Page 3 of Always Been Yours

“I don’t hate your father,” I chuckle and finally pick up the stapler. I can’t say that I never hated Grady, but I don’t feel that way anymore. I tried to stop feeling anything where he’s concerned a very long time ago. I quirk an eyebrow at the girls. “But if your dad does think that I hate him, I doubt he knows where you currently are?”

The younger girl looks about five and has big round eyes that probably help her get just about anything she wants. She giggles nervously. It’s the first sound she’s made since they walked in. “No, he doesn’t know where we are becausewedon’t know where we are! He gave us money to go to the vending machine, but we couldn’t find it, so we turned around and around and around. Stella,“ she jerks her thumb toward her older sister who rolls her eyes, “said she recognized your name on the door.”

Stella turns and leans toward her sister before whisper-yelling, “Ugh, Daisy, please stop talking! You’re going to get us into trouble!”

“No, no. Neither one of you are in trouble but I don’t want your dad to worry, either.” I tilt my head toward the desks at the front of my classroom. “Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll try to find your dad’s extension code?”

Iknew I would eventually have to see Grady, but I was not prepared for it today. I look down at my outfit and let out a long sigh.

I opted for a Taylor Swift tee and my comfiest green overalls—which happen to also be really fucking cute. I hadn’t bothered with make-up today. It wouldn’t have done much anyway. Not after I let my best friend Lexi talk me into staying at the bar two hours later than I had planned. And since I was there, I had two or three more margaritas. It’s not my fault that James was bartending last night, and everyone knows he makes the best ones. It was also the first time Lexi and I had time to go out together in a few weeks.

I’m looking a hell of a lot better than I was this morning but it’s not my best day by any means.

I don’t notice I’m nibbling on my bottom lip until I get the faint taste of blood. I consciously take a deep breath and force myself to stop fidgeting.

I would say that Grady is responsible for like… ninety-three percent of our animosity but I was definitely the one who made an ass out myself the last time we saw each other.

Which only piques my curiosity more.

I take a seat at my desk and turn the computer on. “Well, since we are at school you should call me Miss Davies.” Truthfully, it has less to do with professionalism and more to do with keeping my guard up where Grady—and now his adorable little daughters—are concerned. “Stella?” I flick my eyes from the older girl to the younger one, “and Daisy?”

Stella sighs, “Yes.”

“It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Do I have to tell you how I heard my dad?”

As much as Ireallywant to know, I can’t in good faith makemyself ask.

But if there is one thing I’ve learned while working with the younger crowd, it’s that silence almost always gives you the same information.

I shrug. “No, it’s okay. I’m going to find his number.”

I usually bring my laptop so I can limit the number of times I have to use the desktop that’s supplied by the school, but I hadn’t anticipated needing it while decorating my classroom.

It takes about twenty seconds before Stella starts talking.

“I woke up and got scared, so I went to find my dad. I heard him talking to my aunt. It kind of seemed like she knew you too.” She eyes me curiously before giving an insolent shrug. In that same moment, I realize she’s a fiery little thing.

“Mmhmm…” Yeah, Grady’s sister Blake hates me. That’s not news to me. We used to be friends, almost as close as me and Grady, but I am pretty sure that friendship’s demise is ninety-three percentmyfault.

“That’s all I’m going to say,” she huffs in a defiant tone.

I fight back a snort. “Got it.”

Chromeis opening at the same moment there is a soft knock on the door. All three of our heads turn toward the disturbance at the same time.

I thank whoever is holy up there that Grady is giving Stella and Daisy a stern look. It allows me time to shake out of the shock from his presence.

I may feelindifferenttoward him, but I can admit that manhood has treated him well.

I’m too busy taking in his broad shoulders that I don’t notice when he looks at me. He says quietly, the same severe expression he gave the girls, but amusement thick in his voice, “And what are you grinning about over there?”

“I’m not grinning about anything.” I lean back in my chair.

“Genevieve, you’ve made that damn face since you were about six years old.”

I know what face he’s talking about. My poor attempt at a poker face. Considering it’s what usually caused our mothers to catch us sneaking out, or something along those lines, I’m not really shocked that he can see through it.

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