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Gray was feeling odd.
He didn’t quite understand what this feeling was . . . it made him feel light. He’d never felt light in his life.
What the fuck was going on? He’d whistled. He never whistled. Did he know how to whistle? Apparently, he did.
And sometimes, his lips turned up in a smile.
Okay, he needed to do something about this, because it was disturbing. He shook his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. About how she didn’t have a decent jacket. What if she didn’t have enough clothing for the coming colder months? What if she couldn’t heat that chilly place she lived in?
And gloves. She definitely needed a decent pair of gloves. Her hands were freezing. And her feet.
Okay, stop thinking about Maeve.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
Booty. Call.
But his lips were twisting up in another smile as he thought of her eating that pile of pancakes, her mouth sticky with syrup.
Fuck. All the guys were looking at him strangely. They were going to start to think he was dying of some strange disease or something.
Sometimes he thought he might be.
He ran his hand over his face, pulling out his phone as it buzzed. His eyebrows rose and this happy feeling filled him as he saw it was from Maeve.
She’d never texted him. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been waiting for this. For her to reach out.
Maeve:Thanks for the flowers.
He frowned.Okay, that was not what he’d been expecting.
And what flowers?
Who the fuck was sending her flowers?
Anger filled him and he had to take a moment to calm himself. She wasn’t his. Although she better not be fucking someone else while she was fucking him. That was not their agreement.
Gray:What flowers?
He waitedfor what seemed like forever for her to reply. Finally, his phone buzzed.
Maeve:Sorry. Got it wrong.
Nope.No. Who sent them?
Gray:Someone sent you flowers? Who?
Obviously,she doesn’t know who, you shithead. Or she wouldn’t have texted you.
Unless she just thought it was him and hadn’t read the card. Fuck, now he was feeling guilty about not sending her flowers. But why would he?
Booty. Call.
Oh, who you kidding, asshole? You can’t stop thinking about her.
Maeve:I don’t know. No card. Sorry, that was stupid of me for assuming they were from you.
