Page 91 of Seeing Grayscale

I’ve never had to hide who I was before—even in my second foster home. There was never this grand ‘coming out’ moment. One day, I was a virgin, nose buried in the graphic novels I’d borrow from the school library. And seemingly the next day, I was making out with Trevor Nevens on the front porch.

Hell, I think I shoved it in their facesmorebecause I knew they hated me—wanted to keep hurting me.

I don’t remember even liking Trevor all that much; he was just a guy who was willing to kiss me.

Am I doing that now?

I might’ve said Hunter has an M.O., but I think I might have one, too, especially if I feel wanted in any capacity.

It takes a lot for me towantsomeone—Caleb is proof of that—but it didn’t take much with Hunter. No matter how wary I was of him initially, the way he looked at me…the way he didn’t forget and came back. I think even then I latched on. It’s even worse now because I’m starting toknowHunter. I know hismannerisms, his ticks and quirks. Every bit of information he willingly gives me makes me want him that much more.

And I do want him. There’s no mistaking the surge of possessiveness coursing through me.

If he let me, I’d make him mine.

He seems unbothered by my past and wants this to grow into more, and despite the twisted way he moves through his days, I can see him agreeing to whatever we have going on here, but under one stipulation: that I become like all the others—a secret.

I think I could do it if I knew for certain he wouldn’t get tired of me. How the fuck does someone reassure you that they won’t leave? Isn’t that an action type of thing? Something your person has toproveover time? I don’t have that luxury of allowing months or years to pass before I’m secure in where I stand.

I need to know before all that crap.

“Hunter?” I ask, flicking my cigarette and facing him.

“Hmm?” Still staring off, he puffs his smoke and doesn’t turn my way.

That’s not promising at all.

I want his eyes on me—want his attention and time. Looks like I’ll have to take it.

Crossing the space between us, I stand before him, and he has no choice but to acknowledge me. That far-away gleam in his eyes dims as those hazel irises search my face.

“I want to get a job,” I start. He nods, probably agreeing. “And I want to figure out a way to do it with the bare minimum from you.”

“Alright,” he says gently.

Steeling myself, I muster up the courage to say what I need to. “I don’t want you to support me. It’s not right. If I can, I’d like to turn things around as fast as possible.”

“I’m not forcing you to stay here,” he tells me, brows furrowing. “I don’t ever want you to feel like that’s the case.But…it makes me feel better knowing where you are and that…you’re safe.”

My heart squeezes. “I get that,” I whisper.

He pauses to take a drag. “And I know you want to do this on your own, but Iwantto help you. It’s what I’ve wanted this whole time.”

“I can’t become dependent on you. I won’t do that ever again.” The words are firm, masking the hurt behind them. I did it once, and look what that cost me? I might want Hunter more than I’ve ever wanted anything, but people come and go. All I’ve got is myself.

“Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“Give me time to find a job.”

“Done.”

“And I need to go to my appointment for my leg.”

“When?” he asks, closing the small space between our bodies.

“M-Monday,” I breathe when he curls his arm around my waist.

I grab his shoulder when he leans in, nuzzling my cheek and grazing his lips over the skin. “I have work, Gray,” he whispers. I am about to tell him I can bus it, but he adds, “I’ll call off.” Butterflies explode in my stomach, little bombs of flutters. I arch my neck so he can go lower, digging my fingers into the meat of his arm.

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