Page 36 of Seeing Grayscale

It’s all over his face, in his voice, and posture.

He wants to argue.

Badly.

I’m not going to give in, though. This has to happen because, at the end of the day,nothingwill change for him if he decides it’s all too much. He will go on with his life like I never existed. That won’t be the case for me.

So much has changed already, and I won’t forget he exists—even if I should.

Extending his hand—ever the gentleman—he waits for me to slip mine into it so he can get me on my feet. Begrudgingly, I take the damn thing, hating how smooth and warm it feels against my skin. The fresh scent of laundry detergent and residual tobacco smack me in the nostrils, luring me closer like some aphrodisiac.

And it’s not just his smell or gentle touch; it’s his eyes and his smile.

His unwarranted dedication despite the hot and cold I’ve been pouring over him.

I’m being pulled in against my will, and I will stop it before it gets worse.

When he offers me my crutches, not placing them under my arms like last time, I keep my face blank and do it myself. “How can you go back there?” he demands suddenly. Those hazel eyes of his shift color whenever his mood tanks. I noticed briefly, but this close to me, the green swallows up the brown. “Do I make youthatuncomfortable that you can’t accept help? Do youwantto stay homeless forever?”

“I didn’t get a fucking choice!” I roar, arms trembling as I hold the stupid crutches in a death grip. “I didn’t wake up one day and decide to ruin my entire life! No oneasked meif I wanted this!”

“Then?” He steps closer, trapping me between his body and the open car door. “What’s the problem, Gray? I’m giving you an out.”

“A temporary one!”

His eyebrows furrow while he searches my face in confusion. “Temporary?”

“Yes,temporary,” I sneer and try to move around him, but he doesn’t budge. “Will you fuckin’ move, man?”

“When did I ever say it was temporary?” To my surprise, he takes a step back, allowing me to hobble away from his body heat.

“It’simplied. No one, and I do mean no one, grabs a dude off the street for nothing. It’s not a thing, Hunter. And you keep…digging, wanting to find something or wanting toknowme. Like I said earlier. What the fuck are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” he snaps, shoulders hunching up as he tries and fails to mask his anger. “I’m doing what I fucking want for once. Never in my wildest dreams did I think a person likeyouwould try and dictate that.” The wordyouis spit out of his mouth.

I straighten as much as I can andspitat his feet. “Fuck you.”

What I wouldn’t give to run right now. Just dip the fuck out and leave him in the dust. After about three steps, I yell and throw the crutches. Pain shoots through my leg, but I ignore it, favoring a faster speed so I can hightail it out of here. I’m done with whatever sick fantasy he’s trying to play out.

“Gray, wait,” he calls, jogging up to me. I keep going, refusing to acknowledge that he’s got my crutches. “I didn’t mean that.”

“I did. Fuck you,” I growl.

Keep going. You can get a ride back home with someone. No one turns down free road head.

He picks up his pace to walk backward in front of me and keeps yapping, “It came out all wrong. I only meant that someone as free as you appear would understand wanting to do something that makes you feel good, no matter what anyone thinks.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s the truth. There is nothing wrong with you, Gray. Not like that.”

“Yeah? Well, there is definitely something wrong withyou. Did you not have many friends growing up? Is that it? Want me to be your little buddy? Get fucked, asshole.Move.” I try to move my legs faster, but the pain is excruciating, and I’m sweating like a sonofabitch.

“Will you stop for a damn minute?” he growls, bass lacing his vocal cords in a way that makes my stomach flip and my movements halt.

Glancing over his shoulder, he curses under his breath, and I follow his gaze. We are almost at the sidewalk that’s full of people meandering by. A few of them look at us with curious faces, and thatcareI’ve been fighting back into the depths of my brain returns with a vengeance.

Someone could overhear him—us—and that wouldn’t be good.

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