Page 39 of Accepting Fate
“Fine,” I give in. “Obviously, I have some things going on. You should know that you are the first person I have ever let see me like this. I don’t know what that means but here we are. I blame the copious amount of medication I’ve been on and the lack of sleep.
“Last night when I called you, I had a dream that took me back to a place that I haven’t been in a long time. It wasn’t a normal nightmare; it was more like a flashback to a time I really want to forget. I woke up panicked and called you. I didn’t mean to flinch, but that dream had me rattled. It had nothing to do with you and I hope it doesn’t happen again. But if it does, just go slow.”
Taking a deep breath, I say the part that I really don’t want to. Playing with the edge of the blanket, I close my eyes. “Someone from my past called me princess. That name has a lot of hurt attached to it so please don’t call me that anymore.”
I fight the panic that rises. I hate that even mentioning that demon immediately sends me back to being that scared little girl.
Grayson gently squeezes my foot to get my attention. “That name will never come out of my mouth again. I promise. I told you before, but we will go at your pace. But next time, instead of running away, can you just tell me?”
“I will try but I’m not making any promises,” I tell him, smiling so he knows I want to move on from this heavy topic.
Grayson tickles my foot, causing me to act like a contortionist in my chair. He doesn’t let up and I laugh so hard that I start coughing.
Grayson is laughing just as hard as I am but stops and stands. He bends down, grabs my waist, and tosses me over his shoulder.
I place my hands on his back and raise myself up so I’m not hacking up my lung upside down.
Grayson walks us around the house to the front door, which is still open.
I make a mental note to do a thorough check in every crevice of the house after Grayson leaves. In all the commotion I forgot to shut the door and lock it.
He walks us inside and sets me on the counter, the blanket pooling in my lap. He goes to the cabinets and takes out a glass, then fills it with water. Handing it to me, he steps between my legs and kisses my forehead.
Stunned by the sweet gesture, the glass of water freezes halfway to my mouth. Grayson laughs and wraps his hand around mine and the glass and guides it to my mouth. I swat him away and take a drink.
“Since you’re being so helpful, will you hand me my medicine?” I say pointing to the medication bottle on the counter next to the fridge.
Grayson walks over and picks up the bottle. He reads it and I think he’s going to make some smart-ass comment about the medication name.
“You know, Angel, in all the getting to know each other we did over the week, we never told each other our last names.”
My face twists in confusion and I think back to our past conversations. I’m sure we have. But I guess we didn’t, because I cannot for the life of me think of his.
I hold out my hand for the medication. “Hm, I guess we didn’t.”
Grayson pours a pill into my hand and mutters, “Logan Sawyer.”
I toss the pill in my mouth and follow it with water. “Yup.”
Grayson stands in front of me and folds his arms across his chest. “So, Logan Sawyer, do you have a middle name?”
I nod my head. “I do, as a matter of fact. And you will be very shocked.”
“Oh yeah? Why's that?”
“It’s Blake. Mom was tired of the cute names being classified as boy names and said fuck it.”
Grayson uncrosses his arms and moves his hands to rest on top of my knees. “It fits. Your mom must have known you were going to grow up to be a badass nurse.”
Ignoring themom comment, I push his shoulder playfully. “That was cheesy as fuck.”
Grabbing his shoulder, he acts wounded. “Hey! I can’t win you over in other ways. I get called cocky. Had to try something different.”
“Keep trying, big guy. Anyways since we are sharing, what’s yours?”
Resting his hands back on my knees, his thumbs run back and forth. “Tyler Hayes.”
Of course, even his name would be hot as hell. Does this man have any flaws? I haven’t seen a single one so I start poking him.