen, dismayed to realize her finger was bleeding. “Damn it.” She sucked on the little wound and found it impossible to raise her eyes.

                Gretch bumped her knee against Grace’s leg. “We want to help.”

                “I get that.” She blew out a breath. “I do. It’s just a little raw.” A second shiver wracked her. “I should probably have just taken the bus home.”

                Ignoring the last sentiment, Gretchen asked, “You cold?” She shrugged out of her jacket and draped it around Grace’s shoulders, ever the maternal figure of the four of them.

                Grace closed her eyes and took a deep breath before lifting her face and offering her friend a small smile. “A little, thanks.” She wrapped the jacket tight, closing her eyes for a second.

                What hurt the most was the fact she’d believed, even momentarily, that she’d meant something to Justin, been someone more than a passing fascination. He’d disabused her of that notion, that was for sure.

                Lynn leaned close and rubbed one hand up and down Grace’s arm. “You have to share details so we know whether to exalt him or duct tape him to a tree and deface any bare skin with permanent marker.”

                Grace tried not to smile and lost the battle. “You scare me a little.”

                “He’s a stripper. Going up on stage with ‘I suck in bed’ and ‘I smell like ass’ written all over him in broad, black pen strokes won’t make him any money.” She sniffed. “And if that’s not enough, just give me a few minutes. I’ll come up with worse.”

                This time Grace did laugh. “No. Nothing worse.” Winding her hands together, she fought the urge to blurt everything out, to tell them how much she’d felt cherished when she was with him, that he’d made her feel sexy, powerful and desirable in a way she never had before, and how much that mean to her. Yet when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

                “Grace?”

                She looked up to find Gretchen’s brows drawn. “Yeah?”

                “I’m sure you don’t need me to say this, but humor me, anyway. You shouldn’t get involved with someone right now. Not seriously, anyway. You’ve got plans, sweetie. Dreams. Big dreams that don’t involve Seattle or your childhood house or your mother’s influence. You’ve fought so hard to be able to tell her to go to hell as you ride off into the sunset. Getting tied up with a stripper is going to mess that up”

                “I know.” Two words, so raw they scraped at her throat. She reached over and took Gretchen’s hand. “You’re right. Thank you for caring enough to say it out loud.”

                Lynn leaned her forearms on the table. “Okay, but he is a stripper. Surely you had some fun?”

                Glancing at Lynn, she managed to smile. “Here’s the deal. I’ll give you one detail and then you let me sort out the rest before you grill me. Agreed?” She glanced from face to face.

                “Agreed,” Meg answered for the group.

                Grace found it easier to smile than she would have thought. “He kisses like a mad god. Better than anything even you can imagine, Lynn.”