Immoral by Nicole Dykes

I’m fucking crippledby his words earlier. Talk about everything. Everything—as in, Hey this was fun and all, but I think I’m going back to chicks?

Fuck.

We’ve avoided each other most of the day, which was fairly easy with it being a big house. Grady spent most of the day out by the pool while I spent mine in the gym, trying to work out my frustration.

It’s not working.

I know I need to face him and just get it over with. I find him downstairs in the music room, the sound of the guitar leading me there.

I freeze in the doorway, knowing the song instantly. It’s a newer one, released a few months ago.

The words send a tremor through me, leaving me motionless as I listen to the acoustic live version in my basement.

Are you out there?

Are you free?

Or are you trapped like me?

Can you go about living your life?

Or are you like I am?

Stuck in this hellish wonderland . . .

The lyrics repeat again, but then he looks up and sees me, his fingers and voice halting. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I say dumbly, still boneless and unmoving. When I heard the song for the first time I was stunned stupid. I listened to it one more time and then never again. I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t let myself hope that it meant so much more than just a hit song.

That he wrote it about me.

Finally, I find my voice again. “Are you ready for that talk yet?”

He puts the guitar down and nods as I approach him on the couch he’s sitting on. “Why the hell are you freaking out about talking?” He looks hurt, and I hate that I avoided him all day.

“Look, just say it. Okay?” I sit next to him. “Say that this was fun, but you don’t want it to go any further.”

“What?” His brow wrinkles in confusion. “That’s what you thought I meant by talking about everything?”

“What else could it be?”

“Our careers. How the fuck we can do this when we both travel a shitload. How we can make it work.”

It. Work.

As in a relationship. I’m fucking frozen yet again. “It?”

He sighs, frustrated with me and maybe a little hurt? “It. Us. Whatever the fuck you want to call it.”

Holy shit, there’s an us.

“You want there to be an us?”

He turns to look straight at me and then places his hand on the side of my face, preventing me from looking away. “There was always an us.”

Holy. Shit.“Grady . . .”

“What? You don’t want that? If not, tell me now.”

“Of course, I do. But you’re . . .” He moves his hand over my mouth and shakes his head firmly.

“We’re way past me being straight, considering your tongue was in my ass last night, and I fucking loved it.”

I gulp. Actually gulp. Shocked and turned the fuck on. Elated by his words. He removes his hand from my mouth, and I nod. “Okay.”

“Okay. This isn’t a phase. I have no idea what sexuality I am. and I don’t fucking care. I’m in this. I like what we’ve done, and I want more. But we can’t deny it’ll have an impact on our careers.”

“You sound more like me than you right now.”

He grins, leaning back into the couch and relaxing. “Look, you know me. I jump into everything, usually without a thought, but things that matter . . .” His eyes meet mine with so much sincerity in them, I nearly choke on the emotion. “There has only ever been music and you . . . So, those things . . . I put effort into them. I make them work. And I want this to work.”

“I do too, Grady.” God, I want that more than anything, but I’m terrified to admit just how much.

If this crashes and burns, I’m pretty sure I’m done.

“Good. Now, you have a contract negotiation coming up, right?”

I nod. “Yeah. I’ve been ordered to be good.”

He gives me a wicked smile and moves closer. “Oh, you’ve been very, very good.”

I chuckle at that and start to relax. “Jenny will freak the fuck out if we out me.”

“We won’t. We’re capable of keeping this a secret. The bromance that everyone thinks they want, we can do that. We’ve been friends forever.”

I stand up, reaching out for his hand. “Let’s go discuss this in my room.”

He doesn’t argue, just hops up as we head upstairs. When we’re in my bed with our shoes and socks off, he’s the one to start the discussion again. “I’ve watched you play the game. You may be tired as fuck of all the PR bullshit, but you still love playing baseball.”

I nod, swallowing thickly and knowing he’s right. “I do. I really do.”

He cups my face in his large hand, his fingers calloused from years of playing the guitar. “Then you can’t let anything else get in the way.”

“I would for you.” And it’s true. Completely, 100 percent true. I would give up everything to be with him.

“I won’t let you.” His lips graze mine. “We can be discreet. We can figure it out.”

“You love the music too. Your career is important. I’ve watched you when you play. I’ve watched you work the crowd. No matter how large or small. You love it.”

He smiles, and it’s all confidence. “You’ve been to my concerts?”

I nod, not bothering to lie. “A few over the years. And you fucking love it.”

He looks like he wants to say something, but quickly changes his mind. “I do. But I want this with you.”

“What would your label say if you started fucking a guy?”

He bristles, and I know he hates that part of fame as much as I do. “I doubt they would be okay with it. They pretend to care about all people, but it’s not the truth. My brand is the bad boy who some woman can someday change.”

I nod, already knowing that. “Yeah. I think that’s really what the baseball world wants to believe about me.”

“I know it is.” He faces me while we lay on my bed and holds me there. “Okay. No more talking. We do it the Grady Bell way.”

I laugh, “And what way is that?”

“We go for it. We do exactly what we want, jumping in headfirst, and we don’t fucking worry. It’ll work out. We’ll be careful in public.”

“It’s all going to blow up.”

“Maybe. But for right now, I just want this.” He leans forward and kisses me deeply, pulling a deep groan from me. I’ve missed him all day, and he was right here.

“I do too. Just one more question,” I say against his lips, and he smiles.

“What?”

“Did you write “Hellish Wonderland” about me?”

He grins smugly. “What do you think?”

I bite his bottom lip and then suck on it before meeting his eyes. “I think I want you to fuck me.”

Now it’s his turn to gulp loudly as he nods. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” I kiss him again, letting my body drift over his.

I decide taking the Grady Bell route sounds really fucking good right now.