Nope, but I’m definitely big enough to squash you two like fucking bugs under my heel. I’m about to tell them as much when Gray glares at them. He catches hold of Angie’s wrist and moves her away from him.

“Yeah, I don’t think so. Not when you’ve insulted my friend.” He gives her another assessing look. “Not ever, in fact.”

Her mouth falls open, but he isn’t paying attention. Gray grabs his coat from the hook behind him and brushes past the two girls. Ignoring the looks of his friends, and the pouting protests of Thing One and Two, Gray takes my hand in his. “Come on, Mac, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

I don’t point out that we’re in a restaurant or that we devoured wings an hour ago, but let him lead me away.

* * *

As soon as we get home, I go to my room, put on my PJs, and scrub my face clean. I might like to dress up now and then, but I’d rather be comfortable. And it’s just Gray with me now.

He’s heating up leftover white-bean soup when I return. Gray had brought the soup over earlier. It’s no secret that he loves cooking, and he’s really good at it. Apparently, his mom taught him, and he’d been the one to cook for his family when she was sick.

His big body moves with ease around the kitchen. He’s taken off his sweater, and his thin, ratty T-shirt drapes over his tightly toned torso like a caress. For a moment, I envy that shirt, the way it slides over his skin when he reaches for the bowls.

My gaze moves to his firm ass encased in old jeans. I’m pretty sure his butt should be cast in bronze and immortalized for posterity. Or maybe all of him. It’s like Thor’s landed in my kitchen and taken over late-night supper. Suppressing a snicker, I join him.

Gray turns, and his gaze slides over me. “Wonder Woman PJs. Excellent.”

“Just be glad I wore a bra.” I grab the spoons.

Gray halts mid-stride and utters a small groan. “Is there any chance you’d take your bra off now?” The tip of his tongue flicks out to touch his bottom lip. “Because that would so make my night, Special Sauce.”

His teasing shouldn’t send a pulse of heat between my legs. But it does. And I’m thankful that I’m wearing a bra now. Otherwise, I’m fairly certain my nipples would be saluting him.

We’re quiet as we eat. I don’t want to talk about what happened, but it’s all I can think about. Is this how my mom felt when she went out with Dad? Had she constantly had other women rubbed in her face? But that had been different. My mom and dad had been a couple. I’m just Gray’s friend. His buddy.

It’s a struggle to eat.

As for Gray, he looks equally downcast. I’m not sure why. He’s never hidden the fact that he likes to hook up. A lot. Am I getting in his way? I don’t want him to feel as though he has to babysit me. That would be too humiliating.

“You…” My hand clenches tight. “You didn’t have to take me home, you know. You could have gone home with those girls. I wouldn’t have been offended.”

I shove a spoonful of soup into my mouth to stop myself from taking it all back. But it’s too late. Gray’s eyes narrow, and his soft lips become flat and hard. He eyes me for an uncomfortable minute, one in which I inwardly curse my big mouth.

When he speaks, it’s low and deep. “Yeah, I know, Ivy.” His chair creaks as he leans forward, the irritated glint still in his eyes. “I wanted to hang out with you.”

Seems that’s all both of us want to do lately. Gray has quickly become my world, and it scares me a little. Because it’s becoming something I can’t control. I stab at my soup.

“It’s just…ah, well, the guys made it sound as though you kind of used to hook up every night.” And didn’t that make my stomach turn to lead. Which was all kinds of messed up. I certainly didn’t own Gray.

He makes a noise of annoyance. “The guys were exaggerating. And, what the hell? I didn’t want to go home with those chicks. It’s no big deal.”

His expression is mulish as he tucks back into his soup. I don’t know whether I want to smile or cringe. But I’ve upset him, which I don’t want.

“I don’t like how they talked about you,” Gray mutters.

Though my face flames, I shrug. “It’s not like I don’t hear similar comments. A lot.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“No.” I sigh. “But who are we kidding? I’m six feet tall. Growing up with my dad, or when I was around his clients, I never felt particularly tall. But there are days when I feel like a total oaf around other women.” Around guys too, but I’ve said enough. I’m too tender from tonight’s humiliation.

Gray glares at me. “You’re perfect. And hell, Mac, have you seen me? I’m a fucking tree.” He snorts. “I remember hitting my full height. Kept banging into everything. I really did feel like Gulliver around the Lilliputians. Sometimes I still do.”

“Yeah, but you lumber so gracefully.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Never let them see you sweat, right? And I’m serious, Mac. You’re perfect just the way you are. I love not having to throw my back out just trying to meet you at eye level. So no more crazy talk about letting me go home with a couple of jock riders who I didn’t even want touching me, anyway. Okay?”

“Okay, okay. Geesh.”

We both kind of glare and nod in agreement, slightly smiling at each other but still a bit awkward. And then we’re silent again.




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