“Still too prideful for your own good, I see.”
My head snapped back, and I balled my hands into tight fists. “This has nothing to do with pride and everything to do with common sense. You haven’t even seen my business plan yet. What if it’s shit?”
“Not possible.” He sounded hurt, and I felt like a bitch. “I’d be a silent investor.”
“You don’t even know if I’m a good businesswoman. Or a good baker.”
He scoffed. “I was your taste tester for years. I’m the best person in the world to judge if you can bake or not. And if you remember, I’ve also been eating all your baking on the show.”
I stepped to the side and grabbed the plate of cookies from the nightstand. I’d taken them with me from the set. “Then try one of the cookies that got me eliminated. They can’t be that good if they got me kicked out.”
He put his hands on his hips, looking exasperated. Good, because that was how I felt too. “I don’t need to try them to know they’re good.”
I lifted the plate higher. “Eat one.”
“We’re not done talking,” he ground out.
He still knew all my tricks. I used to shut him up with food all the time. And it used to work beautifully. Guess he’d figured it out.
“Oh yes we are. Now take the cookie.”
He continued to pace the room like a caged lion. “Later. I already told you I know they’re good.”
“Not just good. Amazing.”
“I don’t want your cookies.” He stopped. “I want to talk about this.”
I put the plate down and threw up my hands. “Well, then don’t eat them. I don’t care if you miss out on the best cookie you’ll ever taste.”
With a growl, he grabbed one of the cookies and put it in his mouth. His jaw muscles worked overtime while he chewed, his eyes glaring daggers at me the whole time. “They’re great.” He sounded anything but happy about it.
“Excellent.” I ground my teeth, my words clipped. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a shower to wash all this makeup off me and then get on the road.”
I didn’t look back when I walked to the bathroom, my heart squeezing painfully in my chest.
“So you’re not even going to say good-bye?”
Looking back over my shoulder, I shot him a forced smile. “Good-bye, Grayson.”
His face fell and his voice went quiet. “Good-bye, Rayna.”
I made it to the bathroom and closed the door just in time for my legs to give out and sink to the floor. The shower did nothing to make me feel better. Silent tears tracked down my face, only to be washed away by the water.
After spending too much time feeling sorry for myself, I got my emotions under control and dragged my tired body out of the shower. My hair was a mess and needed a brush, but I didn’t care. And I’d packed up my toiletries already, anyway.
I wanted to crawl under the covers and sleep. But I wouldn’t allow myself the luxury. Going home was the best thing right now. I needed to be surrounded by familiar people and my bakery.
It had been my safe haven for years, and I hoped it still would be. I’d survived the past five years without seeing Grayson. What would be another five to a lifetime?
I wrapped the towel around me, leaving the safety of the bathroom.
“I love your cookies. But that’s always been the problem.”
The rough voice made me jump and nearly drop my towel. I had never been able to figure out how to knot it tight enough that it would stay on. Since I thought I was alone in my hotel room, modesty hadn’t been high on my agenda when I’d haphazardly wrapped the towel around me.
Grayson was sitting on my bed, elbows resting on his thighs, head in his palms.
My hands twitched with the need to comfort him. But I was out of my depth. Didn’t understand this roller coaster of emotions.
