Tell Me It’s Right (Sweetspire #1)

Chapter 38

Chapter Thirty-Eight

GRACIE

I feel a little bit like a creep. Liam sleeps peacefully on his back, even once the sun starts streaming through the windows. No matter how hot it got in the night, we stayed wrapped around each other, but the duvet and sheets ended up shoved to the bottom of the bed, leaving Liam in only his boxers and me in his T-shirt.

Now I can’t stop staring at him. I think my mouth is watering.

His lean build is so…deceptive. I could feel how strong he is around me last night, but I didn’t fully realize until now that I can see it too. My eyes trace every strong line of his body—the subtle outline of his muscles, the intricate patchwork of designs covering his skin. I’ve never gotten to see them all and really take them in. There’s so much to look at. I don’t know much about tattoos, but some are more faded, the lines less crisp, which leads me to believe they’re older. He’s clearly not a fan of color—they’re all black, at least from what I can see.

He makes a sound low in his throat as his head turns toward me on the pillow. He doesn’t open his eyes, but his lips curl, and I know I’ve been caught.

“Come here,” he murmurs.

I inch forward to tuck myself beneath his arm.

“Closer.”

I press a little harder against him until there’s no room left between us.

“Closer.”

I snort, then throw a leg over his hips and roll until I’m straddling him.

That gets his eyes open. He grips my thighs, and the wolfish grin on his face softens as his gaze meets mine. Slowly, he trails his hand up my hip, over my ribs, and into my hair. No matter how many times I feel his skin against mine, it sparks heat through me like it’s the first time. He sits up enough to let his lips brush mine as he says, “This is dangerous.”

“Why is that?” I whisper.

He pulls my mouth down to his, and a small whimper escapes me as he kisses me slowly, deeply. When he pulls away, he says, “Because I like having you in my bed far too much to let you sleep anywhere else now.”

“Are you telling me you’re kidnapping me?”

He nods and ducks his head to kiss my shoulder.

I push against him until he’s on his back again. His chest rises faster with his breath, and the heat in his gaze as he looks up at me has my stomach tightening. I trail my fingertips over his skin, starting at his hips, gliding over his abs, his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos.

“You couldn’t have done these all yourself.”

“No, anything I couldn’t reach easily, someone else did.”

I tilt my head. “Did you do your first one, or did someone else?”

He mirrors my movements, his hands skating along my legs. “Someone else.”

“Which one was it?”

He curls his fingers around mine, then drags my hand up and places it on the inside of his left biceps. There are a few tattoos there, but in the center is a single stemmed flower. There’s something almost delicate about it compared to the rest. It’s hidden against his body when his arms are down, so I’ve never noticed it before.

I lean in closer, taking in the thinner lines, the detail in the shading. It’s much more faded than the ones around it.

“What kind of flower is it?”

He hesitates a moment before saying, “Water lily.”

Lily . His mother’s name.

I trace my fingers over it, then meet his eyes. “For your mom?”

He smiles softly. “Got it a week after the accident.”

“It’s beautiful.” I feel his gaze on my face as I go back to exploring. There doesn’t seem to be much rhyme or reason to most of them—a snake, an olive branch, a constellation. “Which one is the first one you did?”

“Above my right knee.”

I scoot down to see. “Oh, the butterfly?”

He laughs as I lean in to inspect it. “Don’t look too closely at it.”

“Why? It looks great to me.”

The bed shifts as he sits up. One hand rests between my shoulder blades as the other points to the edges of the tattoo. “See how it’s kind of blurry? The lines aren’t that clear? It’s blown out. Went too deep.”

I hum. Now that he pointed it out, I see what he’s saying, but I never would have noticed it on my own. “You designed all of them though, didn’t you? Even the ones you didn’t tattoo yourself?”

He nods.

I smile, shaking my head.

“What?”

I throw my hands up. “That’s so cool .” I go back to inspecting the ones along his thighs. “You’re so talented.” I glance at him when he doesn’t respond, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he looked a little red.

I climb onto his lap again and take his face between my hands. That finally gets him to smile, and he leans down to press a kiss to my collarbones.

“You think you’ll ever get one?” he murmurs against my skin.

“I don’t know. I’m kind of afraid of how much it would hurt.”

“You’d be fine.” He kisses my throat. “You’re tough.” My jaw. “If you did get one, would you let me do it?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t trust it with anyone else.”

