Chapter 39 Grayce

“Are you drunk?”
I don’t know why I bothered asking because, of course, he was. It was apparent as Jaxon stood swaying on my doorstep at two-thirty that morning with a stupid grin on his face that he was, indeed, drunk. He shook his head, but I could smell the booze reeking off his breath. He was grinning, his eyes glassy and bloodshot.
“Can we talk?” he asked. I looked around, hoping he had a friend here who could take him home and put him to bed.
“It’s late,” I said. “Can we do this another time?” I had no intention of doing anything at any other time, but I hoped that would at least get him off my doorstep. No such luck. I started to close the door, but Jaxon put his foot out, lodging it open. I hesitated, glaring at him, wondering if it would be too mean to break his fingers in the door jam. “Go home.”
“I want to talk,” he said. “I have some stuff to say.”
“You’re drunk. Whatever you say now means nothing.”
“I didn’t mean what I said,” Jaxon said, catching me off guard. “In the library, when I said that about you. I didn’t mean it. Seriously.”
“Grow up, Jaxon,” I said, and the little bit of dignity and self-control I’d had left dwindled entirely. I stepped into the doorway, forcing him to take a startled step back. “If you didn’t mean it, you wouldn’t have said it. Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t care what you think about me. We’re very different people. I’m not like you, and I’m not like the girls you hang out with, and that’s how I like it.”
“That’s how I like it, too.” He tried to step in closer, but I blocked the door.
“Grayce? Is everything okay?” Behind me, Alex came out of her bedroom. She wore nothing more than an extra-large tee-shirt and booty shorts, but Jaxon barely glanced at her.
“Everything is fine,” I said. “Jaxon was just leaving.”
“Actually—”
“Goodbye,” I said firmly and pushed him back just enough to get the door closed. I stood there for a moment leaning up against the closed door, breathless, wondering if he was still standing on the other side of it.
“Wow,” Alex said. She had her arms crossed over her breasts, staring at me. “Talk about desperate.”
“Drunk,” I said. “He’s wasted. He can go home. Whatever he wanted to say to me tonight, he already said earlier. The rest is irrelevant.”
“You know what they say, don’t you?” Alex said. “A drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts.”
“Are you defending him now?” I snapped. “Because if I can recall correctly, it was only a few hours ago that you were threatening him and telling me to move on.”
“And I’m not taking that back,” Alex assured me. “But, Grayce, the guy is starting to look pathetic. Maybe it’s best if you guys apologize before going your separate ways.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “Closure, maybe.” She scoffed and glanced back at the closed door before turning away from me to go back to bed. “It’s pretty clear you both need it.”