Lib Novel Page 10
CHAPTER 7
Henry
The sound of clanging and crashing stirred me from my sleep. For a moment, I panicked until I realized exactly what was the cause of the crashing. Or rather who.
I rubbed my eyes, and scraped my fingernails over my scruff, slowly ambling through my hallway to the kitchen. Sure enough, I found Grayson opening and closing cabinets, my kitchen in a little bit of disarray, but not as disheveled as the man in front of me.
His shirtsleeves were rolled up, and his hair was a bit messy, no doubt from sleeping on the square pillows.
“What are you doing?” I inquired, my voice still slightly groggy from my abrupt awakening.
Grayson stopped his tirade, turning to me slowly, eyes appraising me as if I was the one who was daft.
“I can not find any espresso in this god forsaken place,” he said with poise, shaking his head as if it were quite obvious. “This house needs, espresso. I need—”
I casually opened the cabinet nearest to me, the slender one that didn’t fit much in it other than drink mixes and of course, coffee. I grabbed the brown paper bag of freshly ground morning roast that I’d purchased a few days ago.
I could feel Grayson’s eyes on me like a hawk. I casually set the bag down in front of him on the counter, meeting his gaze.
“What is this?” he asked, though he didn’t look at the coffee. Instead, his gaze was fixed on me, on my lips. I couldn’t help but smirk up at the towering man.
“Espresso.” I deadpanned.
“This—” Grayson said as he took the bag from my hands, opening it to sniff it and frowning. “This is store bought coffee.”
“Caffeine is caffeine, either you want it or—” I remarked as I snatched the bag back, heading over to the coffee machine.
“I suppose in a pinch, it will do.” Grayson mewled, almost as if I’d caused him a great deal of trauma by offering him a fresh, hot cup of coffee.
It didn’t take long for me to throw a pot together, and I continued on my morning routine, opening the fridge and gathering my supplies for breakfast. Eggs, bacon, bread…
“Do not feel as if you have to do this on my behalf,” Grayson said as I set the ingredients down, setting up my skillet and turning the burner on. I tossed some bacon in, letting it sizzle.
“Aren’t you hungover? Hungry?” I asked as I cracked the eggs into a second pan.
Grayson casually leaned against my island, crossing his arms. I could feel his gaze on me like a laser beam; hot, holding me in place.
“Please, I am not some amateur, Henry. I am a professional. I do not get hungover. Not anymore.”
“I don’t think that is the selling point you seem to think it is,” I said, realizing I sounded kind of like an asshole. I usually wasn’t so loose lipped around people, but Grayson didn’t feel like most people. It was far too easy to just say what was on my mind around him, and that was dangerous.
The last thing I wanted to do was piss him off, even if it was only because I didn’t want him running to his sister and complaining, and for the wedding itself to be awkward because I had slipped up and said something stupid.
“Yes, well, my selling points have not been a problem for most people,” he bit out, like a bratty child.
I don’t know why, but his attitude made my cock twitch, and a grin erupt on my face.
Maybe I need the coffee more than he does.
I turned the bacon once more as the coffee pot beeped. Naturally, I took my time, grabbing some mugs and setting them down, pouring the coffee while breakfast cooked.
“Cream?” I asked as I opened the fridge once more to grab my store french vanilla store brand creamer.
“Fuck…” I heard him curse, and I turned to look at him as he ran his hand over his face, shaking his head.
Maybe he still felt off from last night…
“You okay?” I asked as I set the bottle down.