Page 38 of Breaking Point
He stops in his tracks when he realizes I’m not following. I frown at him. “But it’s my job. I’m here to assist, not suggest a workload for you to do.”
He snorts as he turns on his heel, climbing the stairs. “You’ll find out very quickly how much of a stubborn man I can be, Bella.”
My name rolling off his tongue with that cheeky tone forces me to bite my lip to hide my grin.
Because I can’t help but think there’s a double meaning to his statement.
Taking in the sight before me, I release a breath of frustration before I can stop myself.
The room is overwhelming. It’s a standard-size guest room and yet the wardrobe, bed, and floor are covered in random items. Clothing, skis, ski boots, duffel bags, and hockey equipment, along with other random sports equipment.
This isn’t a junk room. Sport paraphilia is more accurate.
Grayson rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah… Once I couldn’t see the floor, I got too overwhelmed with it and now it’s like this.”
“It’s okay. We’ll find a place for all of it. Your house is large enough and has lots of storage.”
Grayson stops beside me, his gaze slowly sliding to mine.
I shrug. “What? You weren’t here to give me a tour and I figured if I can clean up used condoms off the floor, then I can look around my new place of work.”
His body visibly shudders. “That’s disgusting.”
“It was in your house.”
“Yeah, and you best believe that wasn’t my condom.” He shakes his head. “I’m surprised you’re not being more judgmental.”
I give him my sweetest smile. “Oh, I am…on the inside.” Clapping my hands, I declare, “Let’s get started.”
I move to walk into the room before realizing he’s right, there’s nowhere to step on the floor. Sighing, I begin at the entrance, sorting clothes from paperwork and random objects while Grayson lifts the heavy sports equipment out of the room.
“I must admit, this is a first.”
“Cleaning?” I ask incredulously.
“God no. My mom raised me right, if you can believe despite the state of this room.” His voice grows quiet before he clears his throat. “The fact you have an attitude with me.”
That stumps me. “I don’t have an attitude—” At least, I’m trying not to.Fuck, I cannot lose this job. I clear my throat. “I apologize if I do. Today has just been an unusual first day and?—”
“I don’t want you to apologize. You’re not being rude. On the contrary, it’s refreshing.”
“What is?”
“That you’re treating me like a regular person,” he admits softly. “You’re not a huge hockey person, are you?”
“Not particularly. I do admire the athleticism, though.”
“Well, that is severely lacking at the moment,” he whispers under his breath.
I choose to ignore the comment, not only because I don’t think he intended for me to hear but because the tension hasleaked back into his shoulders. It’s like everywhere I turn, there’s something threatening to drag this man down.Maybe he’s stressed about the upcoming season?
“So how come you took the job?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
My eyes slide to him, watching the muscles in his arms flex as he picks up skis and carries them into the hall. My tone reeks of suspicion as I ask, “Why?”
He shrugs. “You’re not a hockey fan, and usually it’s men who take this job for the tickets or women who are very good at pretending they don’t care until I catch them watching me sleep at three in the morning.” He straightens. “You’re not a good liar, are you? You don’t like hockey, right?”
At the sight of his stricken blue gaze, I laugh. “My god, I don’t know where to start with that.” Hefting a duffel bag full of clothes closer to me, I open it up, get one waft of the stench, and decide this goes firmly in the trash pile. “For starters, most seasoned liars would say no, so either way my answer is moot. Secondly, that’s atrocious and I hope you got a restraining order.”