He beams like a kid opening a Christmas gift, and I laugh. “If I got one, where do you think I should put it?”

He hums like he’s thinking about it, tightens his arms around my waist, then flips me onto my back. I let out a breathy laugh as he pushes my shirt up to my stomach, then leans in and presses his lips to the dip inside my hipbone.

“Maybe here,” he murmurs. Slowly, he trails his mouth up my stomach until he presses his lips to my ribs right beneath my breast. I shiver as his breath ghosts across my skin. “Or here.” He links his fingers with mine, then lifts my arm so he can kiss the inside of my wrist. “Or here.” He finds the spot beneath my elbow next. “Here.”

I squirm against the bed, my breaths coming in fast now. I know he notices, but he just continues his leisurely perusal of my body, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to each new spot he finds—below my collarbone, inside my ankle, the outside of my forearm. Finally, he finds his way back to my mouth, but the kiss is brief, sweet, not what every cell in my body is screaming for right now.

His eyes flick between mine. “How are you feeling?”

My eyebrows pull together.

“About last night,” he adds.

“Good,” I say, my voice quiet and small, but I force myself not to look away, even as I feel my cheeks heat.

“No regrets?”

Regrets? “Of course not. Do you…?”

“Not at all.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “I just wanted to make sure. Are you okay? You sore at all?”

“A little,” I admit. “But I’m fine.”

“Can I make you breakfast?”

I nod, trying not to let my disappointment that he’s getting up show on my face. Especially now that he has my body wound far too tightly for comfort.

He presses one last kiss to the top of my head before rolling himself out of bed. But he doesn’t move toward the kitchen. He turns back to me, grabs my legs, and pulls me to the edge of the bed.

“Liam—”

“Hope you don’t mind if I have mine first.” The last thing I see before he lowers to his knees is his wolfish grin, then his face disappears between my legs.

“Do you want me to come in with you?”

I look from Liam’s thumb tracing circles on my hand to his face. A small voice in the back of my head screams yes , but only because I don’t want to say goodbye to him yet.

But logically, I know this is something I have to do on my own. And this is only the first stop on the apology tour today.

I kiss him on the cheek and unbuckle my seat belt. “I’ve got this.”

He doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he lets me go.

“Call me later and tell me how it goes?” he says as I hop out.

I nod and head for the house before I can think too much about it. My new car sits in the driveway, so Leo or Keava must have brought it back for me.

It’s quiet when I walk through the front door, and at first I think no one’s home. But as I head for the basement stairs, I catch sight of someone sitting at the kitchen table. My steps slow. I know he heard me come in, but he doesn’t turn. I resist the urge to hide in my room and head toward him.

Leo’s sitting alone with an untouched cup of coffee in front of him, his arms braced on the table. It isn’t until I take the chair beside him that he finally looks up.

“Can we talk?” I ask.

The bags under his eyes are dark, like he barely slept, and my chest pinches.

“I’m sorry about last night,” I continue when he doesn’t say anything. “I don’t want to fight with you, Leo.”

“We’re not fighting,” he says quietly.

“Then what are we doing? You can barely look at me.”

“Because you’re wearing my best friend’s clothes,” he says with a flick of his wrist.

He takes in the hoodie and matching sweats, and the lines around his mouth deepen. I grimace. I’m not sure what would have been worse—showing up in Liam’s clothes like this or still wearing last night’s dress.

I sigh and wind my fingers together. “I’m really sorry that this is how you found out. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. Don’t blame Liam for the not-telling-you part—that was my fault. I—I didn’t expect this to be that big of a deal.”

He lets out something between a scoff and a laugh. “Gracie.” He exhales slowly and closes his eyes. “You see the best in people. I admire that. But what you have to understand is, Liam is not what you’re looking for?—”

“You don’t know that.”

He laughs again, nothing about it sounding amused. “Yeah, actually, I do. I know everything about him, which is exactly the problem.”

“You don’t,” I say quietly. “You don’t know everything. And that’s the problem.”

He opens his mouth, closes it.

“Make me understand. Why are you so against this?”

“Gracie, you should’ve seen the trainwreck his last relationship was. You were too young to really understand all the details?—”

I scoff. “Don’t do that.”

“What? You were! You were twelve when they started dating. And I don’t want that for you. Especially for your first relationship. I don’t want you to think that’s what it’s like. I don’t know what it is when it comes to girls, but Liam self-sabotages. I’ve never seen him in something healthy.”

