Page 129 of The Innovator

That was good news, right?

Grayson didn’t need to see me all worked up. That would only stress him out. I had to be strong for both of us. We could get through this hurdle.

I reached the last room, stopped a moment to breathe and gathered myself to be presentable. With the back of my hand, I wiped the tears from my eyes, opened the door, and entered.

“Oh, my God.” I rushed in, tossed my purse onto the armchair, and went over to him. “How did this happen?” I placed a hand on his cheek, afraid to touch him elsewhere.

A cast covered his left leg, another one protected his arm, and several layers of gauze wrapped around his neck. He had a bandage on his forehead with a fat stain that looked like dried blood.

Tears stung my eyes, but I pushed them back. He didn’t need to see me cry right now. “My poor baby. Are you in pain?”

He nodded and looked at me. “But not anymore, because you’re here.” He let out a groan, followed by another.

“What happened?”

“I was working on The Prism.” He released another groan.

“Grayson.” I sighed. “I asked you to leave those tasks to the contractors. Just because you know how to build doesn’t mean you have to show off your skills. Look at you! You should think about your future. About me.” I placed a hand over my heart.

“I wanted to show you how much you mean to me. Each brick I placed in that building has my love, sweat, and effort embedded in it. I designed and built it for you.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks. “You’re so stubborn. What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me forever.” Another groan escaped him, followed by a wince.

My heart quickened as the window to my soul opened for him. I’d never stopped loving him. He was the sacred thread that stitched my heart and soul together as one.

“I already do,” I said.

A goofy smile appeared on his face, and he didn’t look as ill as he should have.

“How long do you need to keep the cast and gauze on? What happened to your forehead and your neck? Did you lift an entire floor?” I reached for the bandage, wanting to touch it, but he shifted away too fast, making me stare at him suspiciously.

Guilt—like a kid being caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to—splashed across his face.

I got off the bed and walked around, surveying his body. Narrowing my eyes at him, I played along. “Your bandage needs changing. The blood has seeped through. Have you been resting well?”

He shook his head and offered me a groan that I could now confirm was fake.

“Let me get the nurse to give you a shot.” From where I stood, I could see the awful way the gauze had been wrapped around his neck. It looked like a first-grader had done it. The bandage looked like ketchup had been carelessly squirted on it. A few spots appeared like fingers trying to smear excess ketchup away.

“I’m not feeling well,” he said, trying to see what I was looking at.

“They have these new shots to treat Asshole-itis.” With a swift movement, I yanked the bandage off.

“Ow.” He sat up, removed the casts from his body, and tossed them onto the bed. “I knew it was a dumb idea.”

I crossed my arms and glared at him. “And whose idea was that?”

He walked over to me and took me into his arms. “The boys. They knew I was waiting for you to take me back and thought this dare would prove you still love me.”

His eyes bored into me.

“Grayson, if you want to know if I still love you, all you have to do is ask. Not think of this ridiculous scenario that scared the shit out of me. You can’t even act.”

He laughed. “I know. It’s not my talent. So . . . Do you forgive me?”

“Yes, I do.” I smacked his chest playfully. “But if you pull off something like this again, I’ll have to reconsider.”

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