Page 31 of Seeing Grayscale

I hope it's bad, honestly. I can handle bad.

When the sky finally breaks open, loud booms sound overhead, and a torrent of rain washes over the roof and down the windows, I close my eyes and mute the TV. Despite what I feel about all of this andknowingwhat will eventually come to pass, I can’t shut out nature's music.

The panic shooting through my limbs and rattling my brain starts to settle while my breaths even out. Wanting to see it for myself, I grab the crutches and carefully approach the wide bay window overlooking the water. It’s too dark to get much of a view, and the downpour makes the glass blurry, but I sink into the cushioned seat anyway. Pulling my leg up, I rest the crutches against the wall and lean my head against the window.

It’s the worst thing I could hope for, but I hope he comes back.

I really need Hunter to come back.

The front door clicks shut, and I jerk awake.

My hand flies for my backpack, which I no longer have, and I ball my fist over the air. It comes rushing back that I’m warm, that something soft is under me and not the familiar hard concrete.

“Shit,” a low curse registers in my ears.

Leaning over to get a good look at the entryway to the house, I spot a very wet Hunter shrugging out of his jacket. Thick, darklocks hang over his forehead as he lets the soaked material drop with a loudslapover the hardwood floors. Fingers work quickly to get his tie off, which he put back on before Perry came by earlier.

Shuddering and shivering, he pulls the tie from the collar of his dark button-up he’s been wearing since yesterday.

I left the kitchen light on earlier, not wanting it to be pitch black, but shadows in the bay window seat cover me so Hunter doesn’t see I'm in here. I don’t breathe as he frantically unbuttons his shirt. Small patches of smooth skin are revealed with every one he gets open, and then it dawns on me. He’s going to strip right there.That soaking wet, skin-tight shirt is going to comeoff.

I clear my throat, and hescreams.The pitch is so high that it nearly pops my eardrums as he leaps out of his skin. “Holyfuck,” he rasps, palming his chest.

“Whoops.” I shrug and work to get back on my feet.

Those buttons get back in place quickly before he flicks on the living room light. “I thought you would’ve been in the bedroom,” he admits. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“My bad?” I offer.

His hand flies to his hair, pushing the wet strands out of his face. All that does is make them stand up funny, and I bite my cheek so I don’t laugh. Again, he looks…rumpled. “Are you not tired?”

“Had a cat nap.” I dip my chin towards the window. “How’d it go?” The question startles me because it’s genuine. I do want to know. He seemed…really put off about it.

“It went,” he grumbles and grimaces at his outfit. “I don’t mean to be blunt, but Idesperatelyneed a shower.”

“Looks like you already had one.” I lower to the chaise as he frowns. “I take it you’re a ‘shower every day, sometimes twice a day’ kind of dude.”

“When the situation calls for it.”

My mind snags on the wordsituation.He wears suits and works in an office. What situation warrants multiple showers? It dawns on me at the exact moment he realizes what he said. My eyebrows raise in surprise and Hunter coughs.

What was that?

“Anyway,” he draws out the word. “I’ll be back in ten.” And then he’s jogging up the stairs.

Sinking back into the couch, I fiddle with the string on my sweatpants while wondering what sort of men Hunter goes out with. I’m sure he doesn’t have a problem getting anyone into his bed, not with his looks and money, but I’m struggling to figure out whattypeof guy would be good enough. Someone with money like he has? Or maybe he wants a rough one to toss him around?

I can’t really picture that one.

In fact, I can’t pictureanyone.

Not that I have a lot of experience with this shit—I don't.

I think Caleb was the only guy I actively sought out, andhedidn’t even know what he was doing. Maybe that’s why I can’t come up with a suitable partner for Hunter. Yeah, that’s it.

“Why do you even care?” I ask myself, scrubbing my face.

I don’t care. I’m just not used to being this sedentary, and so I’m bored.

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