In the Grasp Read online

  Copyright © 2021 by Cadence Keys

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblances to actual people, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales are entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference.

  Editors: Happily Editing Anns

  Cover Design: Kate Farlow, Y’all. That Graphic

  For my son, who gave me the courage to chase what I thought was an impossible dream.

  CONTENTS

  Part 1: Then

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Part 2: Now

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Also by Cadence Keys

  About the Author

  PART 1: THEN

  ONE

  9 years ago

  Falling in love with my best friend was never part of the plan.

  It feels like I’ve known Jack my whole life. We first met on the playground at school my first day of kindergarten. I was sitting on the swings, still struggling with that legs-forward-then-kick-back thing to get myself moving—I was mostly just kicking up the wood chips that made up the playground and barely swinging at all. Next thing I know, three first-grade boys came up to me and told me I had to move.

  I’ve never liked being told what to do—I think it comes from having two obnoxious older brothers who always try to boss me around. But who really knows; maybe I’m just stubborn. Basically, I told the boys they could have their pick of the other ten open swings, but they kept hassling me. They started jostling my swing’s handles, forcing me to cling to it to keep from being thrown off.

  Behind my bullies, I heard a boy shout, “Hey, stop that.” The boys parted, and that’s when I first laid eyes on Jack Fuller. He was cute even then, not that I was really paying attention at that point. Boys still had cooties as far as I was concerned.

  My bullies didn’t like that someone came along to spoil their fun, and they ended up pushing Jack down. He got up and punched the biggest one in the face. The boy promptly burst into tears, and then the whole group ran away. Jack watched them carefully, then he walked up to me, his cute little face frowning, and looked at me closely.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I said.

  He proceeded to sit in the swing next to me and then spent the remainder of recess teaching me how to properly use my legs to gain momentum. At the end of recess, he told me that I was now his best friend, and he’d always protect me. I thought he was just being nice, but it’s been over ten years since that day, and he’s still my best friend.

  Today is the first day of our junior year at Thomas Aquinas Preparatory School, a private school in Vancouver, Washington that’s just right across the river from Portland, where most of us hang out when we’re not at school. I haven’t seen Jack all summer since he’s been at an intensive football camp that only finished a week ago. He’s an amazingly talented quarterback, and there have already been several scouts from universities around the nation at his games. I’m beyond proud of him because I know how badly he wants to go pro.

  But it’s been hard not seeing him this summer. It’s the first summer we’ve gone without seeing each other since we were five years old. We tried to talk on the phone at night when he had some time, but he was usually pretty tired.

  Honestly, I’ve missed him more than I thought I would. I’m sure this will sound crazy since I’m only a sixteen-year-old girl, but I think I’m in love with him. I haven’t told him, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been successful in keeping my feelings to myself since he’s given me no hint that he knows. But ever since we entered high school, it’s gotten harder to hide how I feel. It’s also been harder to pretend I don’t notice how attractive Jack’s becoming. The way his mesmerizing dark blue eyes light up when he laughs, or how the muscles in his arms have become more prominent due to all his extra time in the gym in an effort to bulk up for football.

  It’s dangerous feeling this way for my best friend. He’s the one person in my life I can always go to and rely on. I tell him everything, but I’m terrified if I tell him how I feel, it could ruin our friendship. On the other hand, there’s a possibility he might feel it too, and we could end up dating. My heart speeds up a little at the idea. A third possibility is he could politely reject me but still want to be friends, which would absolutely crush me. The thought of watching Jack date other girls already makes me want to vomit, but if I had to watch him with the knowledge that he knows how I feel, I think I would actually die.

  I need to stop thinking about this.

  Jack’s picking me up in ten minutes to drive me to school, and I’m practically giddy with excitement. It took me forever to figure out which outfit to wear, but I eventually settled on a cute, deep red summer dress with cap sleeves. It accentuates my figure, just like the magazines suggest I should in order to get a boy’s attention. It’s the first time I’ve ever taken the advice of a magazine, but I figure they have to know what they’re talking about, right? I also put on makeup, using the colors the girl at Sephora advised to bring out the brown in my eyes, while my dark brown hair lies in loose curls just past my shoulders. The chime of the doorbell rings throughout the house just as I finish applying my lip gloss.

  “I got it!” I yell as I grab my backpack and run down the stairs.

