He shuts down.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps, taking a step back immediately.
The words hit me like ice water.No. No, no, no. Say something, Carly.
Nothing comes out.
His jaw twitches as he watches me, the sound of the pool cover clicking shut behind him. “That won’t happen again.”
I still can’t get my brain to work.My mouth opens and closes like a fucking fish.
He gives one short nod like a man finalizing a business decision.“I’d prefer to keep this professional,” he says, the words heavy and absolute.
The sentence lands like a slap.All the warmth drains right out of me.Oh.Oh, fantastic.
So he kisses me, I react like a malfunctioning electric toy, and now I get to be informed that he’d prefer professionalism, as if I’m the one who launched myself at his face.
I fold my arms because if I don’t, I might actually burst into flames from humiliation. “Yeah. Of course.”
His eyes flick to mine, and for the first time since I met him, I can’t read him atall.
“Good,” he says.
I nod once because speaking would probably make me either cry or vomit.“Anything else?” I ask, and I hate how flat my voice sounds.
A muscle jumps in his neck. “No. That’s the house.”
Great. Amazing tour. Five stars. Included luxury amenities, emotional whiplash, and one spontaneous mouth-to-mouth humiliation.
The walk back inside is a blur of polished floors and suffocating silence. Grayson keeps a careful distance, and I hate how obvious the space between us feels now, like I have to pretend that what happened didn’t, like my lips aren’t still burning, like I didn’t just get kissed by my terrifyingly attractive boss and then politely informed that professionalism is his preference.
By the time my bedroom door closes behind me at last, I want to crawl directly into the bed and never get out of it.My sad little belongings now sit scattered around it in a way that somehow makes them look even smaller.
I set my bags on the bed and stand there for a second, staring at the boxes like maybe one of them contains a replacement brain that doesn’t remember what happened by the pool.
I drop onto the bed and slip my phone out of my pocket.
This is probably how I’ll hit an even harder rock bottom.Fired from being a nanny on day one for being weird after accidentally throwing myself at my boss in a moment of weakness, and then fired from Sparkks Sports because ofinappropriate behavior outside of work.
I scroll through my apps and open a property search app.My thumb hovers over the search bar. I’ve done this a million times since Aaron kicked me out, but I could check again.Shouldcheck again.
Boulder rentals. One bed. One bath. White goods included.
I start scrolling.
Everything is either offensively expensive, suspiciously damp-looking, or somehow both. One place appears to have a shower directly in the kitchen. Another proudly advertises cozy dimensions, which is landlord code for you can probably cook dinner from your bed.
Still, I keep looking.
Because what else am I supposed to do? Wait here for Grayson Sparkks to knock on my door and tell me he’s made a terrible error in judgment, thank me for my time, and tell me to please collect my lamp and the scraps of my pride and vacate the secondary master suite?
Outside my bedroom door, the house is silent, and somewhere in it is Grayson, probably regretting every single decision that led to me ending up here.
Chapter 11
Grayson
I’m halfwayacross town on the way to Halsey’s place when Maddox answers on the third ring.
