Not Even His Assistant 2

Chapter Nineteen - Pt. One

Ch. 19 - He's Good? He's Bad? (Greyson POV) Pt. 1

"Greyson, I love you." Connor actually said those words to me.

I wasn't even sure if the moment was real. I wasn't even sure how to feel! I'd decided I was officially done with this trash human being and now he was doing this? It was a low blow.

"You don't have to say anything, come on. I'll take you home." He walked out of the shallow water and back in the direction of the car.

I just stood there for a moment, still uncertain. I totally wanted to say something! But what was I supposed to say to that? What did I want to say to that?

I finally followed him, keeping the physical distance between us. My mind started playing through all the nice things he was saying about me and how those things were why he loved me.

The small parking lot had a shower that Connor started using to rinse off his feet. I stood a few feet away from him, watching him wearily.

He didn't look back at me. I tried opening my mouth, but nothing wanted to come out. Should I tell him to shut up? It was a little too late for that. Well, I could've told him that he shouldn't have said anything!

My heart was racing and I hated that. I didn't like how nervous I felt. How could he say that and be so calm and composed? He just oozed confidence and self-assurity. Whereas I felt like I was going to implode.

We finally got into the car, still completely silent. It was so quiet, I was sure anyone could hear a pin drop. Anyone except for me because my mind was just screaming a constant loud sequence of A's.

How did this happen?

I felt so awkward. I wanted to look over to him, but I couldn't bear to have him look back at me. I wanted to disappear. Of course, this beach had to be so far away from home.

I finally tried my hand at being a brave little toaster and looked over at him. He still had the full beard that made him look like a true man and his way too clean hair had a soft pomade holding it back in waves, out of his eyes.

Without turning his head, his warm brown eyes shifted, catching me staring at him. I quickly turned my head around, as if he hadn't already caught me, feeling warmth radiate off my body. I wasn't a brave little toaster, I was a cowardly lion.

"Connor," I finally said, needing to break the deafening silence.

"Please," He cut me off, causing me to turn my gaze back to his general direction. "Don't say anything." He looked at me for a quick second before turning back to the road. "I can't," He hesitated, "I can't handle a rejection right now."

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. What the fuck was happening right now? The calm, cool, collected Connor couldn't handle a rejection? And that alliteration was dope as shit!

I felt a headache coming on with how much my brain could not process all that was.

He also called you selfish the other day, my mind reminded me. Oh boy.

We finally pulled up to my house and I tried to push the door open, feeling stupid when I remembered it opened vertically. Once I figured out how the door worked, I stepped out and leaned into the car to look at him. He had this sheepish look on his face that was so uncharacteristic of him. I couldn't deal with all this.

"Connor, I don't even know what to think!"

"I know, it's okay. Just enjoy the rest of your day."

I couldn't stand him. Why was he doing this to me? I shut the door, hard and retreated to my apartment. I didn't look back for a second, just inserted my key and stepped on in. Once the door was safely closed and locked behind me, I scurried around to the window to peek out of the blinds.