Chapter 9

chapter nine

Addie

When I wake up the following morning, I almost forget where I am, whose room I'm in… whose bed I'm in, if it wasn't for the fact that I'm nestled between blankets that smell exactly the way Grant does.

Clean and crisp, with a masculine hint of cedar.

I'm surrounded by it, and I burrow further beneath the blanket, sighing sleepily.

My eyes slowly open to an assault of warm morning rays, bathing the bed and room in bright sunlight. Last night, I was so emotionally and physically exhausted that I crawled beneath the covers and immediately passed out.

Which I was thankful for because I was worried that my brain would never shut off. I was internally freaking about everything that had happened and even more so about the fact that I was with Grant.

I didn't really have a moment to look at his room until now in the daylight. The walls are painted a bright white, plain with no decorations or mementos. But tucked into the corner, there's a tall wooden bookshelf that's stuffed full of paperbacks. Most of the spines are worn and cracked from being read, and I can't help the smile that pulls at my lips.

I bet a large portion of them are poetry books.

It's something I've always loved about him, the fact that he's a paradox. The fact that he's this dedicated athlete, but he's also… reserved, smart, and reads poetry.

And he's also devastatingly handsome. Even more than I thought he would be.

My gaze shifts to his desk and the textbooks stacked haphazardly on top of it, along with a pile of hardbacks and opened notebooks.

Turning to lie flat on the mattress, I stare up at the stark white ceiling.

Did last night actually even happen?

I mean, if it wasn't for the fact that I'm currently in his bed, then I would think it was only a dream.

That him offering to marry me was simply a figment of my imagination. But I know that it's not because I haven't been able to stop replaying last night in my head, over and over.

Could I really… marry Grant ?

I tug my lip between my teeth and then flip to my side, placing my palms beneath my cheek as I think about that question. About the reality and the weight of what it really means.

If I think about it in black and white, it seems simple.

I was going to marry Dixon to save the bakery, even though it was the absolute last thing in the world I wanted to do. A guy who I hardly know, and the things I do know, aren't great. Especially after last night.

Then there's Grant, who once teased me about being my Prince Charming, my knight in shining armor who would swoop in and save the day… turns out he really is.

He's offering something that seems impossible and that… just might be crazy enough to work.

And my other option? Marrying Dixon… It's not really an option.

I know now that it never really was.

It seems so simple, the easiest solution in the world, to marry Grant, but a part of me knows that nothing in the world is ever really quite that simple, and that's what scares me.

Pulling myself from my thoughts, I send a quick text to Amos to check on Auggie and let him know I'll be by to pick him up soon. I texted him last night when I first got to Grant's, asking him to check on him since I was "studying with a friend," and he'd offered to take him home with him for a sleepover because Earl was dying for his "little" guy to come over. I sit up and push the covers off, then stand, making my way to the bedroom door, my thoughts currently moving at a breakneck speed I'm not equipped for this early in the morning.

Quietly, I open the door and pad down the hallway toward the kitchen. I'm surprised when I turn the corner and see Grant standing in front of the stove, the tan muscles of his back on display as he pushes a wooden spatula around a pan. His gray sweatpants are hung low on his hips, revealing dimples along his lower back.

My heart begins to pound wildly, and I realize how much I am not prepared for this moment. Just exactly how out of my element I am.

"Good morning," I say shyly.

That was stupid. I should've said something other than good morning, like, you know… hi again, thanks for offering to marry me to save my family's bakery, almost beating up my crazy "fiancé," and letting me spend the night in your bed while you slept on your couch.

That might have covered it, but good morning ?

For goodness' sake, Addie. Could you have thought of anything more lame to lead with?

I wince, pushing my hair behind my ear in an attempt to calm the nerves swirling in my stomach. At this rate, I'm going to have to braid my hair just so I'll stop nervously fidgeting with it.

He turns toward me, a lazy grin on his face. His eyes are still heavy-lidded from sleep, giving him what I'm convinced is the best I woke up like this face. "Good morning. I hope you like eggs because I cooked way too fucking many. And I also cooked, um… bacon, toast, hash browns, and… waffles?" He gestures to the kitchen table, which is covered in enough food to feed a family of seven.

