Page 66 of Waiting for Her

After my dad passed away and Mom started the coffee shop, the smell of coffee became somewhat of a security blanket for me. If the smell was surrounding me, it meant my mom was close by.

I finish my first cup quickly and go back to the kitchen to make a second. My phone pings where I set it on the counter, and I reach for it, my heartbeat picking up when I see who it is.

Grady:Tomorrow, 8 am, be here. Time to get shit sorted.

How very alpha of him.

Me:Not going to ask if that works for me?

Grady:Nope

Awesome.

He’s obviously not in a great mood, and it’s not like he’s completely out of line. We do need to get everything sorted out. Last night, though, he seemed very reluctant to offer any sort of forgiveness, so the thought of going to his place to get yelled at isn’t too appealing.

And then, because I’m an idiot and his pushiness annoyed me…

Me:Will we be alone or will your girlfriend be joining us?

Grady:Really? You’re going there?

Me:Just want to know what to prepare for

Grady:I’m glad to know you think I’d kiss you when I had a girlfriend

Shit. He’s right. I’m still accusing him of the same thing I did all those years ago, with no basis to the accusation.

Grady:I don’t have patience for this shit, Bri

Me:I know. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it

Grady:That’s the shittiest part. You did mean it

Grady:I changed my mind about tomorrow. Get your ass over here

Shiiiiiittttt.

Grady:Now. I don’t give a shit if you’re still in your pajamas. I’ve seen you in far less so either I’m coming over there or you’re coming here

I suppose now’s not the time to let him know his alpha behavior is actually turning me on, huh? Or I could just ignore him and see if he makes good on his word to come here and get me. Possibly throwing me over his shoulder, carrying me back to his place…

Oh see? There I go, letting my imagination run away from me.

Me:I’m on my way

No response. Not even the three little bubbles popping up that would let me know he’s texting me back.

Right.

I chug down the rest of my coffee, knowing I’ll definitely need the caffeine to get me through this conversation, and eat a quick granola bar.

I hustle into my room, throw on a pair of capri leggings, and grab a thin hoodie, tossing it on over the camisole I’m wearing. I make a quick stop in the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face, then find a hair tie and slide it on my wrist.

Flip flops go on my feet, and I’m on my way over to his house.

Since he knows I’m coming over, I let myself in through the low wooden gate. He’s standing on his patio, arms crossed over his chest, his happy dog sitting at his feet, tail wagging and thumping against the ground. At least one of them is happy to see me.

Grady nods his head behind him and I follow him into his home.

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