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

weird, 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 that role makes me

But at the

Ava: The Grey Girl

the one doing all the taking care. It’s just breakfast,

thinks he’s my

shake my head, trying to dislodge those thoughts. I can’t afford to get too comfortable here, too used to having Clayton around. This isn’t permanent, no matter

the smell reaches my

I can let him take care of me for just a little

a little

***

Clayton

try to touch me. No more kisses on the forehead. He’s

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38

The

taken

her show instead of watching his every move. Of course, she doesn’t have anything against

remarks she throws in about Lucas every time he comes up..

focus on my cup of creamer

of o

see Clayton giving my drink a little

without a lot of flavor to mask its real

rings. I try to settle into my

it, letting the sugary taste linger

through my ears. His deep,

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The

tune out, even with the mindless chatter of the

with Blackwood is

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

demands, but they’re

heart sinks as the implications

sink in.

Is a war coming after all?

to be at the

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

Grey girl. Me?