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“I don’t like how they talked about you,” Gray grumbles.
Though my face flames, I shrug. “It’s not like I don’t hear similar comments. A lot.”
“Doesn’t make it right.”
“No.” I sigh. “But who are we kidding? I’m six feet tall. Growing up with my dad, or when I was around his clients, I never felt particularly tall. But there are days when I feel like a total oaf around other women.”
Around guys too, but I’ve said enough. I’m too tender from tonight’s humiliation.
Gray’s brows lift in outrage. “You’re perfect. And hell, Mac, have you seen me? I’m a fucking tree.”
Perfect? Me?
Oblivious to my pleased shock, he snorts with self-deprecation. “I remember hitting my full height. Kept banging into everything. I really did feel like Gulliver around the Lilliputians. Sometimes I still do.”
“Yeah, but you lumber so gracefully.”
The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Never let them see you sweat, right? And I’m serious, Mac. You’re perfect just the way you are. I love not having to throw my back out just trying to meet you at eye level. So no more crazy talk about letting me go home with a couple of jock riders who I didn’t even want touching me, anyway. Okay?”
“Okay, okay. Sheesh.”
We both kind of glare and nod in agreement, slightly smiling at each other but still a bit awkward. And then we’re silent again.
“You should know,” I say slowly, because I can never seem to let anything go. “I’m fairly crap at expressing gratitude. I’m always saying the wrong thing.”
At this, Gray sets down his spoon and leans back in his chair before running a hand through his hair. The action has his biceps bunching. There’s a slight smile playing about his lips. “I kind of like that about you, Mac.”
I like everything about Gray.
“All I meant was that I’m happy you’re here.”
He grins wide. “Me too.” But he pauses, his brows knitting. “And I don’t hook up with someone every night. To clarify.”
“Just every other night, then?” I tease.
He glances away. “Yeah, maybe.” But then his deep blue eyes connect again. “And friends always come first.”
“Bros before hos?” I say, remembering Marshall’s line earlier.
Gray chuckles. “Something like that. Only my mom taught me never to call women whores.” His gaze lingers on my breasts just long enough that I feel it, then he catches my eyes. “And you’re definitely no bro.”
“Glad you noticed.”
“Hard not to notice, Mac.” He says it in a dry tone, but all I can see is that assessing, interested glance he gave me earlier, and it’s messing with my head, making my body too warm.
Frowning, I take a bite of soup to cover my disquiet.
Oblivious, Gray soldiers on. “I’ve never had a girlfriend before. So I’ll probably act like a douche now and then.” Color paints his cheeks pink. “I mean, a friend who’s a girl.”
“And a girlfriend?” I can’t help but ask. “You ever have one of those?”
“Nah. I’ve never had the inclination.”
“Never?” The word rings hollow in my chest. “That’s a tragedy. You’d make someone a great boyfriend.”
His cheeks darken, but he shakes his head as if I’m missing the point. “Pretty sure monogamy is a key factor in a relationship.”
My spoon clatters to the table. “You’d cheat?”
