Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Presley
My phone had been going off so often last night I ended up just silencing it. I woke up to hateful messages, they got angrier and angrier, then to the point of desperation was exactly what I expected.
I’d been down this road before with Grant. Far too many times. He’d eventually give up, he’d have no choice. Because I wasn’t bailing him out of this. His own father even came to the realization that his son would never learn.
“Momma.” I look up to Grayson walking into my bedroom, rubbing his eyes with one hand and dragging his blanket with the other. “The knocking woke me up,” he adds and it takes me a minute to register his words.
“Knocking?”
“Someone’s at the door.” He yawns before climbing up onto the end of my bed and curling onto his side. In no time at all he is asleep once again. My room is the furthest from the front of the apartment. His being right off the living room does make it harder for him to sleep through the noise of the apartment. One of the many things I hate about our setup is the layout.
Covering him up, I partially close the door and make my way to the living room, just as another knock sounds on the door. My heart feels like it takes a nervous leap in my chest and I pause.
Had Grant followed me home?
The last thing I needed was for him to know where we lived. Quietly I inch forward, looking through the peephole and then, relief washes over me.
On the opposite side, Zac stands holding what appears to be coffee and treats from Maggie’s Bakery right down the road. My stomach instantly growls with anticipation of what he may have hidden inside the bag.
Flipping the lock, I unhook the chain and pull open the door. Met with a smile that gives butterflies, I try not to react. But the truth is, Zac has an incredible smile.
“Decaf and cinnamon apple Danish,” he says, holding up one bag. “A hot cocoa and glazed donut for the boy.”
The fact that he remembers what Grayson’s favorite is warms my heart. Me, well, mine changes daily almost due to the cravings. But he seems to have hit it right on the head today. Cinnamon apple sounds amazing.
“Brought three different kinds of creamer, because I wasn’t sure what today would bring.” He smiles again and I too grin. The flavored coffee is another, who knows how I’ll wake up kind of thing.
I let him in, and he walks over to the counter and sets everything down. Turning around to face me, his eyes scan over me, down and then back up. “You work today?”
“I have the lunch shift.” And the night shift, but I leave that part out. “Aurora and Jace are keeping Grayson for the night.”
“Oh.” He nods stiffly. “You do know that uh, I could keep him too.”
I worry my lip.
“I mean I have a fort set up for him and everything.”
“I know.” And I did. It just feels weird asking him. “I didn’t want to encroach on plans you may have.”
“What plans?” He laughs.
“Hot date,” I say, waggling my brows. I was joking, kind of.
“When you coming over?”
I ignore his question, knowing that I’ll get a lecture when I tell him I work a double. He’s constantly hounding me to work less. “Do you want to go wake him up and tell him you brought treats?” I turn around and start digging through the bags. “He’s on my bed, but he really needs to get up. This will make him less cranky.”
I can sense Zac still standing behind me, but I don’t acknowledge it. I wasn’t in the mood for bickering. Honestly I have enough on my plate with Grant right now.
A few minutes later I hear Grayson giggling and look up as he and Zac enter the kitchen. Zac is holding him with one arm and using his other to tickle him. It’s a perfect scene, one I want to etch in my memory. Something I rarely see, but love how much he loves my son. It’s obvious Gray loves Zac too. He refers to him as his best buddy. I’m in awe of the connection they share.
“Grayson says that he’d rather stay at my place,” Zac says as he sits Gray down in his chair. “We were thinking he and I could have a movie day and then tonight the three of us could make dinner and crash in the fort.”
Here comes the fight I didn’t want to have. “I work a double,” I say as I place Grayson’s things on the table in front of him and try not to look up. But the longer I am met with silence the more curious I become and when I glance in his direction, it’s exactly what I expected. Nostrils flaring, his brows furrowed, and his lips pressed into a tight line. He’s annoyed.
“Do you think that’s necessary?”
“If Gray and I want to have a roof over our head and food in our bellies then yes, I do.”
“I told you I would help you with that.” He braces himself on the table, gripping the edges.
“And I told you that I don’t need your help. This baby,” I point to my stomach, “fine. But this,” I wave my hand around the rest of the area, “it’s on me.”
“Why are you so damn stubborn?”
“Why are you so damn annoying?” I ask in return.
“Accepting help is not admitting defeat,” he practically growls out the words to keep from raising his voice.
“And accepting the word no should not damage your ego.”
I walk away from him needing a minute to breathe but he follows me which doesn’t help. I walk into my room and when he steps in behind me and closes the door, I sigh.
“I don’t need a hero, Zac. I never asked you to swoop in and protect me or take care of me.” I spin around to face him.
“But what if I want to take care of the two of you?"
“Well, I don’t need you to. I’m fine, Zac.” I refuse to ever give my trust fully to another person again. I know how that game ends, and I’m the loser. Only this time I have Grayson to think of too, and a baby. "I’ve been taking care of myself for as long as I can remember, I may not be great at it, but I get by.”
This morning took a shift fast. Ever since Grant showed up at the cafe my mood has been spiraling.
“I don’t want you to ‘get by’.” He actually makes air quotes around the words. “I want you to soar.”
I can’t help it, without even a thought I roll my eyes.
“Marry me.”
I laugh at him, thinking he’s got to have gone crazy. He laughs. “You’re insane.”
“No, I’m serious.” He steps forward and uses his fingers to tip up my chin, ensuring I am looking at him and nothing else. “Marry me.”
I feel like I am trapped in some weird fucked up dream. How did we get to this moment? “I’m never doing that again,” I tell him. “It was the worst mistake of my life and one I never plan to repeat.”
“Repeating the same mistake would entail marrying a fucking prick, and I’m not one.” I arch a brow hoping to add a little humor to our current tense situation and it backfires. “I’m not the asshole you wasted your first time on, so marrying me won’t be a mistake.”