Four Little Words
Griff
I caught the towel with one hand and wrapped it around my waist as Maisie's announcement hit home. We need to talk.
The words landed like a punch to the gut.
Nobody with a brain likes hearing that.
And me? I was no idiot.
I'd known something was wrong the moment I had opened the door. Actually, scratch that. I'd known from the pounding.
Not knocking. Pounding.
And what had I done?
I'd told her to fuck off.
Shit . Maybe I was an idiot.
Barely a beat had passed since she'd said those four little words, but it felt like a lifetime before I answered. "Sure. Come in." I stepped aside, giving her plenty of room to pass.
She didn't budge. "That won't be necessary."
I didn't get it. "But you just said – "
"I can talk from here."
Fuck.
This was bad. "Maisie…"
Her mouth thinned. "Montgomery." She said it like a curse, her voice low and sharp, like the name had curdled on her tongue.
I froze.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She smirked. "So it's true?"
I wasn't one to stall. And yet, I heard myself ask, "Which part?"
She threw up her hands. "You tell me."
"Tell you what?" I winced. Damn it. I sounded like a kid bullshitting a cop. I tried again. "Come on in. We'll talk, alright?" I forced a smile. "You can have the chair."
She didn't smile back. Now, even the smirk was gone. "Keep it."
I kept my own smile fixed in place. "Can I at least get dressed?" Okay, maybe I was stalling, but only because I didn't know what to say. Hell, I didn't even know what Maisie had learned.
But let's say she'd learned everything, was it really so bad?
Not the way I saw it.
My smile slipped as I added, "Unless you want me standing here in a towel."
"Fine."
Hoping to break the tension, I went for a joke. "So you're fine with the towel?"
She eyed me like I'd just offered her a drink from the toilet. "No," she stiffly replied. "I mean, fine, if you want to get dressed, I'll wait."
"Great, I'll be right back." Any other day, I wouldn't have thought twice about getting dressed in front of her. But from the look in her eyes now, the last thing she wanted was to see more of me.
And hey, I wasn't one to push – at least not when it came to that.
I hitched my towel tighter and strode toward the bathroom, where I'd already laid out some clean clothes. As I moved, I called over my shoulder, "You wanna wait on the balcony?"
She gave a loud scoff. "Why would I do that? I already said I'm not coming in."
At the bathroom door, I turned around to face her. "Yeah, but the balcony's more out than in." I glanced toward the balcony door. "And trust me, the air's a lot fresher than where you're standing now."
She practically snorted. "Trust you ?" But then, she marched into the apartment, anyway, leaving the door wide open behind her – as if she didn't plan on staying long enough to make shutting anything worth her while.
With barely a glance in my direction, she headed straight toward the balcony, yanked open the door, and stepped outside, leaving that door open, too.
Well, if nothing else, we'd be getting a nice cross-breeze.
But that was a cold comfort as I shut the bathroom door behind me and yanked on my clothes.
I emerged less than a minute later, ready to hear whatever Maisie had to say. It was a decent plan – except her plan seemed just the opposite, because the way it looked, she expected me to do most of the talking.
For some reason, I didn't like it.
And judging from Maisie's expression, she wasn't liking much of this either.
If things continued on their current path, one of us would be saying something we couldn't take back.
And I had a sinking feeling it wouldn't be me.