“I don’t want to share you,” I murmur, a thought that slips out before I can stop it.
“You don’t?” she whispers.
I sigh, but I’m drowning in her.
“I dented your fridge,” I say quietly. “Guess I can’t handle other men touching you.”
I figured that would freak her out, but she just giggles and clutches me tight, wrapping her thick thighs around me like I’m a lifeline. Like I’m something good.
She doesn’t even know.
She has no idea who she’s in bed with.
No idea that I’m the worst guy in this entire house.
How the hell did a pure thing like her end up under someone like me?
And then she murmurs near my ear:
Her body tenses, and that clueless, sweet voice cracks. “Grayson... will you be my boyfriend? Please?”
Chapter 10
Charlotte
I’m the best girlfriend.
Okay, technically, Grayson doesn’t know that. When I asked him to be my boyfriend, his exact words were:
“No fucking way, Piggy.”
But then he kissed me like I belonged to him. Touched me like no one else was ever allowed to.
So maybe I’m not his girlfriend.
But I’m his. Ihaveto be.
It’s been a couple of weeks, and like every morning, I make breakfast for Grayson and Atticus.
Eggs, toast, coffee just the way he likes it.
When I set the plate in front of him, Grayson leans in, quick, like someone might catch him, and presses a kiss to my forehead.
Only when no one’s looking.
Ilivefor those kisses.
“I washed your clothes, too,” I whisper.
He exhales, half-groan, half-laugh, and mutters, “Fucking hell, Charlotte.”
He tries not to smile, but fails. Instead, he ducks in and nuzzles my neck, lips dragging against my skin.
I go stiff, glancing at Atticus. But his eyes are glued to his eggs, headphones on.
Brax is still dead to the world, sleeping in until noon, as usual. Thank God.
Grayson pulls back, murmuring near my ear, “Didn’t ask you to do that.”
