Rm W/a Vu (13 page)

N
o
, I tell myself. If I was able to jump to the wrong conclusions regarding Greyston and Callie, then there is a very real possibility that I’m doing the same thing now.

Or…am I? He’s polite, a good cook, his house is immaculate and well-decorated, and he dresses great. I suppose it wouldn’t be too unbelievable.

Callie says goodbye, and I think I answer her, but I’ve got so many things rushing through my poor, overworked brain that I really can’t be sure.

Did she say something about Greyston booking a trip?

“Juliette?”

Taking a breath, I raise my gaze from the countertop, my blurred vision clearing the minute I lock eyes with Greyston. “Hmm?”

“You all right?” Turning the burner on the stovetop off, he crosses the kitchen and leans on the counter, facing me. “You seem, I don’t quite know…off?”

I smile, deciding that I don’t think I know him quite well enough yet to blatantly question his sexuality. Plus, I’m probably wrong. “I’m fine.”

Greyston smiles widely, pushing himself up off the counter and clapping his hands together. “You hungry?” His eyes fall to my still-wrapped protein bar, and he snickers.

“Starved, actually,” I confess.

Greyston heads to the cupboard, grabs two plates, and dishes up whatever he was working on. When he sets them down on the island counter where I’m sitting, I notice he’s made spaghetti.

He takes the seat next to me and hands me a fork while I look down at my dinner, inhaling deeply. “This looks amazing,” I say, picking up my fork and twirling some of the pasta around the tines. After taking my first bite, I look at Greyston. “So, you’re going on a trip soon?” 

He nods. “There’s this baseball player in Houston that the agency has had its eye on for a few months. He’s young and could do well under the right representation.”

I say nothing. Do nothing.

He reaches out, grazing the skin on the outside of my knee before quickly drawing back as though the contact was out of line in some way. The fire of his touch still lingers, and I find myself wanting him to do it again. “I know you’re still getting settled, and I honestly didn’t think I’d be leaving this soon. I was hoping this trip would wait another couple weeks, but if we don’t get him now, someone else will.”

“I understand.” I don’t, really—he may as well be speaking another language—but it’s his job, and I know he has to do it to pay the bills. “Maybe I can invite Daphne over?”

“I told you that you don’t have to ask, Juliette,” Greyston reminds me with a grin. “This is your home now, too. Invite whomever you want.”

Nodding, I turn back to my dinner. “When do you leave?”

“Tuesday,” he replies, returning to his own plate. “Come on, let’s eat before our dinner gets c—”

Greyston doesn’t get a chance to finish when we hear the front door open, and a deep male voice calls out, “Honey, I’m here!”

I wonder if I should be reading into that statement. Do I say something? Leave it alone? Something tells me to leave it alone—that it’ll work itself out, or I’ll at least be given the right opening to inquire further. I know if I assume anything out loud, I run the risk of making a fool out of myself. No, it’s definitely best to stay quiet.

I think.

Our company’s footsteps grow louder as he approaches the kitchen. Was this the guy Callie mentioned earlier? Toby?

“There you are!” he booms, entering the kitchen. “I thought I smelled your spag—”

I turn just in time to see him stop dead in his tracks, cutting himself off as well. He’s huge—like a bear. While his size should probably intimidate me, his baby blue eyes are warm and friendly, and when he smiles, he’s got the deepest dimples that give him an almost childlike innocence.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were entertaining.” He looks at Greyston, then at me, and smiles. “I’m Toby. Greyston’s partner.”

Partner. Interesting word choice, but it could mean more than one thing.

“Hi.” I stand up and meet him halfway to offer him my hand. “I’m Juliette.”

“Juliette’s my new tenant,” Greyston clarifies. “The one I told you about.”

Realization flashes in Toby’s baby blues. “Of course. It’s nice to meet you.” He takes my hand in his, shaking it before standing next to Greyston. “What do you think of my boy’s pad?”

My eyebrow arches questioningly.
His
boy? I try to think of another meaning behind his declaration and decide they could be best friends.

Toby reaches around and rests a hand on Greyston’s shoulder, sort of half-embracing him.

Or not?

“The house is great,” I reply, deciding to stop worrying about something that really isn’t my business or within my ability to control.

