“What are you doing here?”
“I should have admitted it was me right away, but then Remy and Felix said we needed to go or you would get in more trouble, and I left the window open. I’m so sorry.” I said it all so fast, I didn’t even know if he understood half of it.
“Come out from under there.” Grayson leaned forward to reach for me, but he winced and blew out a heavy breath before trying again, moving slower.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, scooting out on my own.
“Nothing,” he lied. I opened my mouth to call him on it, but snapped it closed instead. Gray sat on the floor next to me once I was out. Our backs were up against his bed, and I had my arms wrapped around my knees.
“I’m so sorry, Gray. I’ll talk to my dad. We’ll figure out a way to replace it.”
“You don’t need to replace it, it’s fine. He doesn’t even care about the vase.” Gray lifted his knees like mine and started to raise his arms as if he might put them on his knees, but he winced again, his face turning pale before he slouched back to his original position.
“Did you hurt yourself cleaning up the mess?” I questioned, looking at his hands, expecting to see a cut or something, but Gray balled up his fists and shook his head.
“I’m fine. Where did the guys go?” I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it, but I knew something was wrong.
“Don’t know. I told them I was going home and circled back,” I admitted.
“Why did you come back?” Gray stared at the side of my face, and I got a weird feeling in my stomach, like I was on a rollercoaster.
I turned to look at him and told him the truth. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” His hazel eyes widened a bit, and his cheeks turned red.
He was blushing. I almost asked him why, but I didn’t. Instead, I thought about all the times I’d blushed in front of the guys lately, knowing it always happened when I thought about how cute Grayson was or how the way I felt about the guys was changing. I would get that rollercoaster feeling when Felix held my hand or Remy picked me up and ran down the field with me in his arms.
Heat rose in my cheeks, and I looked down, wondering if he would notice. I didn’t know what to say or do, so I just sat there.
“I’m okay,” Gray finally answered, and I peeked over at him.
“I’m sorry I let you take the blame for me. I’ll tell your granddad the truth.” I swallowed thickly.
“No, don’t even talk to him.” Gray took hold of my hand in a tight grip. He didn’t seem mad, more like he was worried.
“Okay,” I agreed softly. “If you tell me what happened.”
Gray narrowed his eyes. “Promise not to tell anyone and not to talk to him,” he demanded, and I nodded jerkily.
Gray released my hand and gazed out into the room. “It’s not that big of a deal,” he began, but I didn’t believe him. “For punishment, he makes us stand with our arms out, and if we drop them, he uses the cane. Most of the time I just drop my arms and take the lashings because he always does it anyway, and that usually gets it over with faster,” he confessed casually, as if he hadn’t just admitted to his grandpa beating him.
That was why he was moving slowly and flinching. “Does your mom know?” My voice was thick, and it was only then I realized I had a few tears falling down my cheeks. It was my fault Gray got hurt.
Gray snapped his head to the side and looked at me. I schooled my features, and Gray pretended not to notice I was crying.
“Did you read the book for class?” I asked the first thing that popped into my head that didn’t have anything to do with his family.
“I’m not done yet,” he replied, and we continued to stare at each other.
“Me either. Want me to read it for you?” I offered, thinking I could just tell him everything that happened and save him from doing it. It was the least I could do.
“Sure.” Gray turned to the side and grabbed the book. His movements were measured but not stilted. My eyes roamed over his back, and I wanted to ask to see, but I didn’t.
Gray dropped the book into my lap, then climbed up off the floor using his knees before walking over to the door and locking it. I watched him as he ambled back and reached his hand down to help me stand. I looked at his proffered hand, then back into his eyes. “Aren’t you mad at me?”
“Why would I be mad at you?” he inquired. Not waiting for me to reach for him, he grabbed my arms and started to tug. I rose mostly on my own when I realized what he was doing.
“It’s my fault you got in trouble,” I explained and joined him on the bed.
“No, it’s his. Believe me, he would have found a reason to do it sooner or later. Are you going to read that to me or what?” he questioned.
