Page 81 of The Elusive Billionaire
I haven’t even begun to chew before he’s straddling my hips and staring at me so intently, I break out in goosebumps all over my neck and chest.
What did I do? Fall out of bed and give myself a black eye?
“Chew.”
I do, but only because I don’t truly want to hurt myself. Well, not any more, anyway.
Maple bacon is quite possibly the best thing ever created, and a moan escapes after I swallow. There’s no way he knew of my slight obsessions with this particular meat. Madi must have had it in the kitchen already. Or, more likely, she cooked, and that’s why it smells so good.
Grey’s eyes glow like fireflies when he’s angry, but they’re positively electric when he’s turned on. And judging by the Grinch growing against my thigh, I’d say it’s the latter.
He holds up a piece of avocado toast, and I swear my eyeballs might roll to the back of my head. It’s even topped with fresh watermelon salsa—a pain in the ass to make, but worth every delicious second.
“Why do you have all my fav?—”
Again, he feeds me. The first time took me by surprise—now I’m getting suspicious. But as annoyed as I am, Grey looks pissed off, so instead of picking a fight, I aggressively bite off a large piece of the toast.
Shit.What did I do last night? I’m sure I’m responsible for his behavior this morning, I usually am, but generally, I know what the hell I did.
I may have perfected the art of playing possum as a small child, but my shame-spiral game is next-level too, and it’s taking center stage now.
Holding my hand over my lips, I say, “I can feed myself.”
“Can you?”
I frown.
He tilts his head as though he’s truly waiting for an answer.
“I’m thirty years old, Grey,” I say through a mouthful. “I’ve been doing a lot of shit on my own for a very long time. Feeding myself is one of them.”
The fireflies I love so much narrow as his blue eyes harden like frost. He leans in, his lips ghosting above mine.
“But the question is, will you?” There’s venom and possibly fear in his tone that takes me by surprise, and my throat becomes impossibly tight, causing the avocado toast to scratch and tear on its way down.
“Can you move?” I ask. He doesn’t. “Please.”
Instead, he holds the toast to my lips again, and now that he’s thrown down the gauntlet, I clamp my teeth shut tight.
“You promised not to fight me.”
I snort. I would never in a million years agree to that, but I know if I open my mouth, he’ll feed me again.
“You promised you’d try.” My gaze snaps to his. Is that… Did I hurt him somehow?
He sighs heavily and then does the last thing I expect him to do. He places the plate on the bed, then climbs to the floor.
He backed down.
Greyson Reyes backed down—for me.
Oh, God. I did. I hurt him somehow. What the heck did I do?
“No one pays the price for hurting yourself except you, Savannah.” My real name and his words sucker punch all the air from my lungs. “I know that firsthand. Eat the food, and—and I’ll be here for you if you want to talk…about anything. In the meantime, I have some fires to put out.”
Grey steps forward and leans down as though he’s going to kiss my damn forehead, but pulls back at the last second.
“And for the record, in case your memory is a little fuzzy, just because I don’t flirt doesn’t mean I don’t know how.”
