I blinked. “I might be.”
Our glares clashed in a stalemate.
Did he think I was just pining after him? That I’d lit a candle and closed up shop in my vagina because Grayson Crowne ruined me? I mean, yes, but he didn’t get to know that.
The air was frostier than outside, and I lost myself in his blue glare, forgetting we had an audience until she cleared her throat.
“Well, you should know, if you were worried about hurting the baby. I know some people are, and sex is perfectly safe during pregnancy.”
I turned to her. “Thank you.”
I felt his tension. I felt it all the way to the car, until he snatched the door away from the driver, opening it for me.
“Get in,” he growled.
I bristled, hating him for barking orders at me, but also liking that he cared enough to open the door. I slid in, and he kept his hand on the door, bending over so he caged me in my seat.
“Slide over,” he said.
“We’re taking separate cars…”
He bent farther, until his breath warmed mine. “We were taking separate cars.”
Thirty-Four
GRAY
* * *
I worked my bottom lip between my thumb and forefinger over and over until it bruised. It was stifling in the car, even though we sat on opposite sides.
Friends.
We’re fucking friends.
Friends talk about this shit.
Friends do not think about what the other friend was doing, where her hand was, if her legs were spread or back arched—
Fuck.
“Has that problem of yours resolved?”
Snitch lifted her eyes to mine. “My problem?” she questioned. Then, realizing what I was talking about, she scoffed. “Not yet.”
“Yet?” I gritted, working my lip harder.
She looked away, folding her arms.
In my world, where morals and dignity were rarer than diamonds, I only ever wanted to be loyal. To not be the man my father was. It should have been so fucking easy. Tell yourself not to do something—don’t be that guy.
But I want her.
That want stretches my loyalty like fine lace.
“You gonna have West help you out?” I asked.
She jerked her head to mine. “What’s it to you, Grayson Crowne?”