Page 50 of Craving Francesca

“You can hang out on the couch if you want,” he said, wrapping his hand around the back of his neck, like he wasn’t sure what the hell he should do with me. “But the only TV is back in the bedroom.”

“I’m not going to—”

“Sheets are clean,” he said at the same time. “Pretty clean. Just washed ’em at my mom’s on Saturday, so they should even still smell good.”

“Your mom does your laundry?”

He shot me a look. “No, I use my parents’ machine on Saturdays since I don’t have a setup in here.”

“Likely story,” I joked. “Uh—”

I looked back and forth between the couch and the bed, unable to make a decision. I was ready to drop. I’d barely slept the night before, the cramps were more painful than I’d anticipated, and I was standing in Gray’s home like some lost waif he’d taken in off the street.

Before I knew it, I’d started to cry.

Gray’s sympathetic eyes met mine.

“Ah, baby,” he murmured, reaching for me. He lifted me into his arms and carefully carried me back to the bed, turning sideways in the hallway so we’d fit. I was still sniffling as he sat me down and pulled the sneakers off my feet. “Crawl up to the pillows.”

I followed directions, taking my phone out of my purse before I dropped it on the floor, and made my way up to the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. The mattress was surprisingly comfortable as I curled onto my side. Minutes later, Gray was back. He slid his boots off and took off his cut before crawling up beside me, a cup with a lid and straw in his hand.

“Water,” he announced, reaching over me to set it on my side of the bed.

“Thank you,” I rasped as he lay down beside me, his shoulders propped up on the pillows. “You don’t have to stay with me. You can go do whatever I interrupted with my drama.”

He made a noise of disagreement in his throat and pulled me up until my shoulder was tucked into his armpit and my head could rest on his shoulder. “Didn’t have anythin’ better to do.”

He smelled so good. Wrapping my arm around his middle, I relaxed against his side. I wasn’t sure what had changed or what I’d done to make him care, but I also didn’t have the energy to overthink it.

“Scott’s?” he asked after we’d been lying there for a while.

My stomach lurched. “Yeah,” I whispered.

“He know?”

“Fuck no.”

“Probably a good thing,” he replied, his arm around me tightening.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Accidents happen,” he soothed, cutting me off. “It is what it is.”

“No,” I disagreed, staring at the trees outside the window. “He wasn’t wearing a condom. I thought he was, but he wasn’t.”

“Are you fuckin’ with me?” he asked in disbelief, his entire body tensing.

I felt my neck get tight as I jerked away. “No, I’m not.”

“He ask you?” Gray’s arm tightened, pulling me back.

“No.” I swallowed hard. “He was putting it on and then taking it off when I wasn’t paying attention.”

Gray was silent so I kept talking.

“I should’ve paid better attention. I wouldn’t have even noticed except he didn’t bother to pretend the night of my party, and I found the unopened condom the next morning.”

He was still silent.

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