Keeping You (Destined Love #3)

9. Hannah

CHAPTER 9

Hannah

O nce Grayson leaves, I lie in the bath and repeat to myself:

She doesn’t define you.

You are independent.

You are strong.

Her opinion doesn’t matter.

I repeat the four phrases over and over, hoping maybe this time they’ll sink in. For years, I’ve wanted to live up to my mother’s expectations, and every time I’ve fallen short, she’s been sure to let me know. I shouldn’t be surprised she showed up at the hospital to corner me and make sure I go to her birthday celebration, because, after all, it would be a bad look to not have your only daughter there. It’s all about the appearances for her. What I didn’t expect was for Grayson to take over the conversation and introduce himself as my husband and promise we’d be at her party.

The death glare I got from her means I’ll be receiving a call from her later asking why I didn’t tell my only mother I got married. It’s really going to sound like, What am I supposed to tell my friends? How is it going to look when people find out I wasn’t at my only daughter’s wedding? Why are you so selfish? Why must you always make me look so bad?

I plunge myself into the water and hold my breath, hoping that it will wash away this feeling of inadequacy. It doesn’t. I gasp for air as I pull myself out of the water. Heat builds behind my eyes, but I refuse to cry. Not over her. I get out of the bath and pull the plug before wrapping myself in a towel and entering the bedroom. I stare at the bed, wanting to melt into it and feel the cool sheets against my warm skin with nothing between them. I’ve always preferred to sleep in the nude, but ever since Vegas, I’ve slept in pyjamas, knowing this isn’t my bed and Grayson is just down the hall in the living room.

Tonight, I decide fuck it . I drop my towel and climb into the bed fully naked and relish in the feel of the sheets against my skin. I melt into the bed. I’m not sure how, but I somehow manage to fall asleep quite quickly.

I’m extremely groggy when I wake up what feels like an entire day later, but in reality is only ten hours. I grab my robe and secure it around myself before making my way into the living room to grab a glass of water. Grayson is sitting on the couch with a hockey game on and a beer in hand when I enter. He watches me as I grab a glass and fill it from the sink. Despite it being a big playoff game, his eyes never leave me, watching my every move.

“I’m fine,” I say as I place my glass on the counter.

He nods and says, “I was serious. I’ll go with you to your mom’s birthday.”

I want to say no, but I know if I show up without him, I’ll get more flak from my mother, so I nod and say, “Thank you.”

How am I supposed to How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days him if he’s going to continue to be this nice? He’s not making this easy, and it pisses me off, but at the same time, I can’t help but be grateful that he’ll be there on Saturday. I move to sit on the other end of the couch, curling my legs under me as I get comfortable.

“I ordered Chinese food. I figured you’d be hungry when you woke up.”

Just the mention of food has my mouth watering. “I am. Chinese sounds perfect.”

He settles back in the couch, and we watch the game together. He cusses at the refs and adds his own commentary. I have no idea what half of it means, but it makes me smile. He’s so into this, and it’s not even his team playing. From the team initials on the screen, I can tell it’s Edmonton and St. Louis, and from his yelling, I guess he’s cheering for St. Louis.

I want to know why, but I don’t want to ask him, so I pull out my phone and text Olivia.

Han

Why would Grayson be cheering for St. Louis over Edmonton?

Liv

Because any true Cyclones fan hates Edmonton.

Han

Why? They’re a Canadian team.

Liv

Girl, team loyalty. We don’t care if they’re in the same city, province, or country. We don’t cheer for them. The only exception might be against Toronto.

Han

So I should be cheering for Edmonton. Got it.

Liv

I might need to disown you as a friend.

Not really, I love you, but anyone but them.

Han

So Toronto.

Liv

1, that’s just a step too far. That’s a transgression I just can’t support. 2, they didn’t even make it past the first round.

Han

But you said you’d always love me.

Liv

Cheering for Toronto is just unforgiveable, that might be the only thing we couldn’t make it past.

