Page 10 of Keeping You

“I didn’t think you worked today, Dr. Maxwell,” she practically purrs.

“I don’t. I’m here to pick Hannah up.”

Her expression dims slightly before she plasters the smile back on. “Well, I guess that means you can take me to breakfast then.”

Grayson’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “No, like I said, I’m here for Hannah.”

Removing his arm from her grasp, he holds his hand out for me, indicating he’ll follow me. I step in front of him and feel Samantha’s eyes digging into my back. I walk toward the closest elevator, and Grayson pushes the down button. Being near Grayson has always caused my skin to prickle. My senses feel heightened, and I’m hyperaware of his presence. Being with him in silence has my skin crawling, though. I don’t like the man. I have no idea what to say to break the silence that wouldn’t be awkward.

When we arrive at his car, he opens the passenger door for me and waits for me to get settled and buckled before he rounds the car to the driver’s seat. He immediately turns on the radio, like the silence bugs him, too. I take note that it’s not a radio station, but rather he’s got an early 2000s playlist playing. The drive to his place is quick. I walk in the front door and toe off my shoes, immediately relieved. I slowly move to the couch, allowing it to eat me as I sink into it.

Leaning my head back, I close my eyes. A minute later, I feel Grayson’s presence looming over me. Cracking one eye, I look up at him.

His eyes are soft as he looks at me and holds out a protein bar. “You should probably eat this. If you’re hungry for more, I can make you something. I’m sure you want to shower after your shift. I can have it done when you’re out.”

That sounds so nice. My entire body melts at his words, and I whisper, “Thank you. Food sounds good.”

I make my way into his bedroom and into the en-suite washroom, turning the water on to a blistering temperature while I strip out of my scrubs. I wait for the bathroom to fill with steam before stepping under the water. My muscles slowly relax as the hot water runs down my body. When I finish, I join Grayson in the kitchen, where he’s taking a pancake out of a pan. He takes the plate over to the table before retreating to the kitchen and returning with bacon and fruit. He’s gone all out.

I slip into a chair and slowly pile food on my plate before digging in. I moan around a mouthful of bacon. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I started eating. I completely devour my food while Grayson watches me with a small smile. Spending this much time with him is making me uneasy. Over the last two years, all the time we’ve spent together has been either because of work or our friends. I guess this is more forced time spent with him as he made me agree to this stupid ninety-day agreement, but what else was I supposed to do? Say no and let him drag this out just to annoy me.

Nope.

This is better. When we have days off together, I can work to avoid him. Olivia just had her baby, so I can go spend time with her and help with baby Cate. I’m sure I can convince Liz to go out with me a couple of nights, or I can crash at her or Zoey’s place.

As I finish eating, my exhaustion settles in, a yawn leaves me as I sag in my chair.

“Thank you for breakfast.”

Grayson nods and reaches for my plate.

“I can clean up. You cooked,” I say.

He shakes his head. “I’ve got this Hannah. Just go get some rest.”

I push up from my seat and move into the bedroom, sliding under the covers. His mattress is the perfect softness where it feels like you’re floating, but not so soft you’re falling into it. Last night was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while, and I’m not sure if that was because I was so tired after the weekend, or because of this perfect bed.

No matter what I do to try to sleep, it’s fruitless, and I toss and turn. I groan, knowing the one thing that never fails to get me to fall asleep when I’m tired, but my brain won’t shut up.

I slide out of the bed and rummage through my bag, finding just what I’m looking for. I grab my headphones out of my purse and settle back under the blanket. I pull up the last audiobook I was listening to. It was just ramping up, and I figure it can help me alleviate some tension.

I listen as the story starts playing in my ears. When the main male character says, “Fuck it,” I turn on my vibrator. I moan once it’s in place, biting my hand to try to quiet the sound. God, this male narrator’s voice is like liquid gold. It has me melting further into the bed. The dirty talk doesn’t hurt either. As the scene progresses, I turn up speed of the vibrator. I feel myself building higher and higher. As the male voice growls, “Come for me,” my back arches off the bed and my toes curl into my feet as I come. I bite my lip, holding back the moan that wants to leave me. I come down from the high and clean up in the washroom before climbing back into bed, sleep finally taking me.

When I wake up in the morning, Grayson isn’t home. I have a few hours before I need to head to work, so I slip into leggings, a sports bra, and my runners. Grabbing the extra set of keys Grayson had made for me off the kitchen counter, I head downthe street. The sun is warm on my skin as I join the busy sidewalk of people.

I haven’t run the seawall in a while, so I start in a light jog in that direction, warming up as I zig-zag my way through the city streets. When I finally catch a glimpse of the water, I pick up the pace, inhaling the smell of the ocean. Growing up in the city, I always enjoyed trips to the beach, trying to get away from the tall concrete buildings. Stanley Park is that little oasis in the middle of downtown that allows a small escape.

I jog past people stopping and taking pictures of the blooming cherry blossoms at the entrance to the park. I smile as I pick up speed, breaking into a full run now that I’m in the park. The feeling of the path beneath my feet is familiar. A gentle breeze comes off the water, and I find a bench at the perfect spot for me to turn around. I settle in, enjoying the view.

“Fancy finding you here,” Grayson says as he sits beside me.

I ignore him. I had hoped leaving the apartment would give me time to come to terms with everything. I watch as he taps a finger on his knee. I count the pattern. One, two, three, hold. One, two, three, hold. He repeats it five times before he leans forward, bracing his forearms on his legs.

“I run the seawall every day. It helps me clear my head. I’ll run it after a difficult shift, no matter the time of day,” he says.

I nod. It feels weird to have him open up to me, even about something as small as his running path or that he runs after difficult shifts.

“I started running when I went to college and just never gave it up. Something about it helps clear my head. It helps me stay grounded when the world around me is beyond crazy.”

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