Because he noticed. Of course he noticed.
My instinct is to shut down. To say nothing. To make it smaller. But my throat is already tight and my body is already rattled and somehow—somehow—his question doesn’t feel like a trap.
I keep my gaze forward. “It’s…history.”
Grayson nods once. “Okay.”
Notwhat kind?
Nothow bad?
Notwho is he?
Just okay.
We walk another block. My breathing steadies.
I swallow hard. “My brother…doesn’t like him.”
Grayson’s jaw tightens slightly at the mention of Kai. It’s subtle, but I see it.
He keeps his voice calm. “Yeah. I would bet not.”
A laugh tries to escape me—brittle and sharp—but it doesn’t make it out.
I press the paper bag closer to my chest. “I didn’t think hearing a name would?—”
He glances over. “Do that?”
I nod.
Grayson’s gaze holds mine for half a beat. “I think we all have things that cause us to lose it a little if we aren’t expecting it.”
He’s not wrong, but how does he know that my body remembers everything my brain wishes it could delete?
I swallow. “I hate that.”
His mouth twitches, but it isn’t humor. It’s something closer to understanding.
“Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”
We walk in silence for a minute.
Then Grayson asks, like he’s testing the words before he offers them, “Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?”
My chest tightens automatically. Not because I don’t want him to. Because wanting him to feels like a risk.
“Just to the corner,” I compromise, because I’m still me.
Grayson nods like that makes sense. Like I didn’t just negotiate closeness like it’s a contract.
At the corner by the fountain, we stop. The air is cooler here. A breeze pushes through the trees. Grayson hands me the bag and my fingers brush his. I inhale sharply, gaze flying to the contact, before moving back to his face, where his eyes are already on me.
Grayson’s gaze flicks to the bag. “At least you got the right one.”
I huff. “Barely.”
His mouth quirks. “Still counts.”
