“Uh—”
Matt’s lanky frame slides closer. His side hug is warm, firm, protective. “You shouldn’t have to do it alone.”
This is all moving so fast.
It’s loud.
The commotion of people talking, traffic moving, birds chirping, planes overhead... yet, I am deaf as my gaze lands on Grayson in the distance.
The world stops. He leans on his truck. He’s tired. I see it in those handsome eyes. He has grease on his forearms, salt on his skin, that sinful smirk pulling at his lips. His shirt clings to his chest with the sweat of hard work, veins bulging along his arms, and his gaze rakes over me likethisis the best part of his day. Seeing me.
My heart flutters with the joy I once held every second of every day, but now it’s sullied by the darkness of knowing the real Grayson.
And now, I’m either about to die or break his heart.
I wince.
What are you doing, Charlotte?If only the right answer was obvious.
Ashleigh and Matt appear, walking along either side of me. Like angels and devils. Shields and saboteurs.
Grayson’s smile vanishes.
He knows something is wrong.
Chapter 36
Charlotte
Every step closer feels heavier, like drowning, the ground threatening to crack, taking my allies with it. I lift my gaze slowly, heart thudding, throat dry.
Grayson doesn’t smile. His eyes, those gold flecked hazel eyes, sweep over Ashleigh and Matt with cold calculation. It’s not jealousy. I can tell. He’s sizing them up.
And God, do I feel scrutinized, too.
“Uh,” I stammer, my voice stupidly high. “Hello, Grayson.”
His gaze slices back to me, and I freeze. It’s intense. Possessive. I swear my knees are about to buckle, wanting to kneel in surrender.
This isn’t normal, Charlotte.Remember that. Attraction? That pull? It’s all there for this man, but itshouldn’tbe.
He cocks his head. “Oh. Hello, Piggy.” His tone is like a loaded gun.
Ashleigh scoffs. “Piggy?”
I laugh nervously, rubbing my arm. “It’s, it’s an old nickname.”
I gesture between them. “These are my friends. Matt and Ashleigh.”
Matt, bless his brave little heart, extends a hand.
Grayson doesn’t take it. Just looks at it, disgusted. But then, he grips it and says, “Soft hands, bro.”
Flat. Dismissive. Even bored.
Matt stammers something, retracting fast. Ashleigh folds her arms, unimpressed.
But Grayson’s already forgotten them. He’s locked on me again. His whole world narrowing to the width of my body.