Han

Okay. Fine.

Liv

Good girl.

Han

Don’t get me started

Now I know how to get under Grayson’s skin. We sit and watch the rest of the first period. As intermission ends, the food is delivered and Grayson meets the driver at the front door. The puck is dropped and St. Louis gains possession, then they do what I’ve heard Liv call a turnover. Edmonton takes the puck and has three players making their way toward the St. Louis goal. A cross-ice pass has the puck in the back of the net, and I’m up and cheering. Grayson’s head whips to me as he takes the food from the delivery driver, and I watch as his facial expression sours as he catches the replay on the screen.

He doesn’t say anything. He just sets the food on the coffee table and returns to the kitchen. He comes back with a couple of plates and cutlery, and tucked under his arm are a bottle of wine and a beer. He has a wine glass positioned perfectly upside down with the stem slipped between his fingers under the plates he’s holding. He holds out his hand, and I take the wine glass and plates, setting them on the table as he opens the wine for me and pours a glass before opening his beer. We make our plates and settle back. I continue to cheer for Edmonton, enjoying the sour look on Grayson’s face every time I do.

The game ends 6-4 in Edmonton’s favour.

“That was fun,” I say and I feel Grayson’s assessing gaze on me.

“Since when do you cheer for Edmonton?” he asks.

I gnaw on my lip, holding back the smile that wants to overtake my face. I really want to say since you don’t, but I hold my tongue. “Oh, I just thought I’d have some national spirit and cheer for the Canadian team.”

His eyes narrow, and he nods slightly. He grabs the takeout containers and shakes his head muttering to himself, “I’m married to someone who cheers for fucking Edmonton.”

It takes every bit of me not to break out into uproarious laughter. Who knew cheering for a different team could get this kind of reaction?

I finish my glass of wine and wash my glass before saying, “Thank you for dinner. I’m going to read my book. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Lying in bed, I find the text from my mom with the details of the party on Saturday before grabbing my Kindle and opening my latest book.

Grayson and I both work the night shift the next two days. I’m not sure how we’ve managed to be on the same schedule so much as we didn’t used to be. Both nights he manages to talk himself out of a very instant Samantha’s invite to eat together during their break. Instead, he joins me, making small talk about things of literally no importance. On Saturday, we both manage very short naps before we need to get ready to head to my mom’s for her birthday.

I type my mom’s address into the GPS, and Grayson drives us. My mom and her husband, Richard, live in an upscale residential neighbourhood. The homes are large, and you can tell just from the look of them that the people living inside have money. Each home in this area is worth between three and six million. Richard’s place is on the upper end of that spectrum. He and my mom met and married when I was just leaving home for college when she finished her serial dating phase after her second divorce. I never got to experience the wealth and fancy things she does now, and I would be happy for her if I knew she was in it for more than the money. I don’t think Richard is a bad guy by any means, I just don’t think my mother is capable of loving anyone other than herself.

Grayson finds street parking half a block from their house. Holding a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine, I watch as Grayson gets out of the car, but I can’t seem to follow. I stare out the window, taking a deep breath and holding it. A party with my mother is never my idea of fun. She’s so good at putting on this face to the rest of the world that shows a loving, caring, supportive person, but I know the minute she gets me alone, she’ll find some way to tear me down. It used to be comments about my relationship status, or my body, or the way I presented myself, or talked. I wasn’t the perfect little Barbie doll she wanted.

The passenger door is pulled open, and I turn my head to see Grayson watching me with concern.

“Are you okay?”

I can’t speak, so I just nod.

He reaches for the bottle of wine, taking it from me, and uses his other hand to hold my now-free one. He squeezes it. “I’ll be by your side the entire time. I’ve got you.”

Grayson Maxwell might not be my favourite person in the world, but those words, I’ve got you, bring me comfort and give me the strength I need to get out of the car and make my way to the front door.