“You’re early,” Greyston says to Toby. “You hungry?”

“Does an ostrich fly?” He’s got his hand resting on his flat stomach, giving the impression that maybe he is. Of course, this makes his statement confusing.

Both Greyston and I look at Toby, but it’s me that says something. “Um, no, actually they don’t.”

Toby looks genuinely surprised. “Really? Are you sure?”

I don’t mean to laugh at him, but the poor guy really has no idea. “Yup. Pretty sure.”

He walks over to the cupboard that holds the dishes and grabs a plate. “Guess I need to think of another rhetorical question, huh?”

Scooping a generous amount of pasta on his plate, Toby asks if Greyston has booked the hotel yet. I decide to eat my own meal, not wanting to intrude.

“Not yet.” Toby shoots a disapproving look over his shoulder, and Greyston laughs. “I know, I know. I liked the idea of sharing that single bed as much as you did.”

That doesn’t mean anything,
I try to tell myself. He didn’t say they
did
share it.

“So, do you guys travel together a lot?” I ask, fishing for more information without bluntly asking and appearing rude. Truthfully, I’ve never been particularly good at fishing for anything, but I am going to give it a shot. I refuse to let this go on as long as the Callie thing did.

Toby leans against the counter in front of the sink and begins to eat, nodding. “Yeah. Whenever we can. It just depends on just how badly we need each other.”

I nod as though I understand, but the truth of the matter is, I’m still uncertain; he could mean a lot of things. “I see. Have you guys been…
together
long?”

“About four years,” Greyston replies without skipping a beat. “It was actually Callie that introduced us. We quickly became friends and then just couldn’t deny how great we would be together.”

 “Mmmhmm,” I’m still a little skeptical; sure, it’s dwindling—just not in the way I’ve been hoping.

Toby finishes his dinner first, even though he started after us and had more than double our amount, and puts his plate in the dishwasher. “Well, I’ll leave the two of you to finish up. Greyston, I’ll meet you upstairs?”

Upstairs…where the bedrooms are.
There’s a study too,
I quickly remind myself.
And the mystery room.

“Okay,” Greyston says, finishing his dinner and heading to the sink. “I’ll be right up after I clean the kitchen.”

I take the last bite of my pasta and join him. “Don’t be silly. Go. I’ll clean up,” I offer with a smile.

“Yeah?” He’s got a silly grin on his face, and it’s pretty infectious.

“Yes. Go. Do whatever it is that you boys do.” I’m honestly trying not to think too much about it because I still don’t really have a definitive answer. “I’ll be hitting the books right away anyway.”

Greyston gives my upper arm a light squeeze. “Thanks. We’ll try to keep it down.”

Oh, so they’re noisy.

After finishing the dishes, I wipe the counters off and head upstairs with a fresh-brewed cup of coffee. As I reach the top of the stairs, I hear their voices. From behind the closed door to my right. Yes, the mystery room.

Curious—as always—I step closer, being sure to balance on the tips of my toes and move softly over the glossy hardwood floor.

“What the hell are you doing?”
I hear Greyston demand.

Toby laughs.
“What? I thought you’d like that… No?”

“Hell no!”

I search the door for a keyhole or something to peep through. I am deeply aware of just how wrong this is, but I can’t seem to help myself.

“Well, what about when I do this?”

My eyes widen as I imagine what “this” could possibly be. I can’t even fathom it. Flashes of them caught in some kind of torrid embrace flood my mind, and tendrils of warmth spread across my skin, caressing me until my fingers and my toes tingle.

Definitely not the effect I expected from such a thought, but a welcome one, nonetheless.

“Um, it’s a little better. Still doesn’t amaze me.”

Wow, Greyston’s tough to please.

“You know,”
Toby says, sounding exasperated, “
you were a lot more fun last week when we did this.”

Greyston laughs loudly.
“Yeah, well, last week we didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone else with our shenanigans.”

I instantly step away from the door, finally coming to my senses enough to know I really shouldn’t be so invasive. However, in my haste to retreat, I bump into the little table against the wall, sending a candle toppling over and onto the floor with a very loud—and echoey—
thud!

