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“You can add it to my daddy’s account,” Charlotte says, meeting my eyes.
“Nonsense, I got it.” Grayson hands over his credit card, and I take it. Then, swiping it with no issue, I hand it back to him. He doesn’t thank me, but she does as he grabs both dresses, and they exit the shop.
Grayson doesn’t look back, and she yells her thanks, but her eyes stay on him.
My stare remains fixed on the door even after it closes. My body wants to run over and lock the door, yet I stare at it, unsure what to do.
“Avani.” I turn around as one of the other sales associates walks out of the back. “You good to close? I’m gonna head out.” I wave her off as she takes the back exit.
After switching the lights off, I walk over to lock the front door when it pushes open and Grayson stalks in. I step back, and then he locks the door behind him.
“Grayson, you need to leave.”
His hands slide into his pockets as he stares at me. I hate how he stares at me, assessing and studying me as if he knows every thought in my damn head.
“That’s not going to happen.” He smirks.
“You knew where I was?” I ask. “How?”
“Those men you met, the Hunters, they can find anyone. Granted, I didn’t know you worked here, but I did plan to find you.”
“Why? Why would you want to find someone who left you?”
He walks around me, almost stalking me.
“Why did you run?” Grayson asks, and I bite my lip. “Tell me the truth, Avani. Why. Did. You. Run?” He uses a much more forceful voice, enunciating every word.
“I’m used to running. It’s what I do.”
“You’ve lasted almost a year here. And longer when you were with my brother,” he points out. “So why did you run from me?”
“I hate the way you make me feel,” I admit, and it hurts to even talk about this with him. On the other hand, I don’t know why I’m even entertaining this discussion.
Grayson nods his head as his tongue slides across his teeth. “Did that sting as it left your sweet mouth?”His brow raises.
“Are you getting engaged?” I ask, pointing out the obvious. “Seems you didn’t have trouble moving on.”
“Is that…” he pauses and leans in, “jealousy I detect?”
“No!” I scoff, turning away from him. I head to the back room to collect my things, and he follows. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“Do you not want my answer?” he asks.
I shake my head without thought. “I’m not sure I do.”My hand lands on the locker, and he steps up behind me, his front hitting my back as he consumes the space around me.
“You do. And no,I am not asking her to marry me.” I go to spin around, but he pushes me forward, my front hitting the lockers as his mouth hovers over my ear. “If I was to marry anyone, it would be you.”
I suck in a breath and close my eyes as I feel him move away from me. Resting my forehead against the locker, it takes me a bit of time to gather my thoughts. When I do, I turn around to find he’s no longer there. I hear the door shut and know he’s left.
Now I have to pull myself together enough to get myself home.
He talked of marrying me as if it was something he had thought about and could be done so easily.
I don’t even want marriage.
I never have after what happened to me growing up. Getting married was never an idea that popped into my head like most young girls dream of their future husband. I dreamed of being free and living my own life, without having a haunted past.
So why did my body warm with a welcome feeling when he mentioned it?
