Page 57 of Seeing Grayscale

“I expect to hear all about the date tomorrow. If you do this right, we might be throwing an engagement party and announcing your step into politics!”

“Dad—”

“Crap. I’ve got to run. 8 am, Hunter. Don’t be late,” he barks, then hangs up.

I get back into the shower, close the door gently, and stuff my face into the spray.

Of all the things to say, I chose to saythat.

My mystery date is now going to be something I’ll have to prove. My parents will want to meet her, find out who her family is, and everything else. All the while, this woman doesn’texist.I stand there, slowly drowning, until my lungs scream for air. Sputtering, I reel back and yank at my hair.

It’s alright. You can say the date went terribly and that she wasn’t the one.

And then my dad will remind me how much I need to ‘man up’ again.

My stomach sinks.

So much for a fucking day off.

TWENTY-SIX

Iscantheparkinglot like a hawk.

There’s no sign of Dan, but I’m second-guessing my choices. Never in my wildest dreams did I thinkHunterwould request one of my go-to breakfast foods:cannedcorn beef hash.

I mean, it’s god-tier processed potato mush, but he’s…fancy.

When he told me his craving, I blurted the first diner I knew that had the goods, eager to get him what he wanted.

Why, you might ask? I have no fucking idea.

After his shower, Hunter seemed withdrawn and miserable. Like the pristine tile and frosted glass shower doors personallyoffended him. It threw me off completely. At first, I thought he was trying to get rid of me, but then he got handsy and sweet, smiling at me like I hung the damn moon. But that shower did something, and I’m slightly paranoid about our flimsy situation.

I could’ve picked a different diner, though.

Chewing my thumb nervously, I lean forward again, craning my neck in search of the psychopath who sent his goons to assault and fuck me up. He’s not here. I have to accept that. At least he’s notoutside.

“What’s wrong? I thought you said this place was good?” Hunter asks, sliding the e-brake into place.

“It is,” I rush out. Slowly meeting his gaze, my stomach sinks like a giant rock. “There is just this…dudethat doesn’t like me. He hangs around here sometimes,” I admit.

His jaw ticks. “Raymond?”

I shake my head, fiddling with the drawstring of my hoodie. “No. Not him. A different guy.”

“What does he look like?”

A pathetic tremor passes through me while I keep shaking my head. I don’t want to describe Dan—don’t want him even being in the same sentence as Hunter. “Can we go somewhere else? I’m sure we can find good corned beef somewhere,” I beg shamelessly.

“Gray,” he coos, twisting in his seat. “You have to stop assuming I will blow a gasket if something changes. I didn’t have my heart set onthisrestaurant, and even if I did, I’d never force you to go into it when you’re uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that,” I argue. “I didn’t think you’d be mad at that. You seemed so excited over the food, and after your shower, you looked upset. I wanted to keep our day good. That’s all.” The confession surprises me. I hadn’t meant to say all that.

More and more, I’m dropping my guard with this guy. I’m letting him in—allowing him to see the raw, beat-up pulpbeneath my scales. And when his eyes soften, understanding and something…else passing his features, my heart flutters hard. I’m playing with fucking fire when it comes to Hunter, knowing that eventually I’ll get burned.

“Our dayisgood,” he insists. “And I know just the place we can go to for breakfast. Might be a bit of a drive, though.”

“Let’s go,” I beam, eager to get as far away as possible.

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