Page 161 of Just for the Cameras
I give her aget reallook. “Try kicking me out,” I scoff while pulling up DoorDash on my phone and then handing it to her. “Go ahead, put in an order for whatever you want.”
“Um, this is the same thing that’s on my phone.”
“No, it’s not, because it’s my credit card being charged, not yours.”
“Graydon, I can buy things.”
“I’m aware, but you’re not buying things when I’m around.” When she goes to protest, I add, “Don’t argue with the millions in my bank account. Okay?”
She sighs. “I don’t like taking advantage of you.”
“You’re not. I’m forcing you to let me pay.”
She chuckles. “Uh-huh, and what if I say no?”
“Don’t test me,” I say, my arm snagging around her waist, making her laugh.
“And here I thought I softened you up.”
One single brow picks up as I look at her. “Maple, if you’ve accomplished anything tonight, you’ve hardened me.”
Her eyes flash to mine in humor. “Oh, look at you being clever and carefree, just like in your texts.” She leans forward and kisses my lips. “I like it.”
Then she goes back to my phone and picks a store. “Now what sort of condoms do you use?” She gives me a mischievous expression, and it’s so damn cute.
“Give me that.” I take the phone from her, making her laugh, and I add condoms, a toothbrush, a shirt, and a few other things to the cart before I check out, making sure the delivery comes directly to me, because the quicker I can get those condoms, the better.
When I set my phone down, she turns to straddle my lap and pushes me up against the back of the couch.
I let my hands rest on her hips while her palms sear into my chest. “I’ve been meaning to say something to you, but I haven’t really had a great chance.”
“Hit me,” I say, feeling so goddamn relaxed that it actually feels unnatural.
“The mural. I know I said thank you, but I really want you to know how special it is. I had no idea you knew how to paint, and then to do it so beautifully, with all the hidden meaning behind it. It means so much to me, Graydon. Thank you.”
I smile softly at her, making her face light up. “You’re welcome.”
“Look at you smiling.” She says it in a way that’s more in awe rather than teasing. “You need to do that more often.”
“I think I might,” I say, smoothing my hands over her legs. “And I’m glad you like the mural.”
“Where did you learn to paint like that?” she asks, her thumb rubbing over my chest.
I swallow thickly, the answer on the tip of my tongue. I’ve never reallytalked about this with anyone. Hutton knows a little bit of my past—because my family was in the public eye—but talking about the accident and my childhood is something I haven’t done. But this is Maple. So warm, so welcoming. I feel myself loosening that tight grip I have on my past. I truly believe I can trust her.
Clearing my throat, I softly say, “My mom.”
She pauses for a moment, her head tilting to the side as she studies me. “Your tone makes me think that maybe your mom isn’t here with us anymore?” she asks. “And I’m sorry if that’s overstepping.”
I shake my head, my nerves getting the best of me as I try to find my voice. “She, uh, she’s still here, but not technically with us,” I say, the words rushing out of me, filling me with relief but also dread.
“Oh.” Maple continues to rub my chest with her thumb. “I don’t want to pressure you to talk, but if you want to share more, I’m here to listen.”
I look into her eyes and feel the truth in those words. There’s no judgment there. There’s understanding. There’s empathy.
And this is why I like her, because she offers me a sense of calm in the wake of the destruction blistering through my head.If only I’d seen this on Monday, rather than lashing out at her. Fuck, I’m a dick.I lift her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles, so grateful that I made the decision to pursue her.
“I’ve never told anyone this or ever talked about it, really,” I say to preface my next statement.
