Page 166 of Just for the Cameras
“Hey,” Hank says. “Didn’t hear back from you when I texted, so I thought I would just give you a quick call. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is fine,” I answer.
Graydon leans his forearms on his legs, staring at me, the calm from a few moments ago completely erased. Now he looks like he’s ready to rip someone’s head off with the way he’s flexing his hands and the deadly expression in his eyes.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. We, um, we worked things out.”
There’s silence for a moment.
“Is he still there?”
My eyes move to Graydon, and I say, “Yes.”
More silence.
“Okay, did he pressure you? Say…say, ‘The flamingos need food,’ if you need me to come over there and help you.”
I sigh. “It’s not like that, Hank.”
Graydon runs his tongue over his teeth, clearly ready to do some damage.
“Are you sure? Because you can tell me. You can talk to me, Maple.”
“And I appreciate that. But I promise you, everything is good.”
He lets out a long breath, and I can see him in my mind, pushing up his glasses, something he tends to do when he’s thinking. “Okay, but text me or call me if anything changes. I don’t…I don’t like the anger he holds. And I don’t ever want to see that anger pushed onto you.”
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
“I hope not.” He clears his throat. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
We both hang up, and I can practically taste the tension that has rolledinto my apartment from one simple phone call. It’s no secret that Graydon doesn’t like Hank. I noticed that the first moment they met. And it’s also not a secret that Hank doesn’t like Graydon. He hasn’t been quiet about it. And right now, I feel like I’m stuck in a tough spot, trying to navigate a world where my friend believes the man who…is interested in me is not the person I should be with. And the man who is interested in me would pay good money to be alone in a room with my friend…with no cameras.
After a stretch of silence, Graydon asks, “What does he not have to worry about?”
“Huh?” I ask.
“You told him he doesn’t need to worry about that. What were you referring to?”
“Graydon, it doesn’t matter—”
“It matters to me.” He stands. “Because that asshole is trying to move in where he doesn’t belong and plaguing you with his negative thoughts about me.”
“Really?” I ask, setting my phone down and then crossing my arms. “You truly believe that I don’t have a mind of my own and I’m letting some man taint my thoughts about you? If that’s the case, then why are you here, in my apartment, freshly fucked, while I wear your T-shirt?”
He scrubs his hand over his face, his muscles tense as he brings his attention to me. “That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s exactly what you meant, Graydon, and it’s insulting. I make my own choices, and not a single person will convince me to do anything I don’t want to do.”
“He made it a point that he was going to try to steal you away from me.”
“Okay, so what if he did? Does that mean he gets me?”
“No,” he says, the tension rolling through his shoulders easing.