My eyes widen, and I bring my hand to my mouth to cover the giggle that's about to burst past my lips.

"Yeaaaaah, I might have overdone it a bit, but I didn't know what you liked, and I figured you'd be starving after last night."

It's actually really… sweet of him to do that, and I reply, "Thank you. Anything is fine with me. I love all of it."

His grin widens into a smile as he nods and turns back to the stove.

I walk over to the kitchen table and pull out a chair while he finishes cooking the eggs. As much as I try not to, I can't help but stare at him as he cooks.

My cheeks are probably as red as the jar of strawberry jelly sitting in front of me, but I'm praying that he'll be too focused on eating to notice.

This is the first time I've ever slept over with a guy before. Even if we did sleep in separate rooms.

That fact is just now hitting me, and combined with the fact that he's shirtless and has more abs than I think I've ever seen in my life, I'm a bit… flustered.

"Addie?"

My gaze whips to him, and I mumble, "Sorry, did you, uh, say something?"

"I was asking if you wanted orange juice?" He laughs, the sound still raspy with sleep.

I realize then that he's holding a container of pulp-free orange juice. The bottle actually looks small compared to the size of his hand, which makes me…

"Yes. Yes, please," I say in a rush before ducking my head and hiding the fire on my cheeks.

I do this thing when I blush—my entire body turns red with it, and it's almost as embarrassing as the last twenty-four hours of my life have been.

Truthfully, I'm not sure why this morning I'm ten times more nervous than I was last night, but it's probably because my brain is less occupied by what happened with Dixon and instead focused on the way-too-attractive man in front of me who literally proposed I marry him.

That's definitely it.

Avoiding his eyes, I put a little of everything on my plate and only glance up when he pours the orange juice into my glass and sits down beside me.

His hair is sticking in a hundred different directions from sleep, and I focus my eyes there instead of the sculpted muscles on his chest.

"How'd you sleep?" Grant asks casually, spreading butter on his toast.

God, I'm literally watching Jockboy spread butter on his toast , and I feel like I'm living on another planet. Maybe an alternate universe.

"Uh, I slept fine," I say, clearing my throat. "How did you… sleep?"

"Well, my couch is not meant for tall people because my knees hung off all night, so I think I might need to see the chiropractor." He winces when he twists in his chair. "Good thing I know a few."

When he winks, my stomach does a somersault.

"God, I'm sorry, I should have taken the couch. I didn't even think about the fact that you're a giant."

He laughs before shoving his toast into his mouth and shakes his head vehemently. "Nah, I'm a gentleman, ArtGirl. Like I'd ever let you sleep on the couch. Plus, it was worth it. I'm really glad that we got to talk last night."

I push the eggs around my plate with my fork and whisper, "Me too. It just feels… surreal though, right? Maybe it's just me, but I can hardly believe that we're even sitting here right now. Together ."

I hope that didn't sound as stupid as I think it did. It sounded much better in my head.

"No, it's totally fucking surreal, Addie," he agrees, rubbing his hand over the fresh scruff on his jaw. "Honestly? I thought I'd wake up this morning and you'd be gone."

"I'm sorr?—"

"Don't apologize. I just… I feel like if I fucking blink , you'll slip through my fingers, and I want you to be a part of my life, however that may be. In whatever way that I can have you. I just don't want to let you go again."

My pulse races at his admission, and I find myself nodding. "I… I'm not going anywhere, Grant."

I'm not sure I can even truly make that promise, but I do anyway because the emotion flickering in his gaze grabs hold of me, twisting its way around my heart and taking root.

"We should probably talk about last night. About…" He trails off.

"About your proposal."

Grant nods as he sets his fork down and leans onto his elbows on the kitchen table, holding my gaze intently while he speaks. "I meant it. Every word of what I said. I get that it probably sounds crazy, but… it can't be any crazier than you tying yourself to that guy for life. Yeah, it would be an arrangement between us, something that we could both stand to benefit from, but Addie, I would never disrespect you. I would never treat you the way that he did. I would never touch you in anger or speak to you with anything but kindness. That's not the man that I am, and I think you know that by now. Wouldn't you rather marry a friend than that dick?"