Grayson knocks, and I hold my breath, waiting for someone to answer. I let out the breath when Richard answers. He smiles fondly at me and opens the door wider for us to come in.

“It’s so nice to see you, Hannah. I’m glad you could make it.”

I smile at him. “I wouldn’t miss it.” Which is true, if only to avoid the wrath of my mother.

Richard’s eyes dart over my shoulder, and I shuffle from foot to foot and clear my throat. “Richard, this is my husband, Grayson Maxwell. Grayson, this is my mother’s husband, Richard.”

Richard doesn’t look shocked, so my mother must have told him.

Grayson holds his hand out and they shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Rivers.”

“Please call me Richard. We’re family, after all.”

Grayson nods, and his hand comes to the small of my back. It’s a delicate touch, but it’s one that lets me know he’s here for me.

We follow Richard into the living room, where I see my mother entertaining her friends. She’s deep in conversation, but when she spots me, she stops and her show smile spreads across her face. I hate that smile.

“Oh, my darling, you’re here,” she says as she wraps her arms delicately around me.

“Yes, happy birthday, Mom,” I say when she releases me. I hand her the bouquet before grabbing the small, wrapped gift out of my purse and handing it to her. “For you.”

Grayson hands her the bottle of wine, and her smile grows.

“Oh, how thoughtful of you. Thank you, Grayson.”

The smile Grayson gives her is one I’ve never seen before. His eyes don’t crinkle or light up the way they usually do when he smiles. He’s putting on a show. “Oh, the wine isn’t from me, it’s from Hannah. I just carried it for her. I needed her to have a free hand so I could hold it.” Oh, he’s smooth.

“Well, anyway, thank you.”

Of course, my mother thanks my husband for the items I brought her and not me. Why should I have thought anything else would happen?

She excuses herself to the kitchen and then returns with the flowers in a vase and places them in the centre of the coffee table. She leans over to her friend and says, “Just look at these beautiful flowers my son-in-law brought me. Aren’t they gorgeous?”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I feel Grayson move in front of me. When I open my eyes, his fingers come under my chin and tips my head back so I look him in the eyes. He’s checking in on me. His eyes slowly move over my face, taking in every centimetre of it.

I’m okay, I mouth, and after a second, he nods.

We make our way to the corner of the room where food is set up. We each make a plate before moving to mingle. I find the one friend of my mother’s I actually kind of like and join her.

Melody is in her late fifties with pure silver hair. She never dyed it when she started going grey, and she looks stunning. Her hair is pulled back in an elegant bun that sits at the base of her head. Her knee-length plum dress looks amazing on her.

“Oh, Hannah, dear. How are you?” she asks as she wraps me in a hug.

“I’m good, Melody. How are you?”

She waves a hand in front of her. “I’m splendid. Your mother told me you got married recently. You have to tell me all about it.”

I stiffen. I hadn’t planned on saying much to anyone, just that I got married and introduce them to Grayson.

“There’s not much to tell,” Grayson says as he looks down at me. “It was one of those when you know, you know moments, and we just couldn’t give up the opportunity.” The way he says it is like he believes those words.

I give my head a slight shake before smiling back at him then looking at Melody. “We saw the opportunity and jumped head first,” I say.

Melody’s hand comes to her chest. “Oh, that’s so lovely, dear. It was that way with my dear Patrick. We met and married in two weeks, if you can believe it. Married now nearly forty years.”

My chest aches. That’s the kind of love I want. The love you know in your gut is right and will last through everything life throws at you and is still there forty years down the line. I hold my smile in place, trying to push aside the ache.

Grayson’s arm wraps around me and pulls me into his side. I don’t resist.

“You two just look absolutely lovely together. I’m so happy you found someone who makes you happy, dear. You deserve all that life has to offer.” Melody grabs my arm and squeezes before she’s whisked away by another friend.