I don’t want you to think that’s what it’s like . It’s so eerily similar to something Liam said that it makes me shiver. But it also makes my heart ache. For Liam. Because that was his first relationship, and what Leo’s so afraid of for me is exactly what he went through.

“Have you ever considered there’s more to his side of the story?”

He frowns but says nothing.

“This isn’t going away.” I push up from the table. “I love you, Leo. I’m grateful that you’re trying to look out for me. But I’m not going to stop seeing him. And I hope you can come to accept that. For me, but also for him. He’s your best friend, for Christ’s sake. You know he’s a good person. Can’t you give him a little more credit?”

More anger seeps into my words than I’d been intending, but the more I think about it, the angrier I get. Leo’s his best friend. They’ve known each other for most of their lives. Liam has had no one to talk to about everything he’s been through, and no wonder he didn’t feel like he could go to Leo if Leo was going to be as judgmental as this.

Leo’s eyebrows lower in confusion.

“Talk to him, Leo,” I call as I head for the stairs. “Make this right.”

“Where are you going?”

“On tour!”

The girls are staying at Mom and Dad’s house in my old bedroom and the guest room. I feel even worse than I already did when I show up and realize there’s an extra air mattress set out, like they were expecting me to sleep over with them.

Last night was one of the best nights of my life.

And it was one of the most selfish, thoughtless things I’ve ever done.

Everyone’s already awake and finished with breakfast—pancakes, courtesy of Mom—when I show up. I cringe at the thought of whoever filled my parents in when they got back last night.

Oh, Gracie? The guest of honor? The entire reason we’re all here? She ditched us to be with her boyfriend. Who happens to be Leo’s best friend. Who she didn’t tell anyone about. Also, she’s a big lying liar who lied about everything she’s been up to this summer.

Mom smiles at me from the kitchen as she loads the dishwasher, and laughter pulls my attention outside. My friends are huddled together with cups of coffee in the seating that was set up for the movie last night. Carson’s still here too, nestled in close to the others as if she’s been part of the group all along. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised they all hit it off.

“There’s some leftovers, if you want some,” offers Mom.

“I’m not hungry. Here, let me help with those.” I reach for the remaining dirty plates, but she waves me off.

“I think you have something more important to take care of.” She raises her eyebrows and looks pointedly at the sliding door.

I wince. “What did you hear?”

“Enough,” she says lightly. “Are you all right?”

I nod.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I grimace. “I just saw Leo.”

She adds another plate to the dishwasher. “He’ll come around. You know how he is.”

My eyes flick between hers. “So you don’t agree with him? That this is a bad idea? Me and Liam.”

She shrugs. “I think you’re old enough to make that choice for yourself.” A small smile grows on her face. “Can’t say I’m that surprised. Now, those girls came a long way to celebrate you. I think you should be spending your time talking to them, not me.”

My throat tightens. “I know.”

She grabs my wrist before I can leave. “I’m happy for you, sweetheart. But you can’t let the rest of your life disappear for a relationship. You can’t let that be the only thing that matters.”

I nod, kind of wishing she’d yell instead of this kind, calm voice she’s using. The anger would be a lot easier to take than the clear disappointment in her eyes.

The girls all look up as I step onto the deck.

Marti’s the first to speak. She offers a sleepy smile and lifts her coffee in the air. “She’s returned!”

Bless Marti. Leave it to her to always break the ice.

Carson waves, but the others, unfortunately, don’t look nearly as forgiving.

“Everything okay?” asks Trish.

Dad brought out the nice outdoor furniture—arranging the larger wicker couch and love seat together to form an L around the projector screen. All four girls are huddled together on the bigger couch beneath a blanket, so I take the love seat.

“I’m the worst,” I say.

Alison’s eyebrows lift as if in agreement.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for taking off like that. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay,” says Marti with a shrug, but it looks forced, even for her. “Bummed we didn’t get to do the cake though. Your mom saved it in case you wanted to do it today instead.”

I don’t know why this detail over everything else has tears springing to my eyes.

The icy exteriors over Trish’s and Alison’s expressions crack.

“Oh, come here.” Trish scoots closer to Alison in the middle and holds open the end of the blanket.

“I’m really sorry,” I say as I slide in beside her. “I don’t know how yet, but I’m going to make it up to you.”

Trish lets out a long breath. “I suppose we’ve all done stupid things for boys.”

“Not me,” says Alison.

“We didn’t see you the entire first three months you dated Josh,” Marti reminds her.