I let what he's saying sink in, and I realize that… he's not wrong. Marrying him isn't really any crazier than marrying someone I feel completely unsafe with and honestly afraid of. What would really be insane is marrying Dixon . Especially after last night.

"I know. I do, I know, but I…" I trail off and blow out a breath. "I just… Grant, do you realize that you're offering to tie your life to me? Someone you barely know? Someone whose life is kind of a mess. It's marriage , not something we can walk away from when it suddenly feels like too much because we're legally bound together. If we're going to talk about this, or even seriously consider it, I think that we both have to be aware of what the cost of agreeing to this will do to our lives."

"It's not a cost to me. I'm not sacrificing anything to marry you, Addie. I mean, yeah, I'd be doing this for you. Because I feel slightly fucking murderous when I think of you ever being alone with that guy again and because I care about you. I genuinely want to help you because I care about you. But I wasn't lying when I said it can help me too. My agent is trying to close this sponsorship deal for me, and the company is worried about my reputation. Even though it's mostly just bullshit… it doesn't matter because it's how things have been perceived. I have to turn that around if I want to sign this deal because it's not just going to help my career. It's going to give me momentum going into the draft. That's what I want after college, to play professionally, and marrying you can actually help me work towards that too."

Okay, that makes sense and honestly makes me feel inherently better that I'm not the only one who's going to benefit from us being married. I feel guilty even considering involving him in the mess of my life, but when he puts it that way, it feels like less of a burden. I mean, marriage is only a piece of paper, right?

It's also not going to fix everything. Marrying Grant won't fix the fact that the bank is threatening foreclosure. But… at least it would prevent Brent from selling it out from under me and give me time to figure out the financials.

And it gets me away from Dixon.

I'm lost in my head again when he reaches out and grasps my fingers, dragging my attention back to him.

"Tell me what you're thinking. What's going on in your head right now?"

My lips part, and I laugh half-heartedly. "Everything? I'm thinking about all the things I don't know when it comes to what this marriage would have to look like in order to legally secure the bakery. Like if we do this, what's the end date? When do we decide that our arrangement has been fulfilled? This doesn't fix all of the bakery's problems… so what if the financial issues with the bakery affect you too? And afterwards, do we get an annulment or divorce, then walk away? What if you want to… be with someone else while we're married? Would I have to move into your apartment? Do we have to have a wedding? I have so many questions, and I know it's probably all just really stupid things, but…"

Grant squeezes my hand gently in his, his pillowy lips twitching in amusement at the word vomit that I just spewed.

Truly, I was unable to stop it. Which is generally not the case with me. I'm more of a not seen nor heard kind of girl, but this is… a lot.

"It's not stupid. Those are all legit questions and pretty big ones too. And I agree, if we do this, then we lay it all out. We need to know exactly what the plan is and what it would take to get the bakery. Then we can focus on the financial stuff—one problem at a time."

Suddenly, my mind spinning sends me to an answer that I probably should've landed on prior to now. I just hadn't assumed there would be another marriage option. Until now.

"I think we should talk to a lawyer. I mean, I think the first place to start is at the source. Have him confirm what Earl overheard about my mom's will and that I do actually inherit Ever After if I'm married. I only recently found out about the will, and I planned on consulting a lawyer. I just hadn't had a chance before… all of this. Maybe they could help us answer some of these questions?"

Nodding, he offers, "Yeah, I think that's a solid first step. We can ask what would legally meet the inheritance criteria as far as the marriage goes and make sure there's not anything additional that you have to do. We can start there and then figure out what comes next? One step at a time."

"Yeah, I think that's perfect," I murmur with a small, hopeful smile.

"Then let's do this, ArtGirl." He smirks playfully before grabbing his fork and digging into his uneaten breakfast like we didn't just possibly decide to get married.

He's nothing like I expected him to be, but I think exactly … what I needed.