Page 54 of On the Breakaway

“Thank you for last night." I shift awkwardly. “And sorry for the random blabbering. If you could maybe not hold it over my head, I’d appreciate it.”

“Why would I hold it over your head?” He asks, sounding genuinely confused.

“I’m just saying I know I owe you now and…”

He cuts me off, “You don’t owe me anything.”

My head jerks up, meeting his eyes.

“You don’t owe me because I was a decent human being.” He steps out of the elevator. “As far as the other stuff, consider it forgotten.”

Outside, cool air eases some of the heat from my face.

“Thanks.”

“Well, most of it.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I may have a hard time forgetting that you called me pretty.”

I shove his shoulder right as my Uber pulls up. “When I said pretty, I meant pretty annoying.”

He stares at me for a beat like he’s absorbing how terrible that comeback was. Then we both laugh.

Laughing with Grayson Shaw has got to be a sign of the apocalypse.

“Seriously, though,” he says, holding the car door open for me, “don’t worry about it.” Then just before the door shuts, he adds, “I really did mean it when I said I’m not acting.”

As the Uber pulls away from the curb, I stare out the window, turning his words over in my head, not that they change anything.

But…

I spent the entire morning alone with a man for the first time in almost a year, and I was fine. More than fine. And my body reacted to him in a way it hasn’t reacted to anyone since the breakup.

Those glasses combined with a tattoo. I mean, come the fuck on.

I close my eyes briefly, immediately flashing back to him standing shirtless in the kitchen with messy hair and that rough morning voice while looking at me like I was a complete disaster. Which, to be fair, I am.

I should cut off this train of thought, but my willpower is next to zero this morning.

Maybe this is exactly what I need.

I mean, surely Grayson Shaw is safe enough to break a very long, very frustrating dry spell. The attraction is there, on both ends, if the way his eyes linger on me is any indication. And even better, he’s not someone I could accidentally fall for. We don’t get along in the slightest. He thinks I’m chaotic and reckless. I think he’s uptight and bossy.

There’s no risk of accidentally letting him too far into my life again.

Just sex.

Heat creeps slowly up my neck as the realization settles in.

Oh my God.

I’m considering Grayson Shaw as a hookup.

I stare harder out the window, horrified by myself.

Objectively, it’s a terrible idea.

But terrible ideas are usually the ones I cling to, which is probably why I can’t stop thinking about it the entire ride home.

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