15. Grayson

Chapter 15

Grayson

I 'm smiling as I read the very last sentence of Macy's novel. I set it down on the couch cushion beside me when I hear a muffled voice from out front. I get up and peek through the window to see Macy on my front steps, appearing to be in a heated discussion with someone. She's all alone. I swing the door open, and she wobbles a little, looking up at me wide-eyed. "Gray-son!" she slurs.

I lift a brow. "Party a little too hard did we, Mace?" I grin.

Her eyes droop in an adorable way. "There's no party." She frowns. "Not a fun one at least," she mumbles.

I open the door wider for her to come in, and she does. I look down, she's wearing two different flip flops on her feet. I watch her struggle to kick them off, and once she does, she helps herself to my cabinet, grabbing a cup and filling it up with water from my sink. "I'd love some, thanks," she says.

I chuckle. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"Have you ever cheated on someone?" she asks, plopping down on my couch as if it were her own. She sprawls out completely, leaving no room for me. I sit on the coffee table across from her.

"I've never had someone to cheat on."

She frowns. "That's surprising."

"Why's that?"

"How have you of all people never been in a r-relationship?" she says slowly.

"Me of all people?"

"You're hot," she clarifies.

"You think I'm hot?" I grin.

"You're tall and muscled and have a good face." She shrugs and then shoots me a pointed look. "Don't let it get to your head." She sighs. "You can't help me then."

"Because I've never cheated on someone?"

She nods quickly, leaning to the side as if she can't control her own body. How much has she had to drink?

"Maybe I can still help you."

She stares at me for a while, her eyes tracing my features before she says, "I was going to ask what it was about your girlfriend that made you cheat on her."

My teeth ache as I tightly clench my jaw, trying to keep my composure. "Has someone cheated on you?"

She groans. "Don't remind me."

"Wally?"

" Walter," she corrects. "But yes, he cheated on me." She looks thoughtful for a moment. "Do you think it was because of my eyes?"

"Your eyes?"

"They're so big. Maybe he wanted someone with smaller eyes."

I get down from the coffee table and kneel before her. "Stop. Your eyes are lovely. I could stare at them all day and never grow bored," I tell her honestly. "If Walter slept with other women, it's because he doesn't have an ounce of respect for you. And I'm sorry if that's harsh, but it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him," I say with complete conviction. "That moron doesn't deserve such an exceptional woman by his side. And you certainly don't deserve to be with a fool."

"I let him disrespect me. I'm the fool."

I frame her face in my hands, taking in the pretty freckles lining her nose. "You are not a fool. You have a big heart, and I know enough about you to know you wanted to see the good in him. You can't fault yourself for loving someone. You just loved the wrong person, but now you can give that love to someone who deserves it." My eyes search hers, and I realize as I capture the expression on her face, that I want it to be me.

I want to be a man worthy of her heart.

She reaches for the hem of her shirt and struggles to pull it up. I still her hand. "What are you doing?"

She leans into me, and before I can tell what she's trying to do, she kisses me. I pull away. "You're drunk, Macy."

She smiles seductively, but her eyelids droop from the alcohol. "Fuck me, Grayson." Her lips curl around the words but they are all wrong.

"No."

She winces.

"I'm not touching you right now, Mace," I say gently.

"You don't want to?"

"I'd be more than willing to take you to my bed when you are sober and if you still want to." I brush my thumb over her cheek and then grab the water she got for herself off the coffee table. "Drink this."

She takes a single sip and hands it back, so I shake my head. "Drink all of it for me please."

She slowly gulps the entire thing, wiping her top lip when she's finished.

"Come on, I'll walk you home." I stand, holding my hand out to help her up.

She interlaces our fingers, and it makes my blood heat. Once we're in her house, I ignore the sight of her new treadmill and ask which room is hers, and then walk her there. I take in the small space. She has an accent wall covered with orange wallpaper and her bedspread is sky blue. Everything about the way she decorated is so true to herself.

She pulls off her pants as if I'm not standing here. I look away until she's beneath the covers. "I'll be right back," I say, then dig through the kitchen cabinets until I find what I'm looking for. She's already snoring when I return only a minute later. I put two Advil on her bedside table with a full glass of water. I shouldn't, but I press my lips against her temple before I leave.

Once I'm in my own bed, I glance through my window facing her house. My chest aches in a familiar way.