Silence fills the hall. Greyston and Toby have stopped doing whatever it is they’re doing; I’ve stopped breathing and am just waiting to be found out. Before that can happen, I snatch the candle up off the floor and put it back on the table. I can’t be sure it’s even in the right spot as I dash from the scene—as quickly as I can with a cup of coffee—and the door opens behind me.

“Juliette?” Greyston calls out into the hall, but I’ve already disappeared from sight.

Taking a deep breath, I put a smile on my face and hang my head out into the hall. “Yeah?”

“Did you…?”

I reach out and run my fingers through my hair, stepping out into the hall. “Oh,” I say. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going—the hazards of reading a text while walking—and bumped into the table.” I can’t lie, so I figure a slight bend and an omission is probably best. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”

Greyston chuckles, stepping out into the hall. I notice he’s shed the button-up shirt he was wearing and is now in a thinner cotton tee. His hair might be a little more mussed than before, but I don’t get the chance to properly survey the area before he runs his long fingers through it. “Trust me,” he says in a teasing tone. “You can’t be any more disturbing than Toby. Do you have any idea what he was doing?”

I open my mouth to put a few guesses out there, but then think better of it. “I can only imagine,” I reply sweetly. “Well, I should hit the books.” I point toward my room with my thumb.

“Oh, okay. You’ll let me know if you need anything?” I nod. “Remember to make yourself at home. Help yourself to whatever it is you want.”

“Thank you. I will.”

Greyston and I go our separate ways, but before I close my door, I hear him exclaim, “Did you keep going without me?”

I stifle a laugh as I close my door. With what I suspect is going on down the hall, it’s hard for me to focus on my studies, and I think I’ve re-read the same paragraph at least ten times. My eyes burn, and my eyelids grow heavy. I close them for a minute, just to rest them and gather a reserve of energy, but when I open them again my cheek is pressed to the pages of my text and it’s pitch black outside. One quick glance at my alarm clock tells me it’s four in the morning.

“Awesome,” I grumble, pushing myself off my bed. I reach for my mug of coffee—which is still full and now cold—and head downstairs. I’m sure to tip-toe past Greyston’s closed bedroom door.

As I step into the kitchen, I’m surprised to see the refrigerator light on and Greyston’s lower half. “Oh!” I exclaim, making him stand up.

Only, it’s not Greyston. And he’s not wearing a shirt.

I immediately look away. “Sorry, I didn’t think anyone was up,” I tell Toby. “I fell asleep studying and came down to dump my cold coffee and grab a glass of water.”

Toby laughs quietly, bringing a glass of orange juice to his lips. “No worries, Juliette. Can I get you anything?”

He’s sweet, just like Greyston. Exactly the type of person he should be with.

“Thanks. Um, where are the glasses?”

“Cupboard to the left of the sink,” Toby says, stepping off to the side.

I grab a glass and fill it with tap water. With my back turned, I sip my water and stare out the window at the night sky that overlooks the desert. I want to talk to Toby, not necessarily about his relationship, but just to get to know him. I mean, he’s got to be a pretty big part of Greyston’s life; it probably isn’t a bad idea to become friends.

“So, how do you feel about Greyston leaving on this trip?” Toby asks before I get a chance to speak.

I turn around and see him sitting at the counter, both of his large hands wrapped around the slender glass before him. “Fine.”

Toby smiles, his dimples deepening, and stares down into his glass. “He’s worried you won’t feel safe,” he confesses. “I’m just making sure you’re okay with staying here. If not, I’d be happy to make other arrangements.”

Smiling genuinely at his concern, I walk around the island and sit next to him. “It’s a big house,” I say. “But I have a couple of friends I can invite over.”

“Guys?” Why does it sound like he’s fishing for my relationship status?

I shake my head. “No. Boys are so
not
on my radar at the moment.”

Toby quirks an eyebrow. “Oh? None at all?”

I laugh. “No.” My cheeks warm at my half-truth, and I drop my eyes from his. “Well, there was one, but he’s not exactly available,” I explain quietly.

“His loss,” Toby says, bumping my shoulder lightly with his fist.

I look back up at him, shrugging one shoulder. “Nah. He’s with someone pretty great from what I can tell,” I tell him honestly, not wanting to divulge that my crush is on Greyston.