He was right...painting aside, I’d always shared everything with him. He knew me better than anyone ever had. Honestly, now that Gray was in here, surrounded by it all, it didn’t feel like enough that I hadn’t wanted him to see one of my weaknesses, because that’s all this was.
But I guess when you’re raised to not have any weaknesses, it’s hard to reveal the ones you’ve always hidden—even if it’s to your best friend and the owner of your heart.
When I heard Gray walking back toward me, I admitted, “It isn’t a practical skill. It doesn’t serve to help build character or strengthen me or protect anyone.” I gently lifted a shoulder as I reached out to trace the grains in the wood. “And it’s a waste of time.”
“Your dad?” he assumed, as if he knew my dad at all. Then again, Gray had heard me quote my dad plenty throughout the years.
I nodded but didn’t respond otherwise.
Dropping to a crouch in front of me, he gave me that smile that had always felt likeminebecause I’d never seen him offer it to anyone else. Soft and easy, his dimples just barely whispering ahello. “As always, I’m happy to be the one to tell you, your dad’s the worst.”
A humming confirmation rose in my throat because I’d become well aware of this throughout my time with the team. But I forced myself not to let Gray’s words lead me back down the road I’d already been on multiple times today. I didn’t need the jarring reminder that my entire family was beyond dysfunctional—me included.
“And this?” Gray continued, gesturing to the adjoining walls near us and following the movement with his eyes before focusing on me. “Monroe, that’s talent you shouldn’t be ashamed of.”
“Okay, enough about that,” I said, needing to move on from something that had always felt like a deep, dark secret. Something that had always been a release and had brought so much shame. “Are you leaving yet?”
He hesitated for a moment before saying, “I don’t think so,” and rising to his full height.
“And why not?” I asked as I stood to follow when he started toward my living room.
He abruptly turned, bringing us inches apart and causing that energy between us to pulse. “Because I only have two weeks,” he said softly. “So, no, Peach. I’m not leaving.”
I swayed a little when he continued toward my living room before straightening my spine and asking, “Then is your plan to hole up here for the full two weeks?”
“And if it is?” he challenged as he dropped onto the sectional, his expression shifting from that arrogant tease to open shock when he landed on the soft surface.
“What is—did I just fall into a cloud?” he asked, almost sounding like he was talking to himself until he added, “And why do you have a couch big enough for twelve people if no one’s allowed here?”
My eyes rolled as I followed him into the room and sat on an oversized, plush chair. I liked comfortable furniture.
He eyed me for long moments before meaningfully looking at the massive sectional. “You’re right...you definitely wouldn’t have fit on here.”
“Shut up,” I whispered, the words coming out on a reluctant laugh.
That soft smile—my smile—tugged at his mouth before he relaxed against the cushions. “Yes.” At my questioning hum, he explained, “I’m gonna hole up here for the next two weeks because I’ve decided I’m never leaving this couch.”
“It is a pretty great couch,” I admitted instead of firing back with something about how he needed to leave.
I knew he would . . . eventually.
“What were you planning on doing?” he asked. “Other than dating preppy Davis.”
I studied the narrowing of his eyes and the darkness that passed through them at the statement he’d added on like an afterthought, then finally shrugged. “Start looking for jobs.”
Just like that, panic replaced everything else before he managed an unaffected nod. “Would you stay here? In Texas?”
“Where else would I go?”
“I don’t know, Mallory, I wouldn’t have thought you’d leave Shadow at all,” he countered just as quickly.
I don’t want to leave Shadow.
I forced back the thought and the emotion that came with it and asked, “Does it matter if I get a job somewhere else? And what does it matter if I leave Shadow?” Venom laced the last question. “You said yourself that you were going to do whatever it took to make sure I didn’t lose my job, even if it meant you did.” I gestured to him before letting my hand slap onto my thigh. “Which means, you would’ve been gone. So,what does it matter?”
He seemed to consider the best way to word his response before answering, “Because if I step away from Shadow, I won’t actually go anywhere.” He lifted a shoulder, then sat forward so his hands were clasped between his knees and his pale eyes were faraway. “My family’s close, so I see them often, and this is where I belong. But you?” His jaw shifted irritably before thatstare snapped to me. “I have a feeling if it’s you, you’re not just gonna step away from Shadow, you’re gonnaleave.”
My lungs strained and my heart did terrible, reckless things as I waited to see if he would finish that thought. When he didn’t, I prompted, “That doesn’t answer my question.”
