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Even when you say I’m an asshole. For some reason I find it endearing.
Graham
Graham slammed the laptop shut and glanced at the clock as the front door crashed open.
Either someone was breaking in, which he couldn’t do a damn thing about, or Claire’s date hadn’t gone well. She’d only been gone an hour.
Gertrude barked her tiny head off and darted off the bed and into the hallway.
“Claire?” he called out, placing the laptop on the bedside table. He grabbed one of his crutches to use as a weapon if necessary.
Claire appeared in the doorway with Gertrude under one arm and her purse dangling from the other, loose at her side.
One look at her face and Graham’s hackles rose. He released the crutch and pressed his hands into the mattress, sitting up straighter. “What happened? Are you okay?”
She dropped her purse and pulled Gertrude to the front of her body, burying her face in his dog’s fur. “His girlfriend showed up.”
“Hiswhat?”
“Yeah.” Claire was beside the bed now, and deposited Gertie near his legs. She swiped angrily at her eyes, color high on her cheeks. She still looked achingly beautiful, but he hated seeing her upset. “The bastard apparently has a girlfriend, and she happened to stop by the coffee shop with a friend. She saw us together and asked him who I was.”
Anger burned hot in Graham’s chest. “What an asshole. I’m sorry, Claire.”
She threw up her hands. “Are there no decent men out there?”
“Not many.”
She crossed her arms, the movement pushing her breasts up. His eyes dropped to the cleavage on display, because he was not a decent man.
“Graham.”
His eyes lifted to find a tiny smile on her face. She raised her eyebrows.
He just grinned. “Sorry.”
“Why can’t more men be like you?” she asked.
Graham nearly choked. “Me? We don’t need more of me. I’m fucked up and I was just ogling your breasts while you’re upset. We need more Nathans and Noahs. Those are the kinds of guys women deserve.”
Claire regarded him for a moment, her eyes passing over his face and chest. He couldn’t decide if he wanted her to contradict him or not.
“Hmm,” she said slowly. Thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I agree. You’re not perfect, but you’re a pretty great guy, Graham. Whether you admit it or not.”
He narrowed his eyes. “When you said you went to a coffee shop, did you really mean bar? Are you drunk?”
She shook her head and took another step forward. Before he knew what was happening, she climbed onto the bed and lifted the skirt of her bright yellow dress, straddling his waist.
With effort, he kept his arms at his sides. “What are you doing?”
“I want you, Graham.”
He blinked. “Want me...how?”
Her hazel eyes flashed and she put her hands on his chest, leaning forward. “Do you think if I’m on top and do most of the work, we can...?”
Yesyesyes. “You’re upset and not thinking clearly.”
Her head was shaking before he even finished the sentence. “I’ve wanted to do this long before now.”
