Page 80 of My Grape Crush
“What if I didn’t?”
My pulse races as fast as my mind reels. I’m half in shock, half wishing Sawyer was here to eat his words.
“Oh,” is all I say.
He sits up and repositions himself on the sofa to face me, eyes bright and no longer dull. “You have the brains; I have a ton of money, more zeros than I know what to do with. Might be an option to explore.” He scratches the back of his neck like he’s itching away his fears. “I’d rather do something purposeful with my life. Not just be a face that sells random shit. I mean, not Pink Pearl, obviously,” he’s quick to point out. “That stuff is the bomb.”
He searches my face with frank confidence that unnerves me. What he’s inferring is huge. And the logistics of starting a new venture together when I’m still finding my feet at Nero Vino are beyond my grasp. Never mind the personal implications of merging lives. Suddenly this conversation is moving in a direction I’m not prepared for.
“I’m flattered by your offer,” I say. “But maybe we should, you know, let things unfold at something other than a breakneck pace?”
The shine in his eyes dims the tiniest bit. “Yeah. Sure,” he says, disappointment creeping into his voice. “I mean, no rush.”
Oh, god. Did he expect an immediate yes? Even though it feels like time has folded in on itself, it has only been seven days. Still, I sense he feels what I feel.
That there is potential in us.
I gather his hand in mine and kiss it. Tuck it to my breast. “Please don’t interpret that the wrong way. I like you. I like you a lot.” My accelerating heart rate cracks open the tightness I’m holding on to inside, and a nervy giggle erupts from the depths. “Honestly, I’ve had a stupid crush on you for years.”
A silence falls. So sudden and absolute and weighty, it becomes the third entity in the room. Rhys stares at me, head tilted like he’s trying to parse if he heard me correctly.
“Years?” He sits with a sudden stillness that feels dangerous. “I thought you recently followed me.”
A bad crampy feeling takes over my entire body. I can almost taste his unease. “Uhm, actually, my sister discovered you first. She hosted a podcast calledEasy A Gets the Scoop.She interviewed you three years ago. That was when I officially started following you.”
Very slowly, he extracts his hand from mine. “Your sister was Easy A?”
“Yes,” I say when, intuitively, I know the only answer to remove the heaviness that settled around us is “no.”
Rhys stands abruptly. Tall, trembling. I can see it on his face—pieces falling into place. But what pieces?
“Is that what went down at Yvette’s?” he asks, a wariness in his voice. “Some kind of sisterly payback?”
Huh? Sisterly payback?I’m utterly confused. A patch of voice escapes my mouth. “What does that mean?”
“I didn’t understand the look of triumph in your eyes,” he says, his voice gathering steam. “But now it makes sense. Was that the plan all along? For Amelia to show up here and orchestrate a tag team?”
His words land like poison darts. My whole body seems to wilt because he’s accusing me of something untrue.
“Honestly, I have no clue what you’re talking about,” I say. “Can you?—”
“Right,” he scoffs, cutting me off. “No clue. Just like you started following me two months ago.”
I feel a prick of panic at how fast everything has tilted not in my favor. But he has to understand. In what universe does it make sense to lead withHi, I’m Dani, your boss. And by the way, every night I cyberstalk you and think nasty thoughts. Welcome to Nero Vino!
I wring both hands, guilt brimming inside me. “I didn’t say anything about knowing who you were so you wouldn’t feel weird.”
Jesus. It sounds pathetic, even to me, and his eyes drill into mine like I’ve lost the plot.
“Yeah, well, so much for that.” He crosses both arms, his gaze liquid fire. “Last night you said you and Amelia have no secrets between each other.”
Suddenly, I feel queasy. Amelia was adamant I keep mum about the podcast—to keep my interactions with Rhys untainted is how she couched it. But his anger. That can only mean… Oh, shit. I rise to my feet, hoping that movement will shed the devastation building in my bones.
“Please,” I plead. “Tell me what happened with Amelia.” Because there is a story, although every nerve fiber in my body revolts against hearing it.
We stay locked in a silent standoff. An entire wordless exchange happens with his eyes locked on mine, and behind the anger is a flicker of despair.
“Today is already my worst nightmare, Dani,” he says, his voice stripped raw. “And I have zero interest in rehashing the past. Ask Easy A what happened and keep her far away from me. The last thing I need is more Crazies in my life.”
