Mr. Johnson

Fifteen

Greyson Walker

"Never say that name again," his face turned stern and angry.

I knew I needed to change the subject, and fast.

I point to his bulge, "Nice underpants."

"My God, Greyson," he turns back towards the stove, "A man can wear his boxers in own house."

"Yeah,yeah," I nod and take the last bite of eggs from my plate, "So can we talk about your sister?"

His entire body let go of the tension he has been holding for the past few minutes, "My sister is the golden child of the family," he smiles and shakes his head, "And she knows it. Even more so now that married a Cardiothoracic surgeon."

"I know what you mean," I sigh, "My brother is most definitely the favorite."

He smiles as he walks to the couch, sliding on his sweatpants.

"You didn't have to put those back on."

I can read his face like a book before he ever says his words, "The bartender called me because he thought that I was the boyfriend you talked about, but I'm not."

Speaking of boyfriend... I haven't even checked my phone to see if Seth had tried to call or text.

Actually, where even is my phone?

"Did you happen to grab my stuff when you picked me up last night?"

He points to the table in the hall beside the door, "Phone, purse, wallet, it's all there. I double checked before we left."

"Thank you," I make my way over to the table and grab my phone.

Three missed calls from Sam
And one text message from Seth.

I click on it.

Hey if you aren't busy this afternoon, I am going to a golf tournament with Callum and a few of his work friends...I would love for you to come

He sent it almost an hour ago.

I look over at Killian and can't help but feel sick to my stomach. He is always there for me, every single time... how is he single?

"How in the world are you single?"

He turns to face me, laughing, "That was random."

"No, like you are one of the nicest people I have ever met," I walk towards the couch, "You are always there for me even when I don't ask or realize it, and you always try to do the right thing no matter what..."

He stares at me as I sit down beside him.

"I mean it would all make sense if you were awful in bed-"

His eyebrow raises, "But I'm not?"

Realizing what I had just admitted, I feel my cheeks warm up- undoubtedly red.

"No, you are the exact opposite of awful in bed."

He twitches his nose, standing from the couch and walking to the kitchen, "I'm single because it's easier."

"Easier?" I follow him, "I don't understand?"

"If I don't get involved then I can't get attached," his eyes were focused on a glass bowl sitting on the counter. His hands raked through his hair as he took a deep breath, his abs flexed naturally, "And if I don't get attached... then I can't get hurt."

I speak softly, "But sometimes getting hurt can lead to something so much better."

"Yeah," he shrugs, "Sometimes. Other times it just destroys you and leaves you in a dark place."