Page 65 of Accepting Fate
I stare at him in shock.
“You taste better than I imagined.”
My cheeks heat from embarrassment and I cover my face with my hands. I feel him sit up and my hands are peeled away from my face.
“Don’t hide from me. Now get up, lazy bones.”
Bracing my hands on the couch, I sit up. “Wait, what?”
Grayson stands and I’m face to face with his dick hard as a rock in his pants.
He clues into my confusion and takes my hands, helping me stand up. “That was for you. If you were to repay the favor, you wouldn’t be able to walk. Let’s get your back better and then you can make it up to me. Now let’s go get your suit and get out of here.”
He turns me around and points to the loft. With his hands on my non-injured hip, he helps me up the stairs. I could do it on my own with the help of the railing, but I love that I have someone to lean on in a time like this.
We reach my room and I point to the bathroom. “Bathroom is in there. I need to change.”
“Okay. But bring extra clothes for after.”
Pausing in front of my drawers, I look over my shoulder at him. “Umm, do we have plans after? What kind of clothes? I was going to just wear this with my suit under it.”
He stalks over to me and winds his arms around my middle, my back to his chest. Kissing the top of my head, he says, “As much as I would love to see you in my clothes all day, no one but me will ever see these tiny shorts ever again. It’s sunny out but it’s still cold. And I don’t want you to be freezing after the hot tub so bring sweatpants.”
“Okay. But I’m keeping the sweatshirt.”
“It’s all yours, Angel,” he says then releases me with a gentle smack on my good ass cheek.
I take that as my signal to get moving and pack while he’s in the bathroom.
I hunt for a pair of sweats and shorts, then trade places with Gray in the bathroom.
After a painful attempt at putting on my black bikini, Gray’s hoodie back on, and a pair of more acceptable shorts, I come out of the bathroom ready to collapse on the bed.
Grayson hops up from his spot on the edge of my bed. “You look like you just ran a marathon.”
Smacking his arm, I walk around him and make my way down the stairs with a death grip on the railing. Focusing on the stairs I yell back to Grayson. “Thanks, asshole. Grab my sweats off my bed please.”
Within seconds he’s by my side helping me put on the sweats and down the stairs.
As we reach the living room, I walk straight to the front door to grab my wallet and keys. I hate purses and I don’t see the need to carry one if we are just going to soak in a hot tub and come back.
Opening the front door, I turn around to see Grayson making his way to the back door and jiggle the handle. It doesn’t budge. Once he’s done, he grabs his backpack and helmet off the island. He bends down to put his shoes on. Patting his pockets to make sure he has everything, he walks past me and waits for me to shut the door. Without asking, he takes my keys from my hand and locks the door. Grayson pushes on the door and when he is satisfied, he turns to see me standing there shocked.
“What was that?” I ask, trying to hide the urge to cry or be angry.
He shrugs. “Just making sure everything is locked up. Did I check everything? Are there more doors? Do I need to check upstairs or the windows?”
"Umm. No, it's okay." I say, still in shock.
He’s been here one other time and he picked up on my need to have things locked up like a max-security prison.
He motions for me to turn around. “Alright. Let's go.”
How is he acting like he didn’t just see my fears and obsession with feeling safe, and instead of ignoring it, he embraced it and helped me?
Grayson freezes and stares at his bike. I catch up to him and understand.
I pat him on the shoulder. “Yeah buddy, hate to break it to you but I’m definitely not getting on that thing today.”