Other than my parents, no one had ever known that I drew or painted. Which meant, now only my dad knew. Well...he’dknown. It was made clear when he’d first found out that I’d needed to put an end to it. But it was something special for my mom and me, so we’d continued whenever training hadn’t been taking place.
Just another weakness to hide from my dad and brothers.
And now, someone was standing in the middle of it. Not just someone, butHudson Gray. The owner and destroyer of my heart.
“Have I gotten it wrong all these years?” he asked as those pale eyes swung my way again. “Are you really a Disney princess instead?”
“Don’t start,” I said in warning, but he continued as if I’d never said anything.
“Should I change your name to Rapunzel?”
I had no idea what Rapunzel and Disney princesses had to do with my walls, and nearly asked howhe did, before remembering who I was talking to. This was Gray...the man who’d come back to Dallas more times than I could remember with lingering glitter and messily applied nail polish from the tea parties his little nieces had roped him into over the years.
If my walls reminded him of Rapunzel, he was probably right.
Still, I hated the nicknames he’d always been quick to dole out. I hated that he was seeing this part of me and likening it to a fictionalprincess, once again connecting me to something I’d always been told was weak.
My jaw clenched, earning a brief, bright smile from him and a flash of those infuriating dimples. When it fell, he explained, “I couldn’t sleep.”
“That’s nice.”
“We need to talk.”
My heart wrenched in response because that was all I wanted to do—curl up on a couch and share pieces of myself with him that I’d kept hidden from everyone else. But this wasn’t before, everything had changed, and I was still so sure I wouldn’t make it through a one-on-one with this man without breaking down.
“We really don’t,” I said stubbornly.
A disbelieving huff bled from him as he turned fully toward me. “I can think of four other people who don’t agree with that.” The side of his face scrunched up—an action that really shouldn’t look as attractive as it did on him. “Maybe only three. Not sure if Evans cares about anything these days.”
With a quick scan around my condo, he walked over to the kitchen nook and sank into one of the chairs at my small table, talking as he did. “More importantly, the future of our jobs doesn’t agree. And I really don’t feel like losing my job or being chained to a desk.”
“You sit at a desk every day,” I reminded him.
“But it’s only half my job,” he countered as he started pulling foil-wrapped tacos out of the bag.
“Please,” I began, my tone dripping with dry sarcasm, “make yourself at home.”
He glanced my way and slowly raised one eyebrow. “I will. Thanks.”
A bitter, disbelieving laugh tumbled past my lips as I demanded, “Leave, Gray. What makes you think you can just show up here?”
“Every single time you’ve shown up at my place unannounced,” he said without hesitation, as if he’d been prepared for this argument. He twisted in the seat and leaned toward me, frustration lining his handsome face. “In the six-or-so years you’ve lived in Texas, I’ve never once asked what you were doing or told you to leave when you showed up at my apartment. But I’ve never been allowed past your front door.”
“For good reason,” I claimed.
“What reason?” Gray ground out, then gestured to the wall behind him, painted with random nothings, dreams, and memories, just as the rest. “This?”
“Because this is myspace.”
“And my apartment isn’tmine?” he countered on an exasperated laugh, then leaned back and dragged his hands over his face. “Mallory, what is this?”
I stiffened at the sound of my name leaving him for the second time tonight.
He never called me Mallory.
But before I could get caught on why he suddenly was or what exactly the feeling was in my chest and stomach, he continued.
“You need to help me out here, because I don’t know why you’ve been this stranger at Shadow, and a ghost outside of it. And, even though you’re actingsomewhatlike your normal self now, I don’t know why you’re standing there, trying to shut me out and spouting these hypocritical statements like they’re a hill you’re ready to die on, when that’s never been you.” He presseda hand to his chest before halfheartedly tossing it to the side. “I don’t know why you’re taking Aruba out on me.”
