Page 32 of Gravity

“No. I’m here with you.” Like my eyes deceive me, I glance over my shoulder only to find Grayson heading out toward the back. “Besides, he’s gone now.”

“Nora. Go. Ryan is here for me to talk to. And even if you don’t get anywhere, at the very least you can try and help push that stick a little more.” She grins, but then her features soon change to a playful glare, telling me with her eyes that I need to do as she says and finally sort this shit out that has been going on too long.

“Fine,” I sigh before I drink the rest of my Margarita in one sweep for a little Dutch courage. “I won’t be long. Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it. You’ll have him in the palm of your hand in no time.”

Notifying Ryan that I need to speak with Grayson, he allows me out the back to his office.

With each step I take, my heart pounds in my chest and my palms begin to sweat, wondering which personality I’m going to be faced with once I invade the privacy of his office.

The door is ajar, and for a moment I watch him through the gap. He stands with his hands resting on either side of the window as he looks out. The moonlight catches his features and the look of distress that shadows his face makes my chest tighten with anxiety. Not for me but for him. I’ve never seen him this way, and it just confirms how much he fights in silence.

I came back here to find out about his behavior toward me, but now I don’t care for that: I just want to know what I can do to help him out of whatever world he’s swallowed up in.

“Grayson?” I murmur, pushing the door open a little more.

Lifting his head to look at me, his eyes scan down my body before they find mine again. “What are you doing back here, Nora?” he turns back to look out of the window, and I take the opportunity to step inside.

“I’ve come to talk with you.”

“I’m busy.”

That word alone ignites something inside of me. It’s his latest excuse—his reason that is more important than friendship.

“Busy. Right. Seems like you’re always busy these days. So busy that you’ve forgotten what you deemed as important in life.”

He remains in position but turns his head to look at me, the expression on his face telling me I’ve hit a nerve, but I don’t care. I have alcohol to thank for that.

“Meaning?”

“I don’t believe this ‘I’m tired’ or ‘I have too much work’ bullshit. That’s just an easy excuse that you hide behind. There’s more going on here, and you know it, and it’s about time you explained yourself rather than making me feel like I’m the one constantly in the fucking wrong.”

“That’s no way to talk to your boss in his office.”

“You’re not officially my boss until Monday, so right now, I’m your Shortcake—the one you claim you take care of, but we all know that’s crap, Grayson. So, I’ll speak to you how I like. What’s the problem here? Like everyone else, are you pissed with the fact Ryan gave me a job?”

He pushes off the wall and steps around the desk, his body language making it evident that he’s trying to control his temper. “I’m not pissed with the fact he’s given you a job, Nora. I rang you, didn’t I? It just would have been nice if he’d consulted with me first that it was you he was hiring.”

“Why, so you could have told him no—have him hire someone else that isn’t me?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“But is it what you’re thinking?”

He drags his eyes away from me and shakes his head, but it’s not in disagreement. In that expression alone, he’s told me that what I’ve said was right. And that makes my body rage with both disappointment and annoyance.

“Jesus, Gray. What have I done that is so wrong here?”

“Nothing. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Bullshit!” I yell.

His blue eyes smolder, his words low and heated. “You’re drunk, Nora. I suggest you leave.”

That’s all it takes for anger to skyrocket. Slamming the door behind me, I take two steps toward him, hoping he sees the hurt brought on by his constant roller coaster persona; hoping he can hear in my tone that I’m tired of the unknown; praying this will not be the end of us and that he will drop these damn barriers and let me in.

“I’m not drunk, Grayson. I’m damn fucking angry, and I am not leaving here until you explain why you’ve suddenly gone from looking out for me to hating me without a reason. It’s the least I deserve for being your precious Shortcake.”