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Jab. Jab. Right hook.
I recite it over and over again as Gray has me perform the same sequence in rapid succession. But then he drops the pads and smiles at me.
“Okay, come on,” he says, tilting his head toward the ring behind us. “Let’s spar.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me into the cushioned area, a wide smile on his face.
“Try to hit me.”
I grin and dive toward him, aiming straight for his face, but he moves out of the way easily and I almost lose my footing. I glare at him and try again, but he keeps evading me with such ease that it angers me.
“Damn it, Gray!”
I look at him through narrowed eyes and try to trick him by moving in one direction and then jumping in the other. I manage to catch him off guard, and he loses his balance. I grin, but my smile is wiped off my face when he takes me with him as he falls back onto the thick cushions. He laughs and turns us over, his body on top of mine.
He looks into my eyes, the smile melting off his face. I feel him harden against me and I gulp. His eyes drop to my lips, and my breathing quickens. He tilts his head ever so slightly, and I lean in just a touch closer.
One taste. That’s all I want.
Just as I’ve decided I want to find out whether he tastes like the peppermint I can smell on him, a song starts to play.
Gray freezes and drops his forehead to mine. “The system is hooked up to my phone. Noah is calling,” he tells me, his eyes filled with guilt.
I nod, and he pushes away from me, pulling me up with him. “I, um… I have some work to finish anyway,” I say.
I walk away as I hear Gray say “Answer call.”
I hear my brother’s voice as I slip out of the door, and the guilt I feel nearly wrecks me. Gray is Noah’s best friend… he’s someone we’ve both always considered family. What am I doing? What am I even thinking?
35
Aria
Gray walks into the kitchen, a smile spreading across his face when he sees the poached eggs I made for breakfast. My eyes roam over his body, taking in the formal suit he’s wearing. Every Sunday he dresses up, and I’m pretty sure it’s a woman he’s meeting, even though he tells me he rarely dates. The care he puts into his appearance on Sundays… it’s not at all the same as during weekdays.
“Morning,” he says, and I smile at him, a little flustered. I’ve avoided him after yesterday’s boxing session, and thankfully, he’s let me.
“Nightmares?” he asks, and I blush involuntarily. I couldn’t sleep last night, because I kept wondering if he might show up in my room. My mind kept replaying the way he touched me, the way his lips almost touched mine. I don’t know how much of my dream was real, but I have a feeling I might have touched him as much as I dreamt I did.
“None.” I shake my head as I hand him a fork. “You look good,” I tell him, my eyes roaming over his suit. He glances down at his shirt and smiles.
“Ah… you like me in a suit, huh?”
I blush. I can’t help it. “I mean… it’s a nice suit. Even if it’s on you.”
Gray laughs and shakes his head. “I’m wounded.”
“You’ll get over it.”
He looks into my eyes, a sweet smile on his face. “Oh, but babe, what if I don’t?” he says, his voice soft. He looks away, shaking his head.
Every once in a while I’m certain Gray is flirting with me… but he can’t be, can he? I’m scared I’m misunderstanding him the way I did Brad. I’m starting to want things I shouldn’t even be thinking about, and I’m scared I’m reading too much into things. I’m scared of hoping for more.
Gray takes a couple of bites of his food and then pushes the plate away. “I gotta run,” he says. “Will you save this for me? I’ll eat it later.”
I can’t help but wonder where he’s going, but I know I don’t have the right to ask. I’m already intruding on his privacy by being here. I can’t question him about his whereabouts. My stomach clenches in what I can only describe as jealousy as dozens of scenarios run through my mind.
“Hot date?” I ask, unable to help myself. I don’t know why I do this. Why do I ask questions I don’t want to know the answer to? A man like Gray must be dating, even if it’s just casually.
