Grady lifted the package of chicken breasts in one hand, weighing it against the ground beef he held in the other. Would he actually eat either of them before they spoiled? He set the beef in the shopping cart and put the chicken back.
“I’ll take those,” Micah said at his side, snagging the chicken and setting the package with his pile of items.
Their joint shopping trip was a result of Micah’s offhanded comment at the end of their hike yesterday about needing to get groceries. Grady had snagged the distraction and coupled it with him getting his shopping done before he’d thought the idea through.
“You’re not buying much,” Micah noted.
Their shared cart was filled with a large selection of fresh produce, most of it Micah’s. Grady had added the beef, a box of cereal, a bag of apples, and some protein bars mostly to make it look like he was shopping.
“I don’t have a lot of storage space.” A complete truth.
“Where do you live?”
“Out of my car or a tent usually,” he evaded. “Sometimes a camper or a bunk provided by whatever outfitter I’m working for.” Apprehension tightened around his chest, his past rushing up to haunt him even now. “Do you need milk?”
Micah frowned, but let his nonanswer go. “Yes.”
“Cool. I need to grab some laundry detergent. You go get your milk.” He swung the cart around and left before Micah could object. He took a few slow breaths as he escaped, barely resisting the urge to kick the wobbly wheel that shook the cart.
They were just shopping, nothing more. He was helping Micah, who didn’t have a car. He didn’t need one when public transportation took him everywhere he needed to go. Or that’s what he’d told Grady. The idea of not having a car, of being unable to jump in it and just go at any moment gave him the chills.
“Grady?”
He whipped around to see Warren Novak heading down the aisle. Shit. “War.” He forced a smile, hand extended to greet the Kick partner. What in the hell was he doing here? Now?
War shook his hand, a single nod going with it. “It’s good to see you.”
Yet another Marine turned adventure guide who’d found a home at Kick after he’d left the service. Tall, fit, and intimidating without trying, it wasn’t a stretch to tag a Dom label on him and intuitively understand that it fit.
“You too.” He managed to make the lie sound valid. “How’s everything at Kick?”
“Going fine.” War lifted the basket he held in one hand, protein bars and beef jerky stacked within it. “Just grabbing a few supplies for a trip. How’s Finn doing?”
“The same, which is good.” Grady glanced over his shoulder, nerves ratcheting up the longer they stood there. The idea of War seeing him with Micah, of the questions and subsequent conclusions, sent a wave of fear down his spine. If the two knew each other, all pretenses would be off. He nudged the cart by War. “I’m heading to the hospital after this.”
“I’ll try to stop in this week,” War said, frowning.
“Okay.” He cut in before War could say more. “I’ll see you around.” He kept his strides slow, posture loose despite the frantic pace of his pulse, and hoped his departure didn’t look like the escape it was.
“Hey, Grady,” War called.
Fuck. He turned back. “Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
What a loaded question. The truth would reveal too much, so he kept the lie short. “Sure.” He left the aisle before War could ask anything more.
The jitters rushed in the second he was out of sight. He gripped the cart handle until it hurt, his skin crawling with trapped fear that bordered on panic. Heat flushed his skin and hazy shadows edged his vision.
He had to get out before he was seen with Micah, and War connected dots that shouldn’t be connected. He left the cart near the exit and bolted out the doors. He was overreacting, yet that knowledge didn’t change his reaction.
The moist air hit his face and for once he was grateful for the misty Portland rain. He dodged a few pedestrians to claim a spot along the brick wall half a block down from the store’s entrance, breaths slowing with his heart rate.
That’d been too close. He’d been at Dane’s twice without seeing any of the Kick partners, and he’d almost been caught with Micah in a damn grocery store. The irony wasn’t funny.
“Grady?” The confused note in Micah’s voice ripped into Grady. “Why are you out here?”
He jolted away from the wall, fumbling for an excuse. “Just needed some air.”
Micah frowned. “I saw you dart out of the store like it was on fire.”
“Yeah.” Shit. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, brain blanking on valid excuses. The hole he was digging for himself kept getting bigger and bigger.
“What’s going on?” Micah crossed his arms, brows lowering.
He glanced around Micah to the store entrance, apprehension still clutching at his chest. “Come on.” He nodded down the sidewalk and took off away from the store, hoping Micah would follow him. If they could just get around the corner, he’d be able to breathe again.
“Where are we going?”
Grady increased his pace. He should’ve gone to his car, but that was in the other direction now. And they still had the groceries to buy. God, he was fucking this up.
“Stop.” Micah grabbed his arm, jerking him around. “Would you talk to me?”
Concern shone in Micah’s eyes, gray now with shots of deep blue. Focusing on his eyes was easier than answering his question. “As soon as we’re around the corner.” He shot a glance back at the store, heart hitching when a guy stepped out. It wasn’t War though. “Please.”
