Page 42 of Lilah
"Someone bumped into me last night," I answer and Grey lets out a sound of disapproval.
Karter remains quiet for a moment, looking between my eyes.
"Grey," he begins, turning to him, "did you know I just got my degree in behavioral science a couple weeks ago? I wanted to expand my mind so I decided why not?"
My breath lodges in my throat. I turn my head towards Grey to see his eyes already on me. His eyes trail up until they stop on mine.
"That sounds lovely," I whisper to Karter.
"What um, what does that entail?" I question nervously.
"Human interactions, expressions, thoughts, lies," I drag my eyes back to his.
I'd think that's the coolest thing in the world if I hadn't just lied to his face.
Maybe I'm just such a good liar that he didn't notice. I'm CIA trained after all.
"That's super duper fun," I smile, "I should go."
I sit all the way up, keeping my leg straight.
"I would recommend staying off your leg. Go home, get rest, and if it doesn't ease up, go to your orthopedic," he informs.
"Of course," I give a nervous nod to which he smirks at. He knows he made me nervous with that.
Sudden strong arms under my body shock me out of my nervous trance.
Grey's rippling muscles tense underneath me as he stands straight up, carrying me like I weigh no more than a feather.
Which is false. I weigh 2 tons of feathers. Well actually, two tons of feathers would mean theyweightwo tons. So I weigh 111 pounds of feathers.
"I weigh 111 pounds of feathers," I blurt out as Grey carries me to the front door.
"How often do you feel you blurt things?" Karter questions, tilting his head respectfully.
"Fuckin' often," Grey grumbles for me and I giggle softly.
"I'll take that as an all-the-time," he nods.
I say my goodbye to Karter, Grey stays mostly silent.
"You're quite dramatic," I whisper to him and he halts his steps as he arrived at the passenger side of his Jeep that I honestly love so much.
He grips my chin, pulling my face so that I'm looking directly at him. Closely, might I add.
"Don't test me Lilah," he grounds out but I hardly listen to his words too focused on his mouth as he talks.
That is until he jerks my chin up so that I'm not looking there anymore.
"Don't," his voice goes dark and I roll my bottom lip into my mouth.
His conflicted eyes leave mine and I keep my eyes on him as he stares away almost as if he's having an internal battle.
About what? Maybe about what to have for dinner tonight. Chicken or steak? Maybe even spinach or regular lettuce?
"You need to go home," he finally says something and my heart deflates in disappointment and fear.
"I don't want to go home," I whisper to myself.
