The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(44)

As soon as I get to my room, I slip off my heels and FaceTime Elliot.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“Hi.” I smile.

“Good day?” he asks, sitting up in the bed. He’s bare chested, and his tight abs peek out from the top of the duvet. His hair is pushed back and off his face, and his eyes seem tired.

“I had a much better day.” I frown, taking him in. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was watching a film.”

“I feel bad keeping you up. You’re going to get exhausted chatting to me every night.”

“Who said I was going to chat to you every night?”

Shit. I spin the camera around and show him the flowers, diverting the conversation before he gets a look at my panicked face. “Look, you’re everywhere.”

He chuckles. “Fuck. I didn’t realise there would be so many. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, and once I started, I couldn’t stop.”

“It was so thoughtful. I love them.”

I walk into my bathroom and start to wash my face.

“Tell me about your day,” he tells me.

“Well,” I pump my cleanser. “One of the girls in my office invited me out to drinks on Friday.”

“Yeah?” he says, genuinely happy.

“Uh-huh. I was convinced they didn’t like me yesterday. I think people are just super busy here. Like even in the street, everyone moves at this pace. You can spot me a mile away.”

“I can imagine,” he says, rubbing at his jaw as if his smile hurts him being there.

I don’t tell him about Chelsea, Tanner, or Lessy. Those fuckers aren’t getting any more headspace.

“I still haven’t properly met Monica yet. She’s literally never around.”

“Your manager?”

“Yep.” I spritz my toner and swipe it around my face. “She’s the one I’m most nervous about meeting.”

“Why?”

“She’s like… one of the savviest fashion designers in the world,” I state as if it’s obvious. I know I’ve mentioned her before.

“What’s that you’re using now? You didn’t use that last time.”

I hold up the pot. “It’s exfoliator.”

He seems genuinely interested, and it makes me smile. “What made you send me gifts anyway? You once told me you weren’t a flowers kind of man.”

“I’ve never said that.”

He has.

“It was your first day, and we couldn’t celebrate like we would if you were at home.” He watches me in horror as I put on my sheet mask.

“The fuck is that now?”

I laugh and walk out to the bedroom, dropping back on the little sofa. “It’s a mask.” I pick up a white rose and pick at the petals one by one. “I love the flowers; I wish you could smell them. They’re intoxicating.”

“Women are weird.”

“Well, that’s rude. And pretty condescending for a man who seems to spend so much time with the female species.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like weird.”

“Oh, you do, do you? A kink of yours?” I laugh, puffing away the mask as it falls across my lips and into my mouth. So sexy. “You must love me then.”

“You are top-shelf weird.”

“And you’re an asshole.”

“Top-shelf asshole, though.”

“True.” I smile, and he grins back.

We both go quiet for a minute, not needing to fill the silence that settles over us.

Elliot does anyway. “Can you go take that thing off your face? I can’t take you seriously.”

“Fine.” I tut as I stand and walk to the bathroom again. I peel the mask off five minutes too soon and pump out some moisturiser. I drop back down on the sofa and grab my laptop. I want to ask him about the messages he sent yesterday, but I feel like it’s random to bring it up now. It’s all I’ve been able to think about in my small breaks at work.

We’ve slipped into this odd dynamic of skirting around the topic. I know he’s thinking about it, though. He wouldn’t have messaged me yesterday if he wasn’t.

“Talk to me,” he prompts.

I dip my head and purse my lips. “What makes you think I have something to say?”

“I just know. You go into your own little world when you get in your head.” He tightens his gaze on me, and I know he knows what I’m thinking. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Shit.

I go with the truth because it’s the only way to move forward. I need to know what it all means. “I was thinking about your note.”

He tips his chin, tightening his eyes on me. “What about it?”

“You said not a thing—”

“So did you.”

I nod and swallow, feeling my body heat. “What does it mean?”

His hand rubs across his mouth and toys with his bottom lip. “I don’t know, Luce.” He huffs. “Do you?”

I shake my head no. “Ever since that night….” I wish I didn’t remove all my makeup before bringing this up with him. My face feels like it’s on fire. “I feel like something’s changed. You say such… I don’t know, your words… the things you say.” I roll my eyes at my lack of vocabulary. “You’re so bad sometimes,” I rush out.