Page 86 of Things I Wish I Said
“Okay!” I yell back.
It doesn’t take long to get to my room, since our house is so small, but once we’re inside, I turn and shut the door behind us.
Grayson laughs. “Didn’t your mom say to keep it open?”
I roll my eyes. “Kiss-ass.”
“We could’ve stayed and watched her soaps. I don’t mind,” he says, taking two steps toward my bed, then flopping down on it like he owns the place.
With his large body sprawled out over the mattress, it looks more like a twin, not a full-sized bed. I’d like to say I don’t enjoy the sight of him where I sleep, but it would be a lie. Sometimes at night, after he leaves, I bury my face in the blankets and breathe him in.
I bite my thumbnail as I take him in. From here, I can make out the shape of his pecs and the subtle ripple of abdominals beneath his shirt.
Maybe coming to my room was a bad idea. I can’t seem to pull my head from the gutter today.
My gaze drifts back to his. “I mind, Grayson. I mind very much. We’ve watched soaps with her twice already this week, and if I have to hear about Beatrice and Marcus—”
“Marcum,” he corrects me.
“Whatever.” I throw my hands out. “If I have to hear about those two one more time, I’ll go insane.”
“Isn’t the whole point to be around her, though? So she can see us together, get to know me, build trust. Blah blah blah.”
“Yes, but I think she likes you more than she likes me at this point, so mission accomplished,” I say, feeling irritable for no reason.
Grayson laughs, and I snatch one of my throw pillows off the bed and toss it at him.
“Be serious,” he says.
“Oh, I am. I wanted to finish off the last of that fluffy strawberry fruit dip last night, and you know what she said? She gave me this haughty look and said she was saving that for you because it’s your favorite.”
Grayson tips his head back, laughing even harder now and clutching the pillow to his face to smother the sound, and even though I’m annoyed, I have to admit, laughter from Grayson is so hard won it lights me up from the inside out like a human lightning bug.
“She did not,” he says, more serious now.
“She did. I had to eat my apples plain.” I grimace to emphasize my displeasure.
“Well, her dip is my new favorite. It’s fucking epic.”
“Yeah, well, I polished it off when she was in the shower this morning,” I say with a grin.
Grayson gasps. “How dare you!”
I shrug, feeling rather good about myself.
“Aw, is someone feeling jealous?” he teases. “Worried I’ll replace you and become the son your mom never had?” he mocks.
I scoff. “As if.”
“You sure about that?”
“I’m just annoyed because you’re a pain in my ass right now,” I say, smacking him in the arm.
“Take it back,” he says, his tone a warning.
“Never.” I lift my chin, and before I know what’s happening, Grayson lunges for me, tickling me under my arms until I fall back on the bed.
I gasp when he moves to my ribs. “Stop!” I manage between cries of laughter bordering on pain. “Stop—stop it nowwww!”
