Page 85 of Always Been Yours

I feel Grady’s presence in the room before I hear his quiet knock. When I turn toward him, I catch his eyes glued to my ass. Which is directly pointed to him as I’m crouching to see under the desk. When his eyes sweep up toward my face, he doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed.The smug bastard,my mind shouts even if the rest of me is heating at the sultry gaze.

“What are you doing, love?” he asks me, leaning against the door and his gaze moving back down.

I may or may not make a show of standing up, remembering the only useful advice Molly has ever given me–when bending down, always remember the three-step rule, down-booty-up,she told me once in high school. We proceeded to practice in the dressing room mirror in her parents’ closet while giggling uncontrollably. It’s one of the only memories of Molly I’ve allowed myself to keep closeto my heart.

But I don’t want any memories of Molly or Brody to stain this moment. This very inconsequential moment where Grady is looking at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.Radiatingwas the word he used at my house. And this isn’t the first time he’s looked at me like that.

This look is mine, and only mine. I refuse to share it with anything, not even a memory.

“We were doing arts and crafts earlier.” He gives me a sympathetic shake of the head. One only a parent or primary school teacher would be able to truly muster.

He takes a step closer to me and gives me a one shoulder shrug. “Point me to a desk. Preferably one behind you.” That sexy smirk graces his face again.

I laugh, trying to ignore the growing wet heat between my legs. It only makes Grady smile wider.

I point to the desk a few down from me. “Did you hear back from any of the volunteers?” Along with our families, a lot of the employees from Maddon Construction, and some of the parents, have all signed up to help the students build the booths.

“I’m going to send an email out tomorrow with different times over the next few weeks.” I nod in acknowledgement, letting out a breath. It feels like that took a few pounds off my chest. Even with two months left, it feels like we won’t have enough time to get everything done. “How would you feel about getting lunch with me on Sunday? We can walk around and talk to the business owners after. I know some of them would want to donate.”

I look at him over my shoulder, cursing myself for not thinking about that. Especially when my siblings, and best friend, are business owners down by the beach. Grady laughs at the scornful look on my face, but I nod in agreement anyway.

Maybe he deserves more of a reaction out of me, but he askedme so casually if I wanted to get lunch. I can’t assume that he was asking me on a date.

You know he was.

Okay, fine. I know he meant it as a date but maybe I want a little bit more too. My nod feels appropriate. The small smile on Grady’s face tells me that he isn’t put off by it in the slightest.

That at least makes this next part a little easier.

“What are you doing Friday night?” I stick my head under the desk, pretending that this googly eye is really stuck.

“Nothing, why?” Grady answers without hesitation. The quiet squeak of his shoes tells me he turned toward me.

“I was wo–”

“Genevieve, turn around.”

I stick my head further under the table in protest. “Why?”

I can hear his goofy smile from his voice. “When I asked you on a date, I looked you in the eye.”

Thatmakes me turn around. I swing my body around and give him a scowl. “No, you looked me in the eye when you asked how I felt about getting lunch on Sunday.” He’s about to respond, probably to say something likesemanticsor equally as infuriating. I cut him off, “So,how do you feelaboutgoing to Yellow Cab on Friday with us?”

“Us?” He raises his eyebrow, clearly not loving the idea of sharing me.

I hide my possessive delight. “Lexi’s birthday is next Tuesday. We’re celebrating on Friday.”

“Okay, sure. I feel like going with you guys.” He shrugs his shoulders, acting all too casual again. I roll my eyes and face the desk, bored of this game we’re playing. “On one condition.”

Slowly, I turn back toward him. I roll my hand in the air, indicating for him to go on.

“Okay, not a condition.I take that back.” I chuckle at that; all of the tediously annoying tension easing between us. “Viv, will you go on a date with me before we go out with everyone? I’ll pick you up at your door, we can go to Clear Horizons for a bite and a drink, then we’ll go to the bar. Afterward, I’ll take you home.”

Two things I instantly notice: he called me Viv, which is somehow much more endearing at this moment, and he didn’t specify whose home he’d be taking me to. The second one makes goosebumps pop up across my neck and back.

At this point, I’m almost positive that Grady and I both know that this is just a game of cat and mouse. I don’t really know which one is which, though. It probably changes every day, maybe every minute, where we’re concerned. As much as I enjoy it, there are a few things I would enjoy even more with him. Starting with the things he can do with his fingers.

“Yes, Grady. I’ll go on a date with you,” I say coyly, his eyes blazing at the innocent act. “We have to meet them at eight-thirty.”

---