My head snapped up as I smiled at the handsome man in front of me. My eyes roamed his perfectly toned body as I felt a pull in my lower stomach.
Struggling to find my voice, I grinned and said, “It was Mitchell.”
Grayson lifted his eyebrows. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Mitchell.”
My interest was piqued. “Oh yeah? What about?”
The refrigerator opened and Grayson pulled out a beer. With a quick twist of the cap, the bottle hit his lips and caused me to moan internally. What I wouldn’t give to have those lips kiss my body. My breasts. My stomach. My throbbing wet—
“Meg? Are you listening to me?”
I shook my head to rid me of my dirty thoughts. “What? I’m sorry what did you say?”
“I asked you if you knew Mitchell didn’t really want to be a cop?”
Staring at Grayson like he was insa
ne, I let a quick chuckle out. “What? Of course he does. His mother said Mitchell wants to be a cop just like his father was.”
Grayson leaned back against the kitchen sink and looked intently at me. “Has Mitchell ever told you that?”
I went to answer when I slammed my mouth shut as I thought about it. In all the meetings I’d had with him, he never once really told me he had a desire to be a cop.
“He hasn’t has he?”
For some reason this bothered me, knowing I hadn’t caught on to the fact that Mitchell hadn’t ever said his true desires. Grayson caught on to it just by spending one afternoon with Mitchell.
“How . . . what makes you think you know what he wants?” I asked as my body flushed with anger.
Grayson pushed off the counter. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Meg. He told me.”
My mouth dropped. “He told you what exactly?”
Pulling in a deep breath, Grayson blew it out. “That it was his mother’s dream for him to follow in his dad’s footsteps. Mitchell wants to play pro football and would like to be a coach after college.”
I was positive Grayson heard the slamming of my heart against my chest. “He’s never once mentioned that to me.”
“Have you asked him or did you just assume?”
My eyebrows pinched together as I glared at Grayson. “Are you saying I don’t do my job well?”
A look of shock moved across his face. “No! I’m not saying that at all. Maybe the kid just felt more comfortable telling me.”
“That’s just you covering up for saying I’m doing a shitty job with Mitchell.”
Grayson closed his eyes and shook his head before opening them again and looking directly into my eyes. “Meg, that’s not what I was saying. I’m just telling you what he told me. You do what you want with it, but honestly I’m exhausted and I don’t feel like turning this into an argument with you.”
Lifting my hands up, I slowly shook my head. “Oh, by all means let’s just stop talking about it because that’s what you like to do when things get a little complicated for you. You either clam up or you fuck the hell out of me. I guess you’re too tired for option number two.”
I spun on my heels and headed to the living room where I grabbed my book and purse. Slipping on my tennis shoes, I reached for my jacket.
“Where are you going?”
Not even bothering to look at Grayson, I said, “Home.”
“Meg. Come on, what in the fuck is bothering you?”
Not even wanting to respond, I pulled open the door and quickly walked through it as I gave it a hard pull. It slammed behind me as I heard Grayson yell out and glass hitting the front door.