  Swinging open the door, my eyes widen as I absorb the sight before me and fight not to drop my jaw to the ground.

  Holy shit. Jack got way hot.

  His brown hair is cut short on the sides, a little longer on the top, and looks slightly mussed like he’s been running his fingers through it. His deep blue eyes widen as his gaze drops slowly down my body in such a blatant perusal that my heart feels like it might beat right out of my chest. His gaze finally slides back up until he makes eye contact with me, and the smile that covers his face is dazzling.

  “Wow, Paige. You look great!”

  He steps into the house and wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, making my whole body feel warm and my heart slam against my chest f
rom his proximity. He smells so good. I close my eyes and squeeze him back, convinced this is heaven.

  Man, I’ve got it bad.

  He pulls back, not looking nearly as affected as I’m sure I do. “You ready to go?”

  “Yep!” I turn around to pull the door closed after we walk out, trying to hide the blush that’s spread over my fair cheeks. “Bye, Mom, see you after school.” I think she calls back, but I don’t hear her before the door closes, and I follow Jack to his BMW 3-series.

  Have I mentioned his parents are loaded? Personally, I don’t think a sixteen-year-old boy needs a brand-new car, but since it’s now my ride too, I guess I can admit it’s pretty cool. He opens the door for me, and I slide in. I take a few deep breaths as he walks around the car, hoping I can calm my crazy heartbeat. When he gets in he glances at my legs as he starts the car, and I can feel the blush on my cheeks deepen.

  He clears his throat, slides his sunglasses on, and refocuses on the road. “So, how was your summer? We didn’t get to talk much while I was at football camp.” He glances at me briefly before concentrating on the road.

  Are his cheeks turning pink, or am I imagining things?

  “It was amazing. I spent some time on my grandparents’ farm in Eastern Washington.”

  “Those are the ones with the horses, right?”

  “Yep. My grandpa actually let me name one that they got while I was there. I hated that I had to leave him. I miss him already.”

  “More than you missed me?” He smiles at me as he says it, and I can feel my blush deepen further. At this rate, my cheeks will be darker than the red of my dress before we even make it to school. I really need to get myself under control. It’s never been this hard to hide my feelings for him, but I’m still processing how hot he got over the summer, and my brain is struggling to remember why it would be a bad idea to lean over and kiss him right now.

  I slap his arm. “No. That would be impossible. By the way, you’re not allowed to leave me for a whole summer ever again.”

  “Well, that might be a problem, since I already got invited back for next summer.”

  “Seriously?!”

  He nods. I can’t help being proud of him, even if I am disappointed I’ll have to go another summer without him around.

  “Congrats. I know how big a deal that is—even if it means that you’re abandoning me again.” I smile at him so he knows I’m not really mad.

  We pull into the parking lot, and I move my hand toward the handle when Jack stops me.

  “Hang on.” He reaches into the back, grabs his backpack, and then runs around to my side. He opens my door for me, and my jaw practically hits the floor. I was not expecting that. He’s never done that for me before, and I’m sure my smile is a mile wide when I finally make eye contact with him. He just smiles back and then we walk together toward the main entrance.

  This is going to be a good year. I can already tell.

  TWO

  When the hell did Paige get so gorgeous?

  The thought keeps intruding every time I sneak a glance at my best friend sitting in the seat next to me while our history teacher, Mr. Morris, rambles on about who knows what—well, I’d probably know if I could concentrate for longer than ten seconds.

  I can’t stop replaying the moment when she opened the door this morning. For a second I was worried I might come in my pants because of how hot she got over the summer. Has she always been this beautiful? I mean, I knew that Paige was cute, but something definitely changed over the summer. Maybe it’s because I was away for a couple of months and now I’m seeing her with fresh eyes. Whatever it is, it’s got me all kinds of distracted and my body in a constant state of arousal that I’ve been fighting all day.

  I sneak another glance. My gaze instantly lands on her plump pink lips that look shiny from her lip gloss, but it quickly drops to admire the way her dress hugs her in all the right places. I wiggle in my seat subtly, suddenly uncomfortable with the—once again—tightening of my pants. I’ve got to stop thinking about Paige this way, but damn, she looks so good.

  Unlike me, she seems completely unaffected by my presence. She’s focused on our teacher and taking notes dutifully like the good student she is. At least one of us can concentrate. I wonder if she’ll let me copy her notes later. Maybe I can invite her over under the pretense of copying her notes but then make a move.

