Maisie #3
Grayson tries to shove it over, but Nova throws her arm over it. “No! Mr. Sparkles Sugarplum Pinky Glitter Bum is sleeping. You can’t move him.”
Grayson’s head falls back, looking up at the ceiling before sighing. “Where would you like me to sit?” he asks her softly.
She points over at me, and my eyes blow wide. “There’s room right there next to Waisie,” she says confidently, a little smirk on her face. This little girl is smarter than she lets on, I just can’t prove it.
Grayson’s hand flexes by his side, but, to my surprise, he confidently walks over, pointing at the open sliver of couch next to me. “This seat taken?”
Was I a serial killer in another life? That is the only way to explain why I’ve had an abundance of bad karma in this life. I try to act unbothered by his overwhelming presence, but I can hardly take a full breath. I tip my head to my side, motioning for him to sit.
“Thanks,” he whispers, sliding in next to me. He barely fits, and we are wedged so close, his jeans brush against my leg.
This should be fun.
We let Nova pick the movie, and she picked Moana. Not sure why we let her pick or talk us into this movie night, because not even ten minutes in, she’s softly snoring, her head on my side.
Grayson and I sit in silence, both pretending to be invested in the movie. I peek at him, and his face is a mask of steel. I quickly look away before he catches me, rubbing my sweaty hands down my pants.
Our hands brush, and my heart stops. It feels like sparks between us. This can’t be normal. I swear, I hear him groan, but I’m so charged up right now, I could be hearing things. Or it could be me.
“Maisie?”
“Yeah,” I whisper.
His pinky finger brushes mine, intentional this time. “You don’t have to stay to watch this,” he says softly, looking down at our hands.
“Are you kicking me out?” My voice is so low, I can barely hear it over the singing of the movie. My foot inches closer to his on its own, and I feel him press back.
His reply comes fast. “Never.”
I let my pinky finger drift, one inch at a time, until it connects with the side of his, barely a brush. “What was the real reason you didn’t want to look at me tonight?” I sound defeated, and I sort of feel that way too.
He sighs, using the hand not pressed against mine to gently tip my chin to look at him. His shadowed sea green eyes pin me in place. “Because it hurts less to yearn for you from inside the chambers of my head than to ignite a spark in your eyes before having to extinguish it by my own hand.”
I try to shake my head no, but he holds my chin tight. “I’m no good for you, Maisie. I can’t be what you need. You deserve sunshine, and my life will only bring you storm clouds.”
“You don’t know that.”
He tucks a curl behind my ear, giving me a sad smile. “But I do. I can’t let you fall with me, angel.”
“I don’t understand. Please let me in.” I’ve never felt so raw and open with my feelings towards someone. I feel like my heart is bleeding out like Grayson’s hand. I know I’m leaving soon, but I can’t help the undeniable pull I feel towards him. The heart wants what it wants.
His thumb strokes across my cheek, and I lean into it, eating up any ounce of affection he’ll give me. “I know, sweet girl,” he says softly. “And I’m sorry.”
His hand drops from my chin, the one touching mine twitching. I look down to find him clenching in a fist so hard, his knuckles turn white. I don’t know what shit he’s wrapped up in, but I’ve finally hit my limit on pressing him. I won’t keep begging to a closed door.
Hesitantly, I reach out and place my hand on top, gently prying his clenched fingers open. He lets me, his hand melting into mine.
“There, better,” I whisper, letting our palms lie flat together.
He stares at our hands in wonder, like he’s never done this before.
Let another touch him innocently. I know he said he doesn’t date, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a man with needs.
My heart aches, wondering if this is the first time he’s held a woman's hand with zero strings attached. Even if it’s just this once, I want to know what it feels like.
He brings my knuckles up to kiss them each gently, his lips lingering on the last one like he’s committing it to memory. I sigh, my eyes going heavy, and let out a yawn. It’s been a long day, and I could really go for a nice bath and a book in bed.
Grayson reads me like a book, placing my hand back in my lap. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
I smile sleepily up at him, giving him room to get up. He scoops a knocked out Nova from my lap, walking her to her room. He looks so good in uncle mode, all soft and protective.
He returns a minute later, gently closing her door. His face is back to that steely armor I hate so much. Whatever soft side that cracked through is gone just as fast as it came. I wish I could say I’m surprised.
“Do you want to finish the movie?” he asks, approaching the couch.
“No.” I turn my head away from him. It’s easier this way, I tell myself. For both of us.
“Let me grab my keys. I’ll take you home.”
Home. What a foreign concept.
Research notes: never let a cowboy be the puppeteer of your heartstrings.