She grimaces.

I’d nearly forgotten that was his name. We all just called him Senior Douche.

Trish holds up a hand. “I can forgive the running off into the sunset with hot skater boy. It’s your birthday. You get one free pass. What I want to know is what’s really been going on with you this summer. Why did you lie to us?”

“I was embarrassed,” I whisper.

“What?” says Marti. “Why?”

My eyes bulge. “ Why? Because you three all have your lives so figured out. You made transitioning out of college look like a piece of cake, and I fell flat on my face. I just…I was hoping I’d get things a little more together by the time I saw you guys again.”

Trish screws her face up. “I, for one, do not have my life figured out.”

Marti all but cackles. “I’m an unemployed actor whose career peaked when she was seven! I have three roommates in a two-bedroom house!”

Alison shrugs. “My job isn’t remotely related to my degree, and my parents still pay all my bills.”

“So you ended up moving back home,” says Marti. “So what? Doesn’t seem so bad here. I like it.”

“And your new job obviously comes with…perks.” Alison wiggles her eyebrows.

I whip around to Carson, who gives me a sheepish shrug. “I filled them in a bit.”

“Sorry for spilling the beans in front of everyone last night,” Alison adds. “You know I’m not the best at picking up subtle hints.”

“Stop being so nice to me.” I cover my face with my hands. “Yell or something.”

“ I’d rather get all the dirty details about what happened after you left last night,” says Marti.

“That argument was kind of hot, not gonna lie,” mutters Alison. “‘ I’m in love with her! ’”

I scowl at her imitation of Liam’s voice.

“Puh-lease tell me there was at least some fooling around after that,” she continues. “Even if it was only PG-13.”

“It wasn’t PG-13,” I say before I can think better of it.

All four of their jaws drop.

Marti squeals, grabs Trish’s hand, and shakes it.

“Look at that blush!” Carson points at my face.

“Is it true? Can it be?” Alison grabs my cheeks between her thumb and pointer finger and twists my face this way and that. “Are you…a woman ?”

“Oh, shut up.” I wave her off, but I can’t help the stupid smile on my face.

“No, no! Don’t shut down on us now!” whines Trish. “I need more. How was it? He looks like he’d be good at it. Did you…?” She makes a clicking sound with the side of her mouth.

“We are at my parents’ house,” I whisper-scream. “You guys are all wildly inappropriate.”

Trish grins. “So that’s a yes.”

Marti lets out a wistful sigh. “I can’t believe you never told us how hot he was. How did you grow up around that and not jump him the second you hit puberty?”

Alison’s grin turns downright diabolical. “Did he talk you through it? Reenact your books for you?”

I slap her on the arm. “Okay, okay. Enough.”

Thank God I didn’t let Liam come with me for this conversation.

“Nope,” chirps Alison. “This is your punishment for leaving us.”

Carson nods seriously. “We get to give you a hard time for the rest of the day.”

“Orrr you can be generous and share the details with us,” offers Marti, complete with hands folded beneath her chin and batting eyelashes.

I pinch the bridge of my nose with two fingers. “Fine. But that means we’re breaking out the cake for breakfast.”

Driving the girls to the airport a few days later is bittersweet. They stayed another two nights after my birthday, and I slept at my parents’ house to hang out with them. A marathon sleepover like that is no easy feat for my poor introvert heart, even with people I love. But as I park beside the terminal and climb out to help get their suitcases from the truck, my eyes inevitably fill with tears.

“None of that!” Marti waves a hand in front of her face, her own eyes glassy, then pulls me into a hug. “We’ll see each other at Christmas.”

“Whoop!” Alison pumps a fist in the air. “Girls’ trip!”

“Don’t forget.” Trish points at me.

“I won’t. I promise.” I set the last of their suitcases on the curb and all but hold my breath to keep from crying as I give them each one last hug.

“FaceTime date next weekend?” says Trish.

“Absolutely.”

I wave as they head inside, then let the tears fall as I climb into the car. The silence feels so much emptier in their absence.

I hesitate before shifting the car into drive, trying to collect myself. I don’t know why my emotions are going haywire. I’ll miss them, sure, but I think my body is just confused now. Being around them made me feel like I was still in college, and now I have to snap back to reality.

A reality that’s not all bad, but it’s so far from where I want to be. This temporary situation with Leo has already stretched on for months. If I’m not careful, I might blink and find a lot more time than that has passed.