“No. That’s not why I invited you to dinner.End of story.”
He throws my own words back at me, and I hate it. My heart doesn’t get the memo, though, as it beats away erratically at the sliver of attention he finally feeds me. It’s pathetic, really.
“You didn’t invite me to dinner,” I whisper, stretching my neck. His nose grazes my ear, and I hiss out a breath. Just one touch has my body singing to life.
“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you to be.”
I roll my eyes, turning my head away from him. “Didn’t feel like it,” I mumble under my breath.
A wet hand finds my chin, turning me to face him. “What was that?”
I look him dead in the eyes. “Don’t pretend you didn’t hate every moment of my presence here tonight. You wouldn’t even look at me, Grayson. I’m only here because you couldn’t tell Nova no.”
He sighs, looking between my eyes. “Maisie…”
“What?” I breathe.
He shakes his head dropping my chin to look at the ground. “You don’t understand.”
I turn, giving him my back. “Youcan’t, I know. I’ve heard your spiel a million times now. Trust me, I understand. I didn’t know that meant you couldn’t treat me like a human being too. A simple conversation at least would have been nice. I didn’t know that was asking for too much, but I do now.Loud and clear.”
“That’s not… I don’t know what to do here. I don’t know how to act normal around you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I spin, calculating my mistake when it’s too late. His arms are planted on the counter around me, caging me in, our chests almost touching. I gasp when I spot red soaking his jeans. “Grayson, what the fuck?”
“Swear jar!” Nova yells from the kitchen table, playing doctor with her unicorn now.
He slides his hand behind his back. “It’s nothing.”
“There’s blood.” I look around, finding it splattered on the floor. “Everywhere. Are you hurt?” I try looking over his body to find where it’s coming from.
“It’s just a small cut. I’m fine.”
“Show me then.”
“No.”
“No? Grayson…so help me. I’m not above tackling you to the ground.”
His lip tugs up at the corner. “I would love to see you try,” he taunts.
Assuming it’s his hand, since he has it pinned behind his back, I grab his wrist, yanking it forward. I’m horrified when I find a large gash running across the entirety of his palm. “Oh my gosh,” I rush out, finding the nearest towel and applying pressure. It’s pouring blood everywhere. “How did this happen?”
“I cut it in the sink,” he says with a shrug. “It’s no biggie. I’ve had worse.”
I scoff, tightening the pressure on his hand. “No biggie? The sink water is red, Grayson.”
He looks down at the sink, his eyes widening at the mess he’s made. “It got me good,” he jokes.
“What did?”
He points in the water. “The butcher knife in the bottom of the sink.”
“You knew you cut yourself and didn’t say anything? Do you have a death wish?” I pace around, looking for anything to help. “Do you have a first aid kit anywhere?”
He saddles up to me, grabbing my chin with his good hand to stop me. “Maisie, really, I’m fine. It’s just a small cut.” He takes the towel away to show me. Now that a lot of the blood is wiped away, it doesn’t look as bad. “It looks worse than it feels, I promise.”
I nibble my lip, not sure if I should trust him or not. I can’t do nothing, though; that’s not who I am. I’m a caregiver at heart, and no matter how mad I am at him right now, I have to help.
