“My feet work,” I huff out as he gently places me down, outside of the room.
He winks before sauntering off down the hall. “I know.”
Watching him walk away, I can’t put my finger on what’s different about him. I’m not sure what it is, but all I know is that…I don’t hate it in the slightest.
In fact, I love it.
With damp hair from his shower, and still a slight scowl on his face from the fight, Grayson and I walk into the hotel room an hour later. The clock on the bedside table shows it’s nearing midnight. Yet despite the time, I’m not tired in the slightest.
I’m not the only one who won’t sleep tonight. Grayson is worrying his bottom lip, his mind seemingly running a mile a minute.
“Are you going to sit down or keeppacing?”
“Pacing.”
“We certainly switched roles in the last eight hours.” At his continued silence, I probe, “Have you eaten?”
Just a shake of the head, but it’s all I need. Without another word I slide over the side of the bed, pick up the room service menu, and call for in-room dining. I relay off his favorites: medium rare steak, mushroom sauce on the side; tossed salad; steamed vegetables; and a large plate of French fries. I grab myself a grilled ham and cheese sandwich because, even though I stuffed my face full of food during the game, if I see Grayson eat, my stomach will suddenly become a bottomless pit.
As I hang up the phone, I find Grayson isn’t pacing any longer. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I shrug. “I figured some food will help settle you.”
His eyes bore into mine, an emotion passing through them that I can’t place.
Cocking my head, I ask again, “What did the player say?”
His shoulders stiffen. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does if it still has you riled up. Why can’t you let the comment go?”
He licks his lips. “Because it’s unforgivable and…”
“And?”
“And I’m worried he was right.”
I pat the bed beside me. “Now I definitely need to know what the bastard said.”
He doesn’t sit on the bed. Instead, he falls back completely, putting his arm behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. “I can’t say it. It’s despicable.”
“Could you at least tell me the topic?”
His eyes cut my way. “It involved you.”
My brows rise in shock. “Me? Why would you get riled up about me?”
He rolls his eyes at that. “If you want me to be honest then you’re going to have to stop playing coy.”
“I’m not playing coy. I have no idea why you would get so angry over an assistant?—”
My words die as he suddenly sits up to face me, the intensity in his gaze piercing me to the spot. “You know you’re not just myassistant, Bella. I said it before I left. I’ve said it a few times actually.”
“I thought you were just teasing,” I say slowly.
He sighs heavily before tearing his gaze away, and the defeat that wracks his body makes my chest ache so painfully it has me reaching a hand out onto his leg. A spark of electricity zaps down my fingers the moment I touch him. “What do you need, Grayson? What will make it better?”
“You can’t give me it.”
