Her voice is low when it comes. “What the hell was that?”
I open my mouth, but nothing actually useful comes to mind. It’s all just a cacophony in my own head ofI fucked up, I crossed the line again, I lost my temper, I shouldn’t have done that.
Behind her, Maddox barks at somebody to move their ass.
She scoffs in irritation, her gaze shifting to the field briefly, but it looks like she’s somewhere entirely different in her head.“You’re doing a real good job keeping this professional.”
Chapter 17
Carly
Ten Weeks
AvoidingGrayson Sparkks in his own house is, apparently, harder than it should be when the house is the size of a small hotel. He somehow still manages to feel like he’s everywhere.
After we get back from campus, I keep things clipped and simple. I help Penelope with a craft. I make her lunch. I answer her ten thousand questions about whether penguins have knees and whether her dad could beat a bear in a race. And I do not, under any circumstances, look at Grayson unless I absolutely have to.
He doesn’t pushwhile Penelope is around.He’s quiet through dinner, far more than usual. He’s still good with Penelope, still beams at her like everything is fine, but he doesn’t talk to me and I don’t talk to him.
The kiss keeps replaying anyway.Not the first one, no, that one’s pretty much been eclipsed by today’s.
I can’t stop thinking about the hard, irritated pressure of his mouth on mine, the way he’d grabbed my face in a singularhand, the way it felt less like romance and more like he was furious with the whole world and my lips would somehow fix it.
And then there was that utterly stupid, angering look on his face after, as if he had no idea why he’d done it either.
By the time Penelope is bathed, in pajamas, read to, and finally asleep, I’m wound tight enough to snap.I leave her room quietly, pulling the door almost closed behind me, and walk back toward my own room, hoping I can slip in without having to face him again tonight.
But luck is not on my side and god is not forgiving.
Across from my room, standing just outside his office with one hand braced on the doorframe like he’s been waiting for me, Grayson stands like he’s trying to take up space.
My pulse jumps so hard it gives me a palpitation.
For one idiotic second, I think maybe he’s going to apologize, maybe he’s going to man up and realize that his head is clearly all over the place.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he rasps, turning just enough to look me dead on.
I stop. Right, okay. This must be how I lose my job and the roof over my head. But if he thinks I won’t go down swinging, he’s entirely incorrect.“Myproblem?”
“Yes,yourproblem.” He pushes fully off the frame, eyes locked on mine. “You’ve been acting like I slaughter puppies in my spare time since the field.”
I laugh, short and disbelieving. “Are you serious right now?"
He folds his arms over his chest.Fuck.His biceps flex and my brain, apparently deeply unaware that he’s being an asshole, notices immediately.
“Very.”
I stare at him, hoping it’ll sink in for him, hoping he isn’t nearly as thick as he seems right now. “You kissed me, Grayson.”
His jaw ticks. “I’m aware.”
“Oh, good. Amazing. I just wanted to make sure we were working with the same incredibly deranged fact.”
He exhales hard through his nose, like my tone is the real issue here. “It was a kiss.”
I blink at him in utter befuddlement. “You do hear yourself, right?”
He says nothing, so I keep going, because now I’m angry enough to stop being careful.
