“And why are youinhere?” I scowl. “Ever heard of knocking?”
Or of having a smidge of manners?
My tone is edgier than either of us probably expected, but Grey just shrugs. “I would have knocked, but…” His voice trailsoff, suggesting an unspoken understanding that maybe, in this place, formalities like knocking are less important to him.
I let out a huff, half-amused, half-exasperated. “You forgot because there are no closed doors for one of the princes of Elysium, I guess.”
Wait, did I really just say that?
Grey’s half-smirk lingers, almost challenging, as he leans against my desk, arms crossed over his chest, invading my personal bubble even more and making my heart race. “Perks of beingthe kingof nerds,” he teases, his tone light but his gaze intense. I roll my eyes, trying to mask the flutter his proximity causes. “Anyway. Misha fell asleep in his chair, and I came to get you while Oliver tries to wake him enough to go eat. Come on, let’s go.”
“What? Why? Did he have a long night?”
The concern I feel tells me I care for them more than I thought I did.
“It’s always long nights with him.” Grey shrugs, but his gaze flickers with a hint of concern.
“Why? Is he a late-night gamer?” I probe as I break eye contact to return to my desk and put my computer in energy-saving mode.
“No,” he replies as I turn back to him. “That would be Oliver.”
I absorb every detail like a sponge, thirsty to understand these people who have somehow become a significant part of my daily life.
“What about Misha then?” I ask, tilting my head as I stand from my chair. Grey, noticeably taller, looks down to meet my gaze. He subtly shifts his position, closing the distance between us just enough that I can feel the warmth of his minty breath.
“Insomnia,” he answers, his voice low, reverberating softly in the quiet space between us. Poor Misha. That explains the constant exhaustion shadowing his features and the deep ringsetched under his eyes. I can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him, imagining the many nights he must have spent wrestling with sleeplessness. “You can bombard him with your thousand questions yourself when we meet up,” Grey remarks. His tone isn’t mean, but it comes off a bit sharp, like a needle pricking at the balloon of my fledgling confidence.
As I sling my backpack over my shoulder, I feel myself shrink from the added weight. We step out of the office and into the brightly lit hallway, a hum of silence between us as we make our way to the elevator.
“Oh, don’t go all shy on me again,” Grey chides when we enter the elevator. “I’m here because we wanted to make sure you’d actually come to lunch. I don’t mind you asking so many questions.”
Am I doing that?
Usually, people say I’m too quiet. Besides my parents, of course.“You should be seen and not heard.”
“I told you guys I would come since I tested Jamie yesterday,” I remind him, irritation threading through my voice.
Why does he think I wouldn’t keep my word?
“True, but you seem a little…” Grey trails off, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he searches for the right phrase. He clearly enjoys how I hang onto his lips.
“A littlewhat?” I press, my defenses rising like hackles.
“A little like a flight risk,” he concludes, his smirk broadening into a full-fledged grin.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I scowl, my annoyance spiking at his audacity.
“It means you have to be convinced about everything and that sometimes, you seem ready to bolt at the smallest things,” Grey explains, his voice softening a bit, sensing my growing defensiveness. “It’s not a bad thing, Amelia. It’s smart not to giveyour trust away too easily. That wouldn’t be safe, and I’m glad you’re cautious.”
“But you’re offended that I’m cautious with you,” I retort, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Of course I am,” he admits, and there’s a genuine tone in his voice that catches me off guard. “But that’s on me to earn your trust, not on you to give it unwarrantedly.”
This is more than unexpected, and the icy irritation turns to something warm inside me. Maybe Grey isn’t just all smirks and provocation. Maybe there’s more depth to him, just as I hope he might see in me.
As we walk toward the cafeteria, I’m acutely aware of him beside me. He has this way of being too close without actually touching, a skill that seems to pull me in despite my better judgment.
The familiar hum of conversation fills the cafeteria, but no whispers this time. Funnily enough, I wasn’t even worried about them since I have Mr. Super Scowl with me.
