Chapter Thirteen - Part Two

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Maxwell

"Something wrong?" I ask. The irritation in her voice as she yells Grace's name is more than humoring to my ears.

"Something wrong...something wrong! This is what's wrong, Maxwell." She pulls out a skimpy nightgown that's mostly see-through. "You had something to do with this, didn't you? She packed lingerie as my pajamas. First there's only one bed and now this."

"I just instructed her to pack what was necessary, not what I would want." The effort I have to put forth in not smiling or laughing takes a great deal, but I remain calm and unfazed by Grace's joke. I walk up to her and place the thin fabric between my fingers. A smile spreads across my face, ruining my demeanor. I can't help the words from slipping out of my mouth. "You had this in your drawers?" My eyebrow perks up in speculation, wondering if I'm missing some crucial piece of information. "And who did you plan on wearing it for? Or should I say who have you worn it for?" I tease even though I know very well that she didn't wear these for anyone, because I took care of that.

Her hand rips the fabric out of my grip as her left hand punches me in the shoulder. She whimpers in pain, cradling her injured hand while I stand there insulted, but pain free. Flexing her hand to ease the pain, we both notice faint red smudges start to deepen in color as the wounds from her bone crushing grip on broken plate pieces begins to bleed. Her words are forced through what I assume to be stinging pain. "For your information, these aren't mine."

She holds the tiny fabric up by its brand new tags. "Huh." Is all I say before I walk away to let her change.

"Care for a pillow? A blanket maybe?"

"For what reason exactly?" I know what she's getting at, but I decide to give her hopes that she is going to get what she wants. Which she isn't.

"For you to be more comfy on the couch, you idiot." Even though she's resulting to name calling, the anger that should have been in her voice isn't there.

"No need, love."

"Oh, there is need...love." The disgust as she calls me love is classic and I'll never forget the roll of her eyes and the sneer of her lips as she said it. "You are sleeping on the couch," she adds to make her point even more clear.

"Oh yes, I am. I mean, especially after I know you're going to be wearing that." I can't help but laugh. For the first time in a long time a laugh rushes out through my hard lips and for a second I'm carefree and relaxed.

This little bickering between us is getting me more excited than it should. Her stick straight posture with her hands on her hips in disapproval is highly entertaining. Her cheeks are starting to flush from embarrassment, but her eyes give that infamous evil glare, so I offer an alternative. "You can always wear one of my T-shirts. Think of it as a nightshirt."

"Ha! You would get turned on more if I were to wear your shirt." Her accusation only makes me smile wider.

"You're probably right. Take your time on deciding what to sleep in while I go and thank Grace...I mean, go and lecture Grace about her terrible judgment. I'll be back in a few minutes." I strut out of the room, holding back my laughter the whole way to Grace's room.

After three soft knocks on her door, I lean against the wall across the hall until she opens it. The need to smile or laugh at Grace's outrageous behavior eats at me, but I remain serious. "You're not making it any easier on yourself to start this so called friendship up with Charlie. She's furious with her nighttime apparel."

"You ruined that already, so she'll have to learn to like me for the vampire I am. She hates me already, so I should make her hate me a little more before I reel her in with my best friend charm. Plus, it's only a nudge."

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