I will not cry. Even though her words hit home, I will not let anyone here see.

Grayson stays glued to my side as we move around the party talking to people. Everyone asks questions about our marriage and how it happened. My mother’s friends have always been the biggest group of gossips. We keep it simple: we’ve known each other for years, but when our friends started dated, we couldn’t help but grow closer and took advantage of the opportunity in Vegas. Only when I need to use the washroom does Grayson leave me.

As I’m leaving the washroom, my mother corners me and forces me into the kitchen, where there are no guests.

“You owe me an explanation,” she hisses.

“About?”

She rolls her eyes, something she’d never let someone else see her do. “Your marriage, of course. Don’t be daft.”

“I married Grayson while we were in Vegas a few weeks ago.”

She purses her lips. “And why did you get married in Vegas? Why couldn’t you have let me throw you a wedding here? Why did you have to take that away from me?”

“Mother, it was my wedding. I didn’t want a big to-do about it.” If she knew me at all, she’d know that’s a lie. I want the pretty white dress and the friends and family. My dad to walk me down the aisle. The bridesmaids and bouquet toss. The first dance. But of course she doesn’t really know me.

She purses her lips harder, gives me a head-to-toe look, and says, “And what are you wearing? You could have put some effort into yourself today. Your hair looks flat, your eyebrows need to be plucked, your dress needs to be steamed, and could probably be a size bigger, so it wasn’t so tight. You don’t need to flaunt all your assets.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Grayson’s voice cuts across the kitchen.

I turn and see him standing at the entrance to the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest as he gives my mother the nastiest look. If I looked at her like that, I wouldn’t be surprised if she slapped me across the face.

“First of all, it was my idea to get married in Vegas, not hers. She indulged me. Secondly, your daughter is stunning. She just came off working two twelve-hour night shifts and took only a short nap before she got herself ready to be here at your behest. So why don’t you apologize to her, and we’ll be on our way. She needs to rest after the grueling shift she worked last night.”

I’ve never seen Lauren Rivers look as shocked and embarrassed as she does right now, and it brings me great joy. She gives me a very fake apology before Grayson grabs my hand and leads me to the entryway. We say goodbye to Richard before we make our way to the car.

Grayson unlocks it, but instead of opening the door, he starts pacing, anger radiating off him.

“Grayson,” I start, but within seconds he has me trapped against the car, hands on either side of me, caging me in. His chest is heaving as he stares at me.

“Tell me not to. Tell me not to go back in there and give your mother another piece of mind. No one gets to talk to you like that. Ever.”

I’ve never wanted to melt for a man before, but I do right now. My traitorous fucking body. I’m supposed to hate this man.

His body shakes with anger.

I reach up and cup the side of his face. “Grayson, thank you. Thank you for standing up for me.” My thumb strokes his cheek. “Can you please just take me home. I’d like to stuff my face with ice cream, watch a stupid rom-com, and take a nap.”

He stops shaking, and his features soften as he nods.

He reaches behind me and opens the passenger door, helping me in. I let him do the buckle for me before he rounds the car and drives off. He stops at a grocery store and says he’ll be right back. When he comes out fifteen minutes later, his arms are full of bags.

At home, he drops the bags on the kitchen counter and says, “Okay, so we have five different flavours of ice cream, mint chocolate chip, cherry, cookie dough, pralines and cream, and rocky road. Three different types of chips, regular, BBQ, and Doritos. A bottle of wine and some pizza pockets and tater tots. What do you want first?”

I can’t help but smile. “Pizza pockets, tater tots, and a giant glass of wine.”

He grins. “Coming right up. Why don’t you pick a movie and I’ll be right in.”

I settle on the couch, grabbing a throw blanket, and pull up What Women Want . We spend the rest of the day like that. At one point, my feet end up in Grayson’s lap as his thumb works up the instep. He eventually moves up to my calves and works silently as the movie plays. I don’t know when, but I eventually fall asleep.