Page 64 of Built to Fall
“I’m not.” I take a bite of my wrap to prove how fine I am, chewing like it’s the most casual thing in the world and not a cover for the storm raging behind my eyes. “I don’t even know why it would matter to you so much.”
What I don’t say is, ‘I’vebeenrunning myself into the ground for a lot longer than you’ve been aware of.’
“Are you doing drugs?” he asks outright.
I start to laugh, but when the serious expression covering his face stays fully intact, I stop, confusion overcoming me. “What?”
“Are you doing drugs? Is that why you’re not sleeping? Why you had the seizure? I never heard anything about a tox screen at the hospital.”
“No. Grant, what the hell?” I stare at him, thrown. “You don’t see me for more than three days, and you immediately assume I’m strung out?”
He leans forward, eyes locked on mine like he’s trying to catch me in a lie. “If you are, you need to tell me.” His voice sounds a bit desperate now. “I can help.”
“I’m not on anything.”
“You’re not sleeping. You have been running at insane hours until you pass out and have a seizure. I’m not making this up.”
“Grant.” I lean forward in the same way he did. “I’m not doing drugs. My sleep schedule has been messed up ever since my mom’s funeral. Like the doctor said, it was my body’s reaction to pure exhaustion.”
“What do you mean your sleep schedule has been messed up?”
My shoulders hitch. “It just has been, but it’s not a big deal.”
“You slept fine at my house.”
“I was drunk.”
“So, what? You get drunk so you can go to sleep?”
I scoff. “It was one time. Don’t act like it’s part of my bedtime routine.”
The alcohol in my system must have made it easier for me to let my guard down, but it’s not like I drank with the intention of falling asleep afterward.
Grant exhales hard through his nose, the edge in his posture finally easing. “Okay. Sorry.”
“Did you just apologize?” My stunned expression makes him frown.
“I didn’t mean to come at you like that. I just—Eden’s worried. Mer’s worried, which is making Braxton worried. And yeah, maybe I’m a little worried too.”
“Well, don’t be.” I cross my arms over my chest, using the motion as armor.
“You slept at my place.”
“I was drunk,” I repeat. “Remember?”
“Yeah, but you slept.” His voice drops, softens in that way that makes me instantly want to bristle. “For probably the firstrealtime since they gave you a sedative in the hospital.”
“What’s your point?”
“Maybe you could try it again. Not the drinking part—just… sleep. At my place.”
The amount of vulnerability that would involve makes my skin crawl.
“Are you serious?”
“It’s just a suggestion,” he says quickly, hands up like he’s warding off a blow. “No strings. No Savannah. Just… sleep. You can even lock the door if that helps.”
Itdoeshelp.