Micah’s long sigh signaled his agreement before he loosened his hold. “Fine.”
Grady was off the second Micah let go of his arm. He held his breath until they’d turned the corner, his relief escaping in a long exhale.
“Grady…”
He spun around to see Micah stumble, then catch himself on the wall.
“I need to…” Micah shook his head, blinked a few times. “Sit down.”
His pulse jumped another notch as he strode back to Micah. “Is this—”
“Yes.” Micah cut him off, his answer clipped and tight.
Right. Damn. He found that calm he relied on so heavily for his job and forced himself to think, not react. He spotted a coffee shop just down the street. “Can you walk?”
Micah blew out a breath, his lips forming silent words that Grady couldn’t decipher but looked like numbers. He’d take that as a no.
“Here,” he said, edging in next to him. “The sidewalk’s clean. Let’s just sit here. The building is blocking the drizzle too, so it’s dry.” He slid down the wall, bringing Micah with him until they were both on the ground, backs resting against the bricks.
Micah’s eyes were closed and Grady eased a hand around his wrist to check his pulse out of habit. Elevated, but well within normal range. Micah sucked in a breath, turned his wrist beneath Grady’s hold. Was he looking for the cuff?
He kept his hand there and pitched his voice into a soothing tone. “We’re outside of Safeway, the grocery store you always go to.” Micah had insisted on shopping at this store. “On the street, though, because I got scared and ran from the store.” And there was the blatant truth. “It’s morning, but you said you don’t lose that information.”
Cars passed on the street, the wet swish of their tires drowning out other sounds. A teenager walked by without looking at them. Everything was normal, only it wasn’t for them.
“Why were you scared?”
He barely heard the question. It would’ve been simple to ignore it. Why was I scared? Did he trust Micah enough to answer him truthfully? How could he not? He was sitting on the street next to Micah who was currently more vulnerable than him. A guy who’d challenged himself for Grady and had already shared his own dark secrets. Micah wasn’t a threat to him. Not now, if ever.
If he was being really honest with himself, a part of him wanted to tell Micah. Wanted him to understand even if it changed Micah’s impression of him. Maybe because it might.
“I saw Warren Novak in the store.”
Micah turned his head to study him. His gaze was slighly unfocused, a dazed quality to his expression. “The Kick partner?”
So Grady had been right. Micah did know him. “That’s the one.”
“And you’re afraid of him, why?”
“No,” he quickly corrected. “I’m not afraid of him. More I was afraid of him seeing me with you and jumping to conclusions.”
Micah lifted his brow, the movement slow. “What conclusions?”
How far did he go with the truth? “That I’m your sub.”
“But you’re not.”
“I know,” he insisted, knocking his head against the wall. He did, logically. “I had a bad experience with a Dom when I was younger.” The words tumbled out in a rush. “The guy took me in when I was a teen, offered support, and groomed me into the role of his submissive before I’d grasped what was happening.” Memories of James raged forward, but they were distant and couldn’t hurt him anymore—if he didn’t let them.
“Shit, Grady…” Micah started, but Grady shook his head to cut him off. This was already hard and he wouldn’t get through it if he felt even an ounce of pity from him. He’d made his mistakes and the past was done. This was a simple retelling of facts, not a fishing expedition for sympathy.
“He, uh…James,” he continued before he lost his nerve. “He was the owner of the first rafting outfitter I worked for. He’d given me a job in my teens and welcomed me in when I had no place else to go.” James hadn’t been a total dick. It would’ve been easier to leave if he had been. Easier to see the truth of their relationship if he hadn’t been blinded by the kindness.
His foot bounced, his anxiety leaking out in the persistent beat. “He eased me into the lifestyle almost without me knowing,” he said, thankful Micah gave him the space to reveal the story at his pace. “It started off with sex, and then blended into other aspects of our relationship until he was controlling most of my actions under the role of him being my Dom.” From where Grady could go to who he talked to.
“And you consented to that?” Micah asked.
He shuddered but not from the cold. “I didn’t know how to get out. I was eighteen and James was all I had.” He’d been so desperate for safety at that point. A place—a person—to trust, and James had latched on to that need and twisted it to fit his own. “The other guides understood what was going on and laid into me whenever he wasn’t around.” He fisted his free hand to contain the sudden urge to lash out at guys far in his past. “About bending over for my Dom and sucking dick for a job. And how weak I was to let someone boss me around.”
“Assholes.”
“Pretty much.” He swallowed back the hurt that still managed to touch him and forcibly straightened his fingers. He thought he’d let go of that anger years back. “But they were right about some of it.”
Micah jerked around, eyes wide. “No!”
