Tangled

50 Ava: The Grey Girl

“Good morning,” Clayton says with a smile, and I step back to let him into the apartment. He pauses for just a moment when he sees Selene, and I wait for the questions–but he doesn’t ask any.

He’s polite like that.

Honestly, outside of my paranoia and not wanting to rely on him, he seems like a pretty great guy.

Clayton strides into the kitchen like he owns it–which, I mean, he does–while I stand around feeling awkward and out of place in this fancy apartment. He seems so at home here, like he belongs.

“Everything okay with the phone?” he calls out from the kitchen. “You didn’t text me this morning.”

“Oh, uh, no issues,” I reply, glancing down at the sleek new device on the end table. “I just woke up a little while ago and haven’t set it up yet.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

There’s a brief pause, and then the sound of a pot clattering onto the stove. “Have you eaten?”

I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “No,

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50 Ava: The Grey Girl

not yet.”

“Well, go relax then. I’ll whip up some breakfast.”

Before I can protest, he emerges from the kitchen, those intense green eyes fixing me with a look that brooks no argument. Grasping my shoulders, he turns me towards the plush couch and gives me a gentle nudge in that direction.

“Go on, I’ve got this.”

I open my mouth to argue, but one glance at his resolute expression has me snapping it shut again. Instead, I just nod and make my way over to the couch, sinking into the soft cushions with a sigh.

Selene, ever my loyal companion, leans against me as she focuses on her show, resting her head on my lap. I absently run my fingers through her soft fur, trying to ignore the sounds of Clayton puttering around in the kitchen.

1

having someone else cook for me. Take care of me. I’m so used to being the one doing all the work, all the cooking and cleaning. Having someone else step into

But at the

Ava: The

instead of being the one doing all the taking care. It’s

an alpha who thinks

here, too used to having Clayton around. This isn’t permanent, no matter

of bacon on a hot pan has my ears perking up–Selene’s, too–and the smell reaches my nose a few seconds later.

care of me

to get a little comfortable, right? Since

***

with Clayton is comfortable.

No more kisses on the forehead. He’s just there, polite and

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38

Ava: The

I’m taken care

course, she doesn’t have anything against Clayton in the first place. She doesn’t like the idea of being trapped here, but she has

remarks she throws in about Lucas every time he comes

wanting to think about him, I focus on my cup of creamer with a splash of coffee, adding another

of o

can see Clayton giving my drink a little side–eye, but

a lot of flavor

couch to enjoy myself just as his phone rings. I try to settle into my role as a couch potato, but my ears can’t help

at it, letting the sugary taste linger on my

through my

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Ava: The Grey Girl

the mindless chatter of the television

with Blackwood is

send a shiver down my spine, and I clutch my mug a little tighter, the warmth seeping into my

demands,

implications of his words start

sink in.

and Westwood? Is a war coming after all?

seems to be at the center

from my fingers, and I barely manage to catch it before the scalding liquid spills all over my lap. My breath catches in my throat as I process those last

Grey girl.