Page 33 of Grayson
I look up from my space on the floor just in time to see Tori swipe Grayson’s cheek with her paintbrush. His body freezes before slowly turning to face her. Laughter bubbles in my chest, and I lift my hand to cover my mouth.
Navy blue paint from lip to ear, and even some in his hair.
“We’re playing like that huh?” he asks, repositioning his own brush like it’s more of a weapon. “You wanna go?”
“Where we going?” she taunts him.
Lifting his hands, taking a fighting stance she rolls her eyes.
“You do realize how ridiculous you look, right?”
“You should remember that you started this.” He twists his hand, motioning for her to move closer. “Take your shot.”
“Looks like I already did, and I made contact. You’re the one with the battle wound.”
“I gave you one free one.” He arches his brow as if to dare her to make another attempt.
I’d spent the last several hours watching the two of them tease and hassle each another like they are best pals. You’d never guess that less than a week ago she was calling him a hooker, and every other awful insult she could come up with.
Tonight it was different, both of them actually. Tori’s relaxed, smiling, and laughing. Grayson, he’s less intense and more playful.
Pizza boxes are scattered around on the plastic that covers Tori’s bedroom floor. I’m sure that Gray didn’t expect to come over and be put to work. But thirty minutes after he arrived, he was moving furniture and taping off trim. The light switch covers were down, the room was clear and there was one coat of navy blue paint on two walls. He’d somehow convinced my sister that painting the ceiling was a bad idea and she didn’t even try to argue with him.
Out of nowhere Tori lunges and makes contact once more with Grayson’s arm, smearing the paint from wrist to elbow.
“Strike two.” She lifts her hand and makes a tally mark on an invisible score board. “Age is making you slow, gramps.”
“I’m twenty-nine.”
“I know,” she pouts. “Before long it’ll be all soft foods and motorized scooters.”
As I sit watching them I realize I could do this very thing all day every day and enjoy each moment of it. There is a happiness in Tori’s expression that until now I hadn’t even realized had been missing.
“Okay fine.” He holds up his hands in surrender as if he is backing off. “You win, because at this rate I’m gonna look like an overbaked Smurf.” He lowers his arms, stands tall, and lets out a long exaggerated breath.
“Wimp,” she says and starts to turn away from him. I see it coming before she does and he wraps one arm around her waist, picks her up off the floor as she starts swinging her arms and kicking her legs.
“So that’s how you play huh?” She huffs. “Surprise attack from behind because you don’t have the balls to face me head on.” I can’t stop laughing. Holding my sides from the ache, I fall backwards wiping at the tears in my eyes.
He drops her other foot, she spins around quickly only he is prepared this time. His brush freshly dipped in paint, he reaches out his arm and wipes the brush over the center of her face. From hairline to chin, my sister is blue.
“You’re toast,” she mumbles, her eyes pinched tightly together. “Burnt toast,” she adds before spinning on her heels and walking out of the bedroom.
Grayson’s entire body is shaking with laughter. “I think I won,” he declares, looking over at me.
“You won the battle but there is no way you’re winning the war.” My words dawn on him and he quickly darts to the door locking the handle. Stepping back he creates space between him and the door and looks over at me.
“She’s gonna be pissed, isn’t she?”
I offer him a nod. “Raging mad!”
“Any words of advice?”
“Just one, run!”
“What happened to your eyebrow?” Scarlett asks Gray leaning in to get a better look and he swats her away.
“Knock it off.” He lifts his beer and takes another drink, looking at me from across the table where I’m hiding behind my glass. Every single time I see him the memory of last night flashes in my mind.