“He will, eventually. Right now, I’m more focused on keeping him away from the spotlight.”
“For how long?” I wonder out loud. “Kids his age need friends to learn how to socialize. He’s already far too mature for his age. His speech patterns give it away.”
Grayson’s jaw tightens. “He’ll be fine.”
It’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about it. And it’s not like Ethan is my child. I have no right to comment on his upbringing. So I decide to change the subject. “What about my car?”
“My mechanic took a look at it,” Grayson says now, turning his attention toward me. “It was on its last leg anyway.”
I stare at him. “What do you mean, last leg?”
“You’ll have it back tomorrow, but I’m not sure you want it. The engine is held together by prayers and stubbornness.” He leans back in his chair, casual, like he didn’t just tell me my only means of transportation is dead. “The transmission is almost shot. The brakes are worn down to practically nothing. My mechanic said it’s a miracle you made it this far without it exploding on you.”
“It’s been perfectly fine so far,” I scoff. “And cars don’t explode like that.”
“That car is a safety hazard.” His brows knit together.
“That car is paid off,” I snap irritably. “Which is more than I can say for a new one.”
“So buy a new one.” He shrugs like it’s the simplest thing in the world, like I just need to reach into a drawer somewhere and pull out a car.
I give him a long, flat look. “Do you even know what it means to be broke? Actually broke? Not I-forgot-my-wallet broke. Not I-only-have-fifty-dollars-in-my-account broke. I mean drowning-in-debt, counting-every-cent, eating-cereal-for-dinner broke?”
He has the grace to look slightly uncomfortable.
“Because I cannot buy a new car, Grayson. I cannot buy a new anything. Every dollar I make goes straight toward interest payments that barely move the needle on what I actually owe.” I keep my voice down. “So when you tell me to just buy another car, what I hear is that you have absolutely no concept of my actual life.”
“Which is exactly why I already told you I’ll front you the money,” he says tensely. “I don’t mind. You know I don’t.”
“And I already told you no.”
“Miranda—”
“No.” I hold up a hand. “I’m not going to be in debt to you. I’ve said this to you before.”
His jaw shifts. “It’s not debt if I’m not asking for it back.”
“Then it’s charity, which is worse.” I cross my arms. “And after your little stunt in the locker room, that is absolutely never going to happen.”
Guilt flickers in his expression. “You can’t be serious. I was just teasing you.”
“You had me pinned against a locker.”
“You walked in on me naked. I was just messing around.”
“I don’t mess around like that.” My tone is harsh. “I don’t know what type of woman you think I am, but I’m not going to be an easy lay.”
“I never said you would be.” He raises a brow.
I press my lips together. “You are getting much too involved in my life, and I don’t like it.”
If I thought he would get offended, I’m proven wrong. His lips curve. “I get the feeling you don’t like a lot of things.”
I point a finger at him. “Don’t. Don’t you dare smile right now.”
He schools his expression into what should be seriousness but still somehow manages to look insufferably smug. “What’syour plan then? Since you’ve rejected every option I’ve put on the table.”
“I have a plan.”
