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“No, I’m not and you don’t need to.” Also, she had to tell him she’d lied about her period. Later. “What about a bra?”
“You’ll be comfier without one.” He helped her put on a hoodie. It was purple with sequins on the front that you could push up to show a smiley face or down to show a frowny face.
She guessed she would be more comfortable without that torture device on.
Underwire bras were the worst.
“Although this one is cute.” He held up the bra on one finger.
Holy. Crap. That wasn’t one of hers. Had Immy bought her a new bra?
“Lie down,” he said, putting the bra away and drawing out some gold-colored yoga pants. She lay back and grabbed Squish, hoping that holding the stuffed toy would make her feel more at ease. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Gray dressing her. It just made her feel . . . vulnerable, maybe. Exposed.
But that’s what this sort of relationship was about, right?
After she was dressed, he tucked her into bed. “Time for a nap.”
“I’m going for an MRI soon.”
“Hmm, true. All right, a nap can wait. Hit the buzzer for the nurse,” he told her as he unlocked the door. “You should be going for your MRI soon.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’s got more important things to do. I don’t want to be a bother.”
He shot her a look, then walked over and reached for the buzzer, hitting it.
“Gray!”
“You’re not a bother. And you need a nap. I can see how exhausted you are.”
The nurse came in. “Everything all right? Did you manage the bathroom all right?”
“I helped her so of course she managed fine,” Gray told her. “When is she going for an MRI? She needs a nap.”
Please let the ground open up and swallow her whole. Please.
The nurse gave her a concerned look. “You do look tired. Let me go see what’s going on.”
When she’d left, Maeve turned to Gray. “I don’t need a nap.”
His eyebrows rose. “The crankiness in your voice says otherwise.”
“I am not cranky!” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Really? You sound and look cranky. And if you’re not cranky because you need a nap, then I’m going to assume there’s some other reason. Want to tell me what?”
“I’m not cranky.”
“Careful, little girl,” he warned. “Or this is going to be number two.”
“Number two what?”
“Punishment.” He tapped his head. “I’m keeping track.”
“What was number one?”
“Trying to get off the bed because you thought you were going to get between me and your friend.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Maybe I do need a nap.”
