He snorts and shakes his head. “I’m sure it did.”
We gaze at each other for a moment. His light amber eyes roam over every inch of my face before they dip lower to my neck, shoulder, and finally my exposed arms. He reaches forward and delicately traces his thumb over my biceps where my bruises used to be, my skin breaking out in goosebumps with the simple touch.
“They’re all gone now, Grey. No need to keep worrying.” It took them a little over two weeks to fully heal and disappear completely, but still, I find Greyson always looking at my arms like he’s expecting them to show up again.
“Just making sure.” His hand drops as he pushes off the wall. “You want to grab a drink before we head to bed? I haven’t cleaned up down there yet,” he asks quietly.
“You don’t need to clean anything. I can do it. You should rest, you have practice in the morning and a game tomorrow night.”
“I’m not really tired yet. Come on, Bunny. I know you’re going to sneak down for a glass anyway, so why not do it together while we tidy up?” His tongue peeks out and swipes over his bottom lip as I trace the movement with my eyes.
I look away as I feel heat forming deep within me. “Sure, why not?” I play it off and turn away from the door. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about. I do not sneak down for a glass at night.”
“So, the bottle I opened last night for dinner that we didn’t finish magically emptied itself and ended up in the recycling this morning? What about the random half-empty bottle that showed up in the morning on the counter last week?” he asks with a hint of amusement while following me closely down the steps.
“Darn it,” I curse myself as I reach the main floor. “I knew I forgot to put that one away.”
“You can’t hide these things from me, Bunny. I keep a close watch on my wine,” he calls over his shoulder while heading to the wine cellar.
Greyson comes back a few seconds later and pours us a glass each, leaving the bottle open on the island while I tidy up the living room. I store all the toys and rearrange the throw pillows and blankets as he fills the dishwasher, then washes our special mugs by hand.
I’ve bought him a new one every week, and his cheek twitches every time. But he still hasn’t gifted me with that smile I know must be mesmerizing. He now has a growing collection of three, starting with the bunny cup.
The second is a brown poop-shaped mug that reads, ‘Coffee makes me poop’. And the one I got him last week has a red and black flannel shirt printed on the ceramic, with a bare muscular arm sticking out as the handle. The front of the shirt is open, showing chest hair and a message that says, ‘Channel the flannel’.
They don’t have any real meaning behind them, but I found them pretty funny while I was browsing online. Despite Greyson seeming annoyed with my antics, he uses them daily.I know he secretly likes them.
I finish folding the blanket in my hands and bend to place it in the basket beside the couch when I feel his presence behind me. The brush of his fingers against my bare skin catches me off guard, and a silent gasp slips from my lips as I stay in my position, frozen by his touch.
“What is this?” His finger delicately pushes against the fabric of my dress on the side of my rib cage, exposing more of my naked back.
Ever since Grey found me in my retro dress, he’s been encouraging me to wear more. He even goes as far as takingone out of my closet and placing it on my bed while I’m in the shower. It’s strange, but also really thoughtful of him.
I still don’t wear any in public, but around the house I let loose, feeling free in my own skin for once. I also enjoy the way Greyson’s eyes settle on me more often with that intrigued look when I wear them.
Today I put on a checkered beige and white halter-neck retro dress with three big white buttons on the front and a knee-length flaring skirt. A heart-shaped neckline sits on my chest, with two straps tied behind my neck, showing off my upper back down to below my arms.
“I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” Once he’s uncovered my hidden art, he traces the outline of the tiny sunflower that I always keep hidden.
The only people who know it exists are Cecilia and those who have seen me naked. And when I go swimming, I make sure the back strap is wide enough to hide it. Not even my parents know about it. I don’t even want to think of how my mother would react if she ever found out. Having tattoos, to her, is viewed as disgraceful, whatever the hell that means.
He puts my dress back in its place once he’s done with his examination and places his hands on my waist, spinning me to him. His eyes bore into mine as he keeps me in his hold. “Why do I feel like I don’t really know you?” he whispers.
“I keep asking myself the same question,” I answer as he responds with a hum.
Time eclipses as we watch one another, as if a simple look could divulge all our secrets. We’ve been having more of these moments, moments we don’t seem to understand.Moments I find myself craving with each passing day.
But I know I shouldn’t. My breakup happened only a month ago, and as over as I am with Tommy, jumping into anotherrelationship or whatever this is between us isn’t the answer. I need to focus on myself, that’s what I should be doing.
“How about we change that? You tell me things I don’t know about you, and I do the same,” I say on a whim. I might not be ready to explore a new connection, but I definitely won’t pass up the chance to learn more about Greyson.
He seems hesitant for a second but finally nods. His curiosity regarding me wins the battle. We make our way to the kitchen and settle down next to each other. I turn in my seat to face him as he does the same and reaches out to grab our wine glasses, passing one to me while he takes his first sip.
“So, what do you want to know? I can see your eyes sparkling with questions.” He lifts a brow and sets his drink down.
There are a lot of things I want to know about Greyson, but there’s one thing in particular I’ve been dying to know. Something he hasn’t talked about. “Tell me about Gracie’s mom.”
His gaze drops from mine as he sighs loudly. “Her name was Stephanie. She was struggling with depression and took her own life. It’s how I got Gracie. I didn’t even know she had a baby, let alone that she was pregnant. She left a note with Gracie saying I was her father.”
