Unraveled (Woodlands) by Jen Frederick Page B

guy who accused me of cheating and then left me hanging on the cusp of an orgasm because there were too many of Will’s things in my condo? As I pulled on the shorts and a pair of thick socks, I realized that I was. What better things did I have to do? Sit here and knit? Why not take my knitting needles on a little adventure?
    I dug out a worn T-shirt that said, "I knit so I don't kill people." Gray might appreciate the humor of it. Wait, did I really care what Gray thought of my T-shirt slogans? I threw it back into the drawer and found a workout T-shirt that had no slogans and was a neon green. Looking at my reflection in the full-length mirror on the closet door, I saw that the neon green made my entire face look sickly. My eyes shot toward the knitting shirt and vanity won out. If sturdy boots and shorts were some kind of code for outdoors sex, then I didn't want to make Gray sick at the sight of me. Not that I was going to have sex with him. He’d turned me down twice.
    I slid the knitting T-shirt over my head. I didn’t own boots and wondered if tennis shoes would be okay. When I pulled out my phone, I was struck with the realization that I didn't have Gray's number. Even if I’d wanted to cancel, I'd have to do it in person. Was that an accident because he just hadn't thought to ask, or was it intentional?
    I tried not to think too hard about what I was doing and instead just drove over to Adam’s house. Gray was on the lawn, throwing a football with one of the guys from the house. I didn't know them all, only Adam and Finn. Drums and the sound of a guitar poured from the detached garage where Adam and his band must be practicing. There was a hive of activity here. I didn't know exactly how many people lived here, but the number of people milling about had to be close to twenty.
    I slowed down so I didn't run over an errant footballer.
    Gray came up to my window and I rolled it down. “Is the offer still good?”
    He leaned against the windowsill and his forearm was inches away from me. The healthy sweat from his impromptu game smelled good and I felt a little nostalgic for the times that I'd hugged Will after his track practice when you could smell fresh cut grass mixed in with clean male testosterone. A sudden urge to run my tongue up the side of his veined neck rocked me.
    When I looked straight into his gold-flecked eyes, there was a corresponding hunger.
But what about last night?
I wanted to cry. We could have explored all of this last night, but instead I was going somewhere on an “adventure.” Well, this adventure better be damned good. Almost against my will, I swayed toward him, but my seatbelt saved me from utter humiliation. It caught me mid-swoon and held me back. Looking down at my hands, I thought about putting the vehicle in reverse and driving away.
    "I'll get the gear," Gray said, voice low. I fought back a visible shiver. What was wrong with me? Or maybe the better question was what was with
him?
"Don't leave," he ordered as if somehow my trepidation was obvious. "Don't leave," he repeated.
    I sat there in my idling truck and watched the guys and girls on the front lawn, some staring at me and others admiring Gray’s form as he loped toward the garage. It was hard not to admire his powerful build. Had I once thought that he wasn’t my type? That had been some kind of crazy talk.

CHAPTER SEVEN

    G RAY DIRECTED ME TOWARD THE Red Rock cliffs, a small area of bluffs that dropped into the city's river. I'd never been here before. Out of the back he pulled out a bunch of ropes and nylon things and metal hooks.
    "Is that what I think it is?"
    "If you're thinking it's extreme macramé, then no it isn't." Gray didn't look at me but instead was intent on winding rope around his elbow and shoulder. He shrugged off one coil and handed it to me. The weight of it was heavier than I’d anticipated. "Think you can handle that?" Gray gave a chin nod toward the rope. I hefted it.
    "As long as we aren't