First Comes Love - Ashlee Price Page 0,40
you missed your cousin and ferret at least seven different times. Plus your to-do list of stuff for when you got back.” His gaze goes assessing. “You did want to go back, didn’t you?”
I turn so that I’m facing the window, glad he can’t see how my heart has suddenly picked up its pace. “Yeah, definitely. Of course. Why?”
He shrugs. “Couple times when I was drunk or tired, I figured…” He shakes his head, presses his lips together. “Forget it.”
I whirl around to glare at him. “Oh, hell no. You have to tell me now.”
“Harley—”
“Greyson. Tell me.”
“Can’t you just forget it? It’s not a big deal.”
“No,” I sing-song, “Tell me.”
“Seriously.”
“Seriously. Tell me!”
“Just how nice it would be to stay another week or two, maybe even longer.”
“Oh,” I say, so I don’t say what I want to say.
“Right.” He turns to face his window. “Like I said, not a big deal.”
“Hmm,” I say, so I still don’t say what I want to say.
As he drifts off beside me, it takes all the self-control I have not to say ‘Me too.’
Although I don’t have enough to stop myself from wondering: What happens next?
Chapter 19
Greyson
I wake up in the middle of the night. We left the window slot open and I can see murky clouds scudding across a navy sky. Harley’s asleep, her head drooped onto my shoulder. I leave it there.
I glare at the clouds.
You’re losing it, Greyson.
Although that isn’t right at all. I’ve already lost it. Sleeping with Harley was… not a mistake, but sure as shit not a smart move either.
Staying with her at Nayara Springs days longer than necessary, while dodging calls from my brothers and just about everyone else, then admitting to her that I’d actually considered staying even longer- what the fuck was I thinking?
That’s just it: I wasn’t.
But now…
My gaze wanders to Harley’s sleeping face, her half-smiling lips.
Wonder if the smile would grow if I gave them a kiss…
I grab my phone to distract myself.
On it, there’s a message on my voicemail that I got while in the airport but never checked.
“Hi Greyson, it’s Madeline. Good to hear you’ll be back soon. Just wanted to check in and give you a heads-up on something that’s in the works before you get back, if you have a chance. No pressure.”
Fuck.
It’s the ‘no pressure’ that tips me off. Despite her chirpy, ‘fish are people too’ tone, Madeline only uses the expression when things are absolute shit. Which means, on top of everything else, once I get back I’m going to have some sort of shit-storm to deal with.
Movement on my shoulder has me glancing Harley’s way. Despite her slight shifting, she’s still as contentedly asleep as ever. Somehow looking at her pretty sleeping face is like a visual stress ball: I can’t stay frustrated staring at it.
I turn away and try to look to the clouds. There’s something prickling at the edge of my mind, something that has to be dealt with, sooner or later.
I leave it for later.
**
When I wake up, it’s hours later.
“God,” Harley groans, rubbing at her neck. “Is your brain made of stone? I don’t know if my neck’s ever going to recover from how heavy your head is.”
I shrug, smirk. “Didn’t know the mystery pillow was your head until I woke up.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t under the impression this was a fair transaction—your shoulder was supposed to be my pillow, end of story.”
God she’s cute when she’s pretend angry. “How can I ever make it up to you?”
“Take me home.”
Her words are jarringly serious in our joking exchange. Her mouth falls open, as if she’s as surprised by this admission as I am.
“Wow, that came out weird.” She laughs. “I just mean—”
“I want to,” I blurt out. Then I frown. “I’ll make sure the cab gets you home safely.”
“You don’t have to do that. I don’t know why I said that. I think I’m just tired, and half-delirious, and—”
“I want to.”
“Greyson—”
“If you keep trying to argue, I am going to buy you four ice cream sundaes in the airport.”
“Four?!? Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t even want one.”
I feel like a boy, delighting in her outraged grimace. “Too bad.”
“But that’s so wasteful! All that trash and the ice cream won’t even be eaten—”
I just shrug. “Told you my terms.”
“You’re a jerk,” she snaps.
“A jerk who’s seeing you home safely tonight.”
“I’m not a damsel in distress.”
“Seem pretty distressed right now.”
Her hand jabs out to give me a playful slap. I catch it at the same