Into You Series: The Complete Collection

36. Grace

CHAPTER 36

GRACE

“ W hen was the last time you were upset? Like, really, really upset?”

“I don’t get upset,” he deadpans.

“Heartless bastard.”

We’re lying in my bed with both dogs, and Cameron is stroking my splayed-out hair on the pillows. We’ve been in this position for what feels like every night for the past few weeks. Cameron kept his promise and continued to keep work separate from our play time. Although, admittedly, we did slip up once. That copier room will never be the same again …

We’ve been talking about everything under the sun. I want to know about his childhood, what sports he played, when he first masturbated … I want to know everything. I need to know how he ticks.

“Well other than Abby,” he starts, making my heart sink. He rubs my shoulder, and it instantly calms me. “I guess I was upset when my parents split.”

“I didn’t know you were a divorce baby,” I say.

He chuckles. “That almost makes it sound sweet.”

“I’m willing to bet it wasn’t.”

“Of course not. Are your parents still together?”

My stomach clenches. “They never got divorced.”

I curl closer to him, and he grips my waist, loosening his grip after a moment or two.

“Wait—let me guess your life,” he continues. “Dog by the fireplace? Cookies in the oven? Parents holding hands and reading a book as you color with crayons on the floor?”

“Sweet potato fries in the oven, but close.”

My childhood was picturesque. My parents were soulmates. And I want that. I’ve been looking forward to marriage my whole life—not for the sake of it, but for the companionship. To reach the same happiness my parents had.

“ Of course you had a great childhood.”

“Well, you don’t have to be bitter about it,” I say, tugging his hair as he tugs mine back.

“I don’t believe that type of happiness exists,” he says, giving a slight shrug as I balk at him.

“Come on, seriously? Of course it does.”

“Nah, nothing lasts,” he says. “You’re telling me your parents are still madly in love after all this time?”

My nerves light on fire. I give a weak smile. I never like discussing this. But I bite the bullet anyway.

“My dad died a few years ago,” I say.

His eyes widen. “Oh.” He looks away from me and repeats himself. “Oh.”

“That’s it?” I tease, trying to breathe normally and snuggle my nose against his shoulder to lighten the mood. “No condolences?”

Cameron turns to me as he goes back to stroking my head. “I’m so sorry. How?”

“Side street. Mugging. The usual suspects.”

“Don’t let that lessen it.”

“I don’t,” I say. “It hurt for a while. My mom was barely holding it together. I think Joe gave her hope.”

Cameron’s eyes give him away. His attempt at concealing a cringe at the mention of my ex fails, but I continue.

“It was supposed to be my chance at a love she lost. But a lot of good that did.”

“And Joe?” Cameron asks, opening it to anything I want to share. But what is there to say? He was nothing like my father, and yet I wanted everything from him? I expected too much?

“I found a dating app on his phone,” I say. “He cheated. Ultimately, it wouldn’t have mattered, though. He didn’t want marriage. We always fought. Once again, the usual suspects.”

Cameron glares, kissing me on the forehead. I wonder if he’s angry with Joe.

“I’m sorry, Holmes,” he says.

“Now there’s the sorrow I wanted,” I giggle.

He turns to me with a smirk and tickles under my chin. I embrace the butterflies swooping through my chest and let them overtake me. When I close my eyes, I wonder if the stars I see are just my imagination or the hope pounding through.

I hear a whine from one of the dogs at the end of the bed, followed by a bark.

“Hank probably thinks I’m hurting you,” Cameron chuckles. I open my eyes again when I feel him bend down to scratch Hank behind the ear. The old boy lets out a low huff in response, but drifts back off to sleep once he sees me smiling like a fool.

“You’re so good with Hank,” I tell him.

“When you have a dog like Buddy, it’s easy to love the calm ones.”

“Why Buddy?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

“The name,” I say. “It seems so cliché for a dog name.”

“How dare you,” he gasps in mock offense. “Buddy was my first friend after my quarter-life crisis. Sure, that crisis included a lot of nineties movies, but Buddy is proudly named after a basketball champion.” At his name, Buddy’s head jerks up, instantly awake. Cameron pats him on the head and he falls back asleep just as easily as Hank did.

“Oh, tell me you’re joking. Air Bud , seriously?”

“You know,” Cameron says, “You’re a lot more of a jerk once you get to know you. You’re, wait—hey!” He laughs as I punch him in the arm. He lifts his free hand and allows my fist to beat into his hand.

“I may be a jerk, but I’m a competent one.”

He blows out air with a smirk. “Yeah right.”

“Come on,” I say. “Admit it. I’m right most of the time at work. Like, seventy percent.”

“Pssht, thirty,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Seventy.”

“Sixty.”

“One hundred.”

He pauses then laughs. “You’re not letting up this time, are you?”

“I want your job one day,” I say, not stopping myself before wiggling my eyebrows up and down. “And I’m gonna get it.”

He snorts. “Not if we get caught first.”

The sentence punches me in the gut, but I try not to let it show. I keep forcing myself to forget the position we’re in. I want to enjoy these moments we have.

I like this, but I also like—no, love—my career. The little spot I’ve created for myself has been a product of my hard work and gumption. Having all of that work taken away is the last thing I want.

My eyes trail to him and he stares off into space as well, his jawline tightening and his eyes steady, focused on whatever he’s stewing in his mind. I feel a wave of nerves wash over me. It’s like something is off, but I can’t put my finger on what.

“Do you like your job?” I ask, and he turns back to me. His mouth contorts a bit as he thinks then shrugs.

“I guess not,” he says, no signs of remorse.

“Do you not want something more?” I ask. “What about architecture?”

“Let’s talk about something else. Big life decisions aren’t really my thing.”

Big life decisions are my thing through and through. I thrive on the idea that if something isn’t enough, I refuse to be okay with it. I enjoy the excitement when you know the choices made were the correct ones. I like the roller coaster rides that come with something new.

“Don’t you want a future?” I ask.

“Who even knows what that is?” he asks, staring at me. “It’s too vague. I prefer to not think about it at all.”

I wonder if I’m prepared for this roller coaster. I wonder if he is.