“Maybe he sold the program and took off with the money,” Misha suggests, shrugging.
I watch as Grey’s frustration mounts, his fingers flying over the keyboard with increasing intensity. After a while, he lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t find a hint of it.”
“We should get home and work from there,” Oliver says, his worry for Grey is obvious. Now that I’m paying closer attention, there are dark circles under Grey’s eyes.
Is he not feeling well? Why haven’t I noticed before?
God, I’m such a bad girlfriend.
“Or we’ll try again tomorrow,” Misha offers. “Let’s do something chill tonight so Grey won’t get an ulcer.” His eyes flick to me, silently asking for help. I smile and nod, stepping up behind Grey. My hands find his tense shoulders, and I start to massage them. Almost immediately, I feel him relax under my touch. Misha’s voice is soft as he tells me, “Grey’s been on it night and day, trying to figure out who took from you.”
For me?
I lean in and push Grey’s hair out of the way to kiss his temple. “It’s fine,” I whisper in his ear. “It’s okay to take a day or two off. There isn’t even a release date yet. It’s not worth working yourself ragged over it.”
Grey turns in his chair to face me, his hands finding my hips and pulling me between his legs. “It is,” he insists, his eyes intense. “You’re worth everything. It’s your project of a lifetime. It will revolutionize everything. I’m so proud of you, and I won’t let anyone take that moment from you.”
He’s proud of me.
My heart swells at his words as I sit in his lap and kiss him softly. “Thank you,” I murmur against his lips. “But I won’t let the stress over my work, which is only work, let you burn out. You’re way more important than that project.”
He furrows his brow, looking at me skeptically. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” I say firmly. “All of you are way more important than any work could ever be.”
He kisses me again, sighing as he pulls away. “I haven’t been out for a walk in a while now. How about we get some fresh air?”
“It’s raining,” Oliver points out, glancing out the window.
Grey pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I should probably move my body a little. I’m fucking stiff.”
I laugh, and he grabs my hips harder, making me squirm. “Not like that, you little minx.” He growls playfully, making me giggle.
“We could go to the gym,” Oliver suggests.
“I’d rather go swimming.”
I stiffen at Grey’s words, my eyes darting to Misha, who grins knowingly. “Oh, you won’t like what you’re gonna hear now,” Misha tells Grey with amusement.
“What?” Grey looks at me, obvious confusion evident on his face.
I take a deep breath, feeling a bit sheepish. “I… can’t swim.”
Grey’s eyebrows shoot up so high they almost disappear into his hairline. It’s a comical sight, and I have to bite my lip to keep from giggling even more.
“What the fuck do you mean you can’t swim?” he asks, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You guys have an Olympic pool in your mansion.”
“Theirmansion.” I shrug, feeling more than a little defensive. “I was so occupied with lessons in piano and school and tennis and going to church, everybody just… forgot. And I didn’t want to have to learn another thing.” I fidget with the hem of my shirt, avoiding eye contact. “Besides, it’s not like I had much free time between all those activities and trying to please my parents.”
Grey groans. The sound is so exaggerated that I look up at him. “The pity tour doesn’t count here, Princess. We’re going swimming tonight, and you’re gonna learn. I can’t stand that you’re living near water and can’t swim.”
“I’m never going to walk into the ocean if that’s what you’re afraid of,” I protest weakly, already knowing it’s a lost cause.
“I don’t care,” Grey retorts. “You could fall off a ferry or some shit with your luck.”
Misha and Oliver are chuckling in the background, clearly enjoying the show. I shoot them both a glare, which only seems to amuse them more.
“Do you at least have a swimsuit?” Grey asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
