Placing her hand over her heart, Wren gave him that warm smile that he should have recognized right from the start.
“Grayson?” she said. “Did you hear me?”
He shook his head, both as a way to respond and in an attempt to fucking clear it. Something in his eyes must have given him away, must have let her know he was wise to her, because Wren’s eyes widened.
“Oh,” she started. “You know?—”
He ripped off the Band-Aid.
“Hello, little bird.”
Chapter Thirteen
Grayson’s deep voice slid over Wren like a warm caress, and for one perfect, impossible second, her heart soared.
Because he was finally looking at her and seeing…her.
Then she looked him in the eye, and everything inside her crashed.
His expression wasn’t warm or teasing. He wasn’t giving her that crooked grin that she’d become entirely too fond of during their chats about books.
Instead, he looked angry.
“You know,” she whispered.
Grayson folded his arms across his chest. “I know.”
Ice flooded her veins. Mom always swore that the truth eventually found its way out. Apparently today was the day.
“Grayson—” she started, wondering what the hell she was going to say.
He shook his head. “You lied to me.” His voice wasn’t loud, which somehow made this even worse. The hurt she heard underneath those words cut straight through her.
“I can explain.”
Could she though?
Sure, the switch had felt harmless enough when it was just her and Lark working to save her sister’s job. Who the hell would have expected feelings to emerge from the simple task of pouring wine at a festival for a couple of days?
Grayson laughed, the sound harsh and completely unlike him.
Wren glanced around the library. It was almost closing time. Actually, it was probably a little past, so no one else was around. Not that she felt in danger. In truth, she was relieved no one was here to overhear her confess to something she was quite ashamed of.
“I’m sorry.” She started with those words, since they were the ones she felt were most important.
“I don’t know what kind of game you and your sister were playing, but?—”
“It wasn’t a game,” she interjected quickly.
“Really?” His eyes darkened. “Because from where I’m standing, it sure as hell looks like one.”
She flinched. “No. Honest. We just?—”
This time, it was Grayson who interrupted. “You lied to me. Pretended to be someone you weren’t.”
That was the part she couldn’t refute. Because she had.
Then she considered the other women in his past. The one who lied about being single, the one who lied about being pregnant.
