Page 37 of Accepting Fate

Which would really fucking suck.

“For someone as tiny as you, you’re full of a lot of secrets, princess.”

Princess?

My spine steels and bile rises in my throat. Goosebumps break out all over my entire body. “W-What did you just say?” I ask.

My brain jumps into flight mode, and I don’t give him time to respond. I need to get the fuck out of here. I bolt for the front door, but Grayson steps in front of me.

When did he get there? He was just sitting down.

Grabbing the top of my arms, he dips his head, so our eyes meet. “Logan, stop. What did I say?”

Staring into his big blues, my entire body starts shaking. I feel like I’m going to pass out. I pinch my arm. Hard. I have found that if something like this happens, pinching my arm helps distract me enough to not go into full panic mode.

I’m so lost in him, my vision goes blurry. I pinch myself again, harder this time and step back.

I need fresh air.

Bolting around him, I reach the front door and practically throw the door stopper across the room from the force I use to yank it out. Unlocking the deadbolts, I fling open the door and run outside.

The cool morning air encapsulates me, and I take a deep breath. The wet dirt under my bare feet is cold but it helps in bringing me back to reality. I tilt my face up to the sky and the sun hits my skin, the smell of the pine trees calming me down immediately.

I stand there for a while, letting the rare Washington sunshine take away my troubles.

Something soft touches my shoulders, breaking me out of my quiet little bubble. I look over my shoulder to see Grayson placing a blanket around me. Our eyes meet and he gives me a soft smile.

That damn look. I know it like the back of my hand. It’s sympathy. I give the same smile to my patients when the doctor just told them their stomach cramps are actually cancer.

This is one of the many reasons I never tell anyone about my past or show this side of myself. I hate pity. Just because my life sucks and bad things have happened to me, doesn’t mean I deserve sympathy.

My life may be really complicated, and I may be terrified of what lurks around every corner, but I got away. You can’t run away from cancer or a car wreck that takes away your ability to walk.

Looking down at my feet, I stare at the tattoo on my foot that I know will always remind me of Grayson.

Him saying that dreaded nickname was a flashing neon sign telling me that I need to put an end to this before I get too attached.

Turning around to face him, I smile. I take a second to look him over. I want to remember every part of him before I let him go.

His arms are full of black ink. On one arm is a scene of a wolf at the base of a mountain drinking from a stream. From the mist coming off the trees to the hair on the wolf is clear and strikingly beautiful.

“Logan?” Grayson’s whisper takes me out of my studying of his arm.

He gives me a concerned look and places his hands in the pockets of his jeans. In this moment, he looks shy but concerned. It’s like he’s afraid to move because he doesn’t know what I’ll do next.

I know he wants answers. But what if I tell him everything and he runs? That would break my heart into a million pieces. But telling him would mean that I put my trust in someone other than myself and that is a level of control that I don’t think I am ready for.

Grayson clears his throat. “Logan—”

Cutting him off mid-sentence, I pull the blanket tighter around me. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ve shown you enough to prove that I’m crazy. We can skip thelet’s be friendsspeech. I’m not mad. I really appreciate you being there for me last night. You’re a really great guy, Grayson. You will make some girl very happy. Take care.”

I did it. I might have sounded like a robot, but I did it. It hurts but it’s the best for both of us.

Walking around him, I make my way to the back of the house. It’s chilly out but this blanket is keeping me warm. I’m going to sit my miserable ass outside and stare at the trees while I wish I had a normal life that let me have people like Grayson in it.

I’m about to step onto the porch when I hear him.

“Logan.” His voice sounds stern, but I can’t be sure since I’m walking as fast as I can to get away from him.