  What the fuck am I thinking? This is Paige, for fuck’s sake. She’s my best friend. She’s the one person in my life who has never cared about my parents’ wealth or my popularity. Hell, she’s the one who’s always calling me out if I start to get too cocky. I can’t fuck things up with her.

  But, goddamn, I can’t stop thinking about her either…and not in a purely friendly way. There is nothing wholesome about the thoughts swimming around nonstop in my head right now—even when she’s less than three feet away from me.

  I glance over at her again and catch her looking at me—or my arms more specifically. She turns away quickly, a blush creeping across her cheeks that makes her look even hotter if that’s even possible at this point.

  Did Paige just check me out? Is she feeling this too? Fuck, I hope so.

  After what feels like forever, the class ends, and I walk out into the hall with Paige. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, suddenly shy with me. Paige hasn’t been shy with me since we were five and I taught her how to swing, but I kind of like that I seem to make her a little nervous now. It’s causing this adorable blush to stay on her cheeks, and I really like that. I put my hand on the small of her back and pull her into a secluded walkway. I quickly glance behind me to make sure no one is coming down this way before facing her.

  “Jack? What’s up?” She’s looking at me like I’m being weird, which makes sense since I am acting weird, but I’m suddenly desperate to get her alone.

  “I…I couldn’t focus in Morris’s class. Would you be down to come over to my house tonight so I can copy your notes?”

  She quirks her brow, still confused, but also maybe amused. “Sure, or I could just give you my notebook now. You can give it back to me tomorrow.”

  “No,” I say too quickly. If she gives it to me now, then I lose my excuse to hang out with her after practice. “It would be better if you just came over…you know, so I can…ask you to clarify your notes if I’ve got a question…or something.”

  “Okaayyy, sure. Did that really require you pulling me into this hallway? You’re acting like you’re about to do something illegal.” She laughs at me nervously like she thinks I’m losing my mind.

  To be fair, I might be. I’m trying to think of a valid excuse for my odd behavior, but she looks so beautiful looking at me with those big brown eyes that match her long, wavy hair, I can’t stop myself.

  Before I lose my nerve, I whisper, “No, but this did.” Then, I lean down and kiss her.

  Her lips are soft, just like I imagined they’d be. She makes a little moan and leans into me, kissing me back thoroughly and causing me to get hard again instantly—not like that’s been a big challenge today. Her moan is, hands down, the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. I kiss her deeper, holding her close to me and feeling her soft curves against my hard body, which only makes me wish we were truly alone and not still at school where anyone could walk up to us. Regardless, I’m going to take full advantage of this moment. My tongue snakes out to slide along the seam of her lips, and they open for me on a gasp.

  I groan a little, kissing her harder, our tongues dancing with each other as if they were always made to do this. I’ve never wanted anyone this badly before, and it should probably weird me out that it’s my best friend who’s making me feel this way. But it doesn’t. Everything about Paige pressed against me feels right.

  The bell rings loudly, trilling along the hall and signaling that I’m likely going to be late for my next class. Paige pulls away, and I take great pleasure when I notice her eyes are dazed and slightly glassy and her perfect pink lips are plump and wet. She l
ooks perfect. A smile breaks across her gorgeous face, and I can’t help matching it with a big smile of my own.

  “Pick me up after you get out of football practice. See you tonight.” Paige gets on her tiptoes and kisses me briefly—too briefly—on the lips before she rushes to her next class.

  I lean against the wall and take a deep breath, not caring in the slightest that I’m going to be late for class.

  I just kissed Paige, and she kissed me back.

  I’ve kissed a girl before—Jenny Blake at a football party my freshman year—but it was never like that. Even the brief kiss I gave Paige in seventh grade just to see what it was like doesn’t compare to what just happened.

  The problem is now all I can think about is how badly I want to kiss her again, which is going to make the rest of the day away from her absolute torture. I turn and walk down the hall toward my next class, not even bothering to hide the smile glued to my face.

  THREE

  Jack should be here any minute, and I’m sitting in my room like a nervous wreck, fidgeting with my backpack strap as I relive our kiss in the hallway in glorious technicolored detail. The way his lips caressed mine and then the brush of his tongue into my mouth. My skin prickles, my nerve endings lighting up across my arms simply thinking about how amazing that kiss was.