“Yes,” he insisted, overriding Micah’s outrage. “I was weak. I went along with his demands when I should’ve said no.” He leaned in, certainty clipping his words. “It took me over a year to find the balls to get out. I ran and James followed, so I ran farther and kept going.” He lost his momentum then, the old frustration draining away in a stream of futility.
He sunk back, glanced at Micah, eyes narrowed in a dare for him to deny his words. What he found was solemn…compassion, maybe? Understanding?
And how exactly had they gotten so deep into Grady’s life when he should be focusing on Micah?
“Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Going on about myself.” And forgetting all about Micah’s situation. “How are you doing?”
“Better.” Micah rubbed his forehead and looked around. “Thank you for telling me what you did.”
He had no idea why he’d revealed so much except to balance the score a little bit. Finn was the only other person he’d ever shared that story with. The only person he’d ever trusted enough until now.
Fuck. His skin crawled again, the locked-up energy urging him to get away. But he wouldn’t leave Micah.
“So what happens exactly? To you?” he questioned, the bouncing jitter speeding out in the quick flexing of his toes. He was so done talking about himself. “This seemed worse than after sex.” He’d only barely noticed a difference in Micah on the mountain, and really not at all the first two times.
“Can I ask you one more thing first?”
No was his instant thought, but he found himself saying “Sure.”
Micah tilted his head, brows lowering a touch. “Given what you went through, why did you agree to work for Kick?”
“Finn.” The answer was out before he’d thought about it. He shrugged, brushing off the deeper reasons. The ones connected to family and his mother’s death. No way could he go down that road right now. “So back to you.” He gave a half smile, hand clenching. He was a breath away from bounding up when Micah nodded. Thank fuck.
“These are worse.” He wet his lips, gaze lowering. “It’s easier when I can prepare for it. I know I’m going to fuzz out when I come, so I can ground myself first.”
He broke Grady’s hold on his wrist to thread their fingers together. The connection was simple and soothed him too when it shouldn’t have. His foot slowed, the anxiousness settling into a low hum.
“It’s these random blips that throw me completely off,” Micah went on. “They happen in almost a blink and suddenly everything blends together, my equilibrium goes and it’s like I’m floating in space until my brain stabilizes.” He took a breath. “Then I realize I have no fucking clue where I am or where to go and I’m totally vulnerable at that point. That’s when the panic starts.”
That would blow big-time. And he was never going to get better, at least that’s what he’d said. No cure or magic pill and therapy hadn’t worked.
“I think your suckage pie is bigger than mine,” he tried to joke, but meaning it too.
Micah shrugged it off. “Everyone has something that sucks in their life. It’s all about learning to deal with it and moving on.”
“Truth.” He smiled, the sad irony working this time. “Too bad it’s so damn hard to do so.”
“Another truth.”
They grinned at each other, the moment wrapping around him in an entirely too comfortable way.
“So what do you do when you’re by yourself and this happens?” Grady asked before he did something foolish like kiss him.
Micah glanced around, brow wrinking as he studied the area. “It depends, but usually it’s not much different than this. I find a place to sit, breathe through my panic, and try to put the pieces back together.” He patted his jeans pocket. “The cards usually get me moving again or I wait until things click into place.”
“And this happens how often?”
“That depends.” He squeezed Grady’s hand. On purpose or a reflex? “It’s worse when I deviate from my routine. When I just go about my normal day and don’t overthink where I’m going, it usually doesn’t happen. But add in some stress or change things around and the frequency increases.”
So this was on Grady. “I pulled you off track, right? Left the store and came this way instead of going to the parking lot or the bus stop.”
“It’s not your fault. So don’t try and make it so.” He narrowed his eyes, his attempt at menacing missing its mark by a long shot.
No coddling. Right. Or saving. Was he forgetting anything?
He leaned in, impulsively laying a quick kiss on Micah’s lips. The guy had some serious shit he dealt with every damn day. That was pretty incredible. He was pretty incredible.
And those were really dangerous thoughts to have. Ones that led to longevity and hopes better left dead.
“So,” he said, going for casual before he freaked himself out again. “Should we go pay for those groceries or do you need more time?”
“I think I’m good.” He released Grady’s hand and stood, bracing himself on the wall for a moment.
Grady followed, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching to help him. The light rain had stopped, but the damp cement odor still filled the air. He breathed it in and let it chase away the remains of Micah’s scent.
“Okay,” Micah said, straightening. “Let’s go.”
They headed back to the store, Grady’s head spinning with all he’d shared and learned. He was getting too close to Micah. The guy didn’t need Grady’s troubles added to his own, but it’d been so damn nice having someone to talk to besides Finn. Someone who actually responded to him. Someone to share just a bit of his burden with and help him forget about Kick and Finn and his unknown future.
And that was a sure sign it was time to back off before he hurt Micah too.