A groan escaped her lips as she woke. Her eyelids felt heavy as she tried to open them. She hadn't slept this much when she was at Imperial Garden. As she rolled in bed, everything came rushing in. Emeralde frowned as she remembered calling Larissa, so why did she see Greyson in her apartment?
She got out of bed and headed to the kitchen for water, but paused when she saw a muscular man in an apron.
"Greyson?" she called out.
Greyson turned to her. His eyes widened when he saw her; however, he frowned when he looked at her bare feet.
"Where are your slippers, Emy?"
Emeralde raised a brow at him and looked at her feet.
"I wanted a glass of water."
Greyson walked towards her and sat her down in the chair.
"I'd get you one."
Emeralde wrapped her hands around the glass of water, unable to stop her eyes from roaming over Greyson's body.
"Emy?"
Cough, Cough.
Greyson took the water from her, his hands rubbing her back to calm her down.
Emeralde cleared her throat and pulled herself away from him.
Gosh.
What the fuck is wrong with her?
She lowered her head.
"I'm fine." Her eyes scanned the kitchen.
"Where is Rissa?"
"She's gone home."
Emerlade scratched her fingers. She called Larissa, but her brother was here rather.
Greyson's jaw tightened, and he cleared his throat to clear the awkwardness.
"When did you start cooking?"
His face lightened up. Finally, she was asking. He'd waited for her to ask him this question.
"When you started staying with us."
"Since I was staying in your house?"
Greyson nodded with the wooden spatula in hand.
"Why am I finding out today?"
"Um, I guess because you've never seen me cook."
"Might be."
Greyson dished the food on the plates and served.
"Dig in, babe."
Emerealde side-eyed him before taking the spoon.
-
The spoon clanged on the plate as she pushed it away from her.
"How was it?" Greyson asked.
"It was good."
He nibbled on his lower lip.
"Just that?"
Emeralde nodded.
"Yeah, it was good. Did you want me to say something else?"
"Maybe something other than good," he grumbled.
Emy chuckled.
"Are you sulking?"
Greyson looked away from her.
"No, I'm not"
"Fine. It was amazing. Happy?"
His eyes lit up as he looked at her.
"Really? You can't take that back."
"I promise. It was great. Better than the chef at home."
Greyson's eyes softened as he stared at her.
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"As you wanna devour me," Emy said with her eyes down.
"And do you want me to?"
"Greyson!"
Greyson chuckled and leaned back in the chair.
" I.... I want to confess." Greyson said.
"Ok, go on, "Emy said as she wiped her hands.
"I like you. No, I love you, Emeralde Gibson."
Emerealde dropped the napkin.
"What?"
"I know this isn't the best time to confess, but I can't help it, Emy. I tried hiding it. I tried. I really did. But whenever I'm around you.. I can't help it."
"Greyson...
"Shh. Please let me finish. It wasn't at the club or when I had you in bed. It was when we argued. When you went on that stupid date with Michael. That was when I realised I can't see you with anyone else but me."
He took her hands into his.
"You don't need to give me an answer. Just know, I love you, Emy."
Greyson tightened his hands around hers, afraid she'd pull away from him.
"I've decided to stay here with you until you recover."
"What?"