Page 61 of Mr. Edwards
He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. “What are you trying to say? You don’t want to marry me now?”
“Can you hear yourself?” I swing around to face him. “We’ve known each other a few months, Grayson, it’s way too soon to be talking about marriage.”
I snatch my arm out of his grip and turn to walk away. I’m not fighting with him about some make-believe wedding.This is insane.When the garage door starts to come down, I clench my hands into fists. It’s going to be like that is it? I’ll beat his ass if I have to.
“Stop running away from me when things get too hard,” he shouts, snagging me around the waist. “I never pegged you for a coward.”
“That’s because you don’t even know me.”
“I know you better than you think. You’re a fighter… you’ve had to fight your entire goddamn life, and I’m so fucking sorry for that. But you’re not a victim of circumstances, you’re a fucking warrior, Carlee. Start acting like one.”
His words only add fuel to the fire that’s burning within. My stance widens and one hand wraps around his wrist, the other moves to his bicep, and before I realizewhat’s happening, I’ve cocked my hip in his direction and he’s flipping over my shoulder and crashing down onto the concrete by my feet.
“For fuck’s sake,” he says infuriated.
I need to stop manhandling him like this.
When I attempt to step over him, he clutches my ankle. I try to shake him off but his grip is unrelenting. “I’m not letting you go until we’ve sorted this shit out.” I open and close my fists a few times, trying to rein in my anger. He doesn’t know when to quit. “I just want to wake up with you here, is that too much to ask?”
He keeps his fingers wrapped around my lower leg as he sits up, tethering me to him. I don’t know why he bothers because the fucker has locked me in his garage, so it’s not like I can go anywhere.
“Don’t do this,” I say.
“Do what?”
“Try to make me feel bad, do you think I like being this way?” I twist my body in his direction and point to my chest as tears burn the back of my eyes. “This… the way I am, it wasn’t a choice you know?”
He pushes himself to his feet, sliding his arms around my waist.
His chest rises and falls as his sad eyes scan over my face. “I just want you here, so if it means you have to stay in one of the spare rooms then so be it. I’ll settle for just having you under the same roof.” I inhale a sharp breath because the hurt I hear in his words slays me. “Please stay, sunshine,” he pleads. “Please.”
How can I argue with that?
We come to a stop when we reach the threshold of the spare bedroom. One of Grayson’s T-shirts is tucked under my arm. Since I didn’t have any other clothes with me, he offered to lend me something to sleep in; he also let me choose which room I wanted. The master bedroom takes up the entire top floor, so it didn’t matter which one I took because we’re not even on the same level.
It’s just after midnight, and since he has work tomorrow, he suggested we head to bed. We started to watch a movie earlier, but we were only five minutes in before Grayson had me pinned to the couch with his hands down my pants. By the time the credits rolled, we were still going at it.
“Are you sure you want to stay down here all by yourself?”
I’m not certain about any of this.
Internally, I’m freaking the fuck out about spending the night here, but I plaster a smile on my face to try and mask it.
I’ve slept in a total of three beds in my lifetime. The trailer, the room I had above the gym, and the apartment I’m living in now. I’ve never stayed at motels, or anywhere other than my residence. Not even Emma’s. I prefer my own surroundings. Familiarity gives me comfort.
My eyes quickly flicker down to Grayson’s chin when I see the hopeful expression in his eyes. I’m not falling for his emotional blackmail again. His puppy dog eyes and sweet words are what got me into this mess in the firstplace. It’s a shitty move on his part, but I don’t want to fight about it anymore.
“I’m positive,” I answer.
Grayson tries hard to hide his disappointment, but I see straight through it. I hate that this is hurting him. I wish I could tell him the reasons why we can’t sleep in the same room, but that’s never going to happen.
“One day I’m going to get you in my bed, Miss Just-Carlee… and what a sweet day that will be.”
“I believe you’ve already had me in there numerous times,” I say teasingly, trying to lighten the mood.
“I mean for something other than fucking.”
“You could feed me breakfast in bed tomorrow morning,” I offer, twisting the hem of his T-shirt around my fingers. “I’d gladly come up to your room then.”
