All The Wild Ones | Wildfire Series

A Sign

GRAYSON

Lillian Laurent was raised by two French parents on the outskirts of New York City, and even though she'd lived in America for her entire life, there was a little bit of France in everything she did. In everything that she was.

After graduating from a private bilingual school in the city, she sought to escape the east coast and took off for the Rocky Mountains. There was no way she'd known what she was getting herself into when she signed up for that whitewater rafting excursion; I would have loved to see her expression when she saw that little inflatable raft and the Colorado River rapids.

There was also no way she'd expected to start pining over her rafting instructor, Grace Everett.

But that was how the story went. After they met on the Colorado River, Grace and Lillian were inseparable.

I didn't really care to know the specifics. Like really didn't care to know. The only thing that mattered was that a whitewater rafting adventure landed me with one adrenaline junkie, granola mom, and a sharp-tongued, bright-eyed maman.

And all I could think about right now as I watched the two of them tango in the kitchen, cooking up some dish I couldn't pronounce, was that they would absolutely love Nessa Elez.

Goddamn, if that didn't mean there was something wrong with me.

"Earth to Gray!"

I gave my head a shake, glancing up into my mom's green eyes. She waved a cucumber at me, and I snatched it out of her hands to slice it up.

"Sorry," I muttered. "Just a lot on my mind."

There definitely was. And even though Nessa currently consumed a lot of my thoughts, it went beyond her and the text conversation we had last night.

Maman paused her stirring. Her icy blonde hair had curled around the edges of her face from bending over the steamy pot, and she pushed it back.

"Did something come up at your doctor's appointment?"

I grimaced, waiting for the onslaught of questions that always followed an appointment with my cardiologist, Dr. Martinez. Maman stared at me expectantly, and I knew today would be no different.

A shake of my head. "No."

Nothing beyond the usual shit, anyway. But visiting the clinic always put me in a mood. I didn't really know how to describe it, but there was something about being reminded of your mortality that really set the tone.

"Thank goodness football season is over," Mom said with a sigh. "That's all I have to say."

I pursed my lips, hating that one of my favorite things in the world caused her—both of them, really—so much stress. They barely ever watched my games because of it.

"Football season was fine. I'm fine. It's all fine, mom," I grunted.

"And what did Dr. Martinez say about next football season?" Maman asked, her body still stiff even though she'd continued to stir the sauce or whatever was in the pot.

I focused on slicing cucumber, trying to keep the edge out of my voice as we broached my least favorite topic. "Dr. Martinez didn't say anything about next football season because that's like nine months from now, and I'll see her at least five more times before then."

One of them gave a little sniff, and I could guess who.

"I'm heading over to Brodie's tonight after dinner," I said to switch the topic. "He invited a few guys from the team over."