Free Grayson by Lisa Eugene

able to go.”
    He stared quietly and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, fighting the urge to step closer. A strange giddiness scrambled my thoughts and made me light headed.
    “I figured since I’m working downstairs, I should introduce myself. I’m Angie, but—but you probably already know that since you’ve been following me. And thanks for what you did for me on Friday night. You saved me. I don’t know what would’ve happened had you not been there. Oh, and about the other day… I’m so sorry I spied on you. I hadn’t intended to. It’s just that… that I saw you and… I… I couldn’t help myself.”
    My eyes widened at the implication. “I mean, I’m not a pervert or anything. I don’t usually go around spying on naked men. Really, I don’t—not that I mind doing it. It’s just always been consensual when I’ve done it.”
    Oh God…what the hell was I saying? Change subject. Now!
    “I’ll try not to bother you while I’m working downstairs. I promise. I’ve been trying to be as quiet as possible, well…” I lowered my lids, “except for the times I yelled through your door and banged on it repeatedly. But I’d just wanted to say thanks.”
    I pushed the words out as one sloppy verbal run-on… Ugh! I was rambling. I sighed apologetically.
    “I’m sorry. I’m going on and on. You must think I’m crazy.”
    I gasped. Had I just said that? “Not that there’s anything wrong with being crazy! I have lots of friends who are crazy! In fact, I think the whole world is crazy!”
    I looked away, biting my tongue. Anything to get the damn thing to quit wagging.
    Dear God, please create a hole big enough to swallow me up right now.
    I was mortified. Here was my chance to finally talk to this man, and I was making a total ass of myself. I’d probably just insulted him in a million different of ways.
    I chanced a look at him through my lashes. He’d remained remarkably quiet throughout my bout of verbal diarrhea. His expression was still cautious, but something like a smile played on his lips and the fine lines at the corner of his eyes crinkled.
    He pushed off of the wall and folded his arms across his  broad chest. He was tall. Maybe just over six feet. I had to adjust the trajectory of my gaze.
    “You already said thank you in your note.”
    I noticed he didn’t mention the drawings.
    “I thought a thank you note was a bit impersonal. I wanted to do it in person.”
    A skeptical brow shot up.
    “Okay…maybe not so impersonal,” I muttered, my face growing hot.
    “You’re welcome.” He turned to leave.
    “Wait!” I said quickly. He angled back to me with the same brow raised. I shifted my gaze around the hall, not ready to end our conversation.
    “Since I’m cleaning up downstairs. Maybe I can clean out some stuff up here, too.”
    “I like it the way it is.” His voice was suddenly harder.
    Oh. Okay. I frowned.
    “Then maybe just a little dusting.”
    “No.”
    “How about I just straighten up the books on the floor? Are the books downstairs yours, too? You must love to read.”
    He turned to me fully and sighed heavily, his tolerance obviously waning.
    “Don’t you have some cleaning to do downstairs ?”
    I pursed my lips, a little piqued at his quick dismissal. What a charmer.
    “I would vacuum, but the vacuum cleaner broke.”
    “I disabled it.”
    “ What? ” Had I heard him correctly?
    “I disabled it.”
    “Why?” I frowned, perplexed.
    “The noise. It bothers me,” he said simply. “Drives me crazy.”
    He raised his finger and twirled it in circles next to his head.
    I couldn’t tell if he was simply mocking me or if he was serious. Finally his lips tilted up in a small smile. He shook his head and regarded me like I was a giant inkblot. That stingy smile made warm honey pour through my veins and a sweet longing settled low in my belly.
    “I think you should go. I have work to do,” he said.“Work?” What could he possibly be working on up