Page 33 of Losing Forever
“Morning,” she says as I enter the lobby. “Everything okay?”
“Mm-hm.” I nod.
Things have been weird with her, too. Ever since her date with Grayson, she’s been giving me pity eyes and trying to assist me however she can. I see this reaction from people all the time once they learn about the accident or my family’s death, which means he told her something about me.
“Can I get you coffee?” She hops to her feet.
“No. No, thank you.” I refuse to let her fetch me coffee like Grayson and Noah do. Not that she seems to care. Her twinkling eyes and bouncing steps lead me to believe she likes catering to them.
Grayson’s office door is closed when I walk by. Like always, he sits at his desk, his face buried in his laptop while he crushes real estate courses like a man on a mission.
Noah loves seeing Grayson this dedicated, but I can’t keep from feeling his determination has something to do with me. Did I do or say something to set him off that day at the house? Is it why he’s avoiding contact with me?
I stroll through the open door to my and Noah’s office. “I’m here.”
He doesn’t respond. With the way his head keeps bobbing, my guess is he’s on a call.
I touch his shoulder to get his attention.
He glances at me and nods. A white earbud sticks out from his ear.
Yep. On a call.
I open my laptop and pull up the schedule of work being done on the house today. With the demolition complete, the drywalls are going up. Materials like tiles and flooring will arrive soon.
“Hey, Bray,” Noah says. “How was the appointment?”
“Fine.” I turn in my chair to face him. “I’m the same as before. No worse, no better.”
The doctor visits aren’t necessary. I do them for Aunt Lina. After the accident, I had tics in certain muscles. Under my eye or my hand. It happens sometimes after the kind of injuries I sustained. The neurologist assured her they were temporary and would go away. If they didn’t, we would do other tests, but they stopped a while ago. Regardless, she worries and insists I have bi-annual check-ups to make sure I’m okay.
“I think you’re better,” Noah says. “You used to clutch your scarf all the time. Now, you barely wear it. You also seem more relaxed, and you’re doing a helluva job with the house design.”
I beam. “Thank you, Noah. You should tell your mom this in a report. Maybe she’ll ease up on the routine text-ups.” Noah and I made up the name, replacingcheckwithtext,not long after we arrived here.
He laughs. “I don’t think anything but time will get her to lighten up. She worries about you too much.”
“I know.” I sigh. Her heart is in the right place. I’m all she has left of her sister, and she’s protective of that. “I still can’t believe she let me come here, or that she hasn’t visited to see how I’m doing in person.”
Noah taps his pen on his desktop. “Believe me, she’s tried. I keep blocking her, telling her I have a close eye on you.” He winks.
“You’re the best, Noah.”
He stretches his arms high and smiles. “I am pretty awesome.”
I toss a lemon lozenge at him.
He catches it—of course he does—and unwraps the plastic. “Thanks.”
“Those are the vitamin C candies your mom suggested I keep on my desk,” I warn him. I don’t eat them but wanted to have some out in case she visited to make her happy. She notices those kinds of things.
“She used to send me bags of them in college. They’re good. I like the orange better, though.” He pops it into his mouth.
“What are your plans for today?” If he’s going to the job site, I want to join him. “Oh. Your keys.” I dig them out of my purse and toss them to him.
“Thanks.” He slips them in his pocket. “I’m working until six and then heading to Tampa to meet Siani.”Shaw-neeis how he pronounces her name.
“How many dates is this now?” I tease.
