Page 79 of Breaking Point
“What’s your next move after this?”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “You’re not going to want to be my assistant forever. Do you have any goals? Do you want to get back into corporate design?”
“God no,” I say far too quickly. I didn’t even think about my answer beforehand, but I suppose with how much the thought of going back to a job like my previous one terrifies me, I have my answer.
He must read something on my face because he reframes the question. “If you had no limitations, absolutely none, what would you do?”
Draw and paint.The answer pops into my head so quickly it almost startles me.
My lips pull into a small smile before I can stop it. “I would draw. I love painting as well, but there’s something about drawing that I feel more connected to.”
He licks his lips. “What are my chances of seeing your work?”
Scoffing, I look out toward the horizon. “Not a chance.”
The Ferris wheel continues to climb, pulling us toward the top of the ride until it suddenly stops, letting those down below off. It gives me a chance to soak up the view.
Denver twinkles as bright as a shining star with the city hublights. A few linger farther out, the suburban homes choosing to live closer to the mountains—like Grayson—and then there’s darkness. Such unending darkness I know that’s where the mountain ridges start.
Grayson pulls me back to the present, nudging my shoulder with his as the Ferris wheel moves once more. “An artist afraid of showing people their work?”
I shake my head. “No, I would show you if I could.”
This has his brows furrowing. “If you could?”
Shrugging, I wish I could delay this answer, could rewind and avoid the question that led down this path all together, but I can’t do that. Instead, I admit, “I haven’t drawn in over a year.” And everything I did before is locked in a chest in my storage unit collecting dust.
“Why did you stop?”
The question hits far too close to a wound I’d rather bury, so I wink to try and put some lightness back in the area. “That’s two questions again.”
I’m grateful the end of the Ferris wheel ride looms ahead. At least I’m no longer worried about my libido. To change the topic, I blurt out, “Why me?”
“Why you?” he parrots.
I bite my cheek. “Why me? I’m assuming Lucy sent along other women for the arrangement, yet it had been a week by the time I said yes and you still hadn’t found someone.”
Grayson stiffens beside me, a flush working its way along his cheeks. I’d never tell him, but it’s the most endearing thing about him. Usually men are hard to read, and sure, Grayson has moments that make me puzzled, but it’s something special when a person wears their heart on their sleeve.
He shrugs sheepishly. “I don’t know.”
I bump my shoulder with his and smile. I’m making him squirm. “Yes, you do.”
The corner of his lip quirks. “Yes, I do.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs heavily. “You really want to know?”
I nod.
A muscle in his jaw flexes as he adverts his gaze from mine. “Because the thought of having to spend time with someone, let alone touch them intimately makes me…I don’t know. I don’t know how it makes me feel, but you’re the only one that idea sits right with.”
Something cracks in my chest. A large chunk of my armor crumbling at the pure honesty in his words.
“I know this is an uncomfortable arrangement, but I appreciate whatever changed your mind because I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”
My swallow is audible as Grayson finally turns to gaze at me, and the depths of his blue eyes swim with such open raw vulnerability my breath hitches.
It’s going to take all my willpower not to fall for this man. And every ounce of my brain power to remind myself that everything happening between us is fake.
