13
The back of Jenna’s neck tingled. She knew Greyson was watching her as she rummaged through his drawers, making her feel uncomfortable about the whole situation. She tried to pick out an outfit as quickly as possible, but everything was large.
Like him.
Even his presence was overwhelmingly large.
“Do you need help?” Greyson asked, his voice thick.
Jenna glanced over and immediately wished she hadn’t. Must he stare at her so intensely? It was as if he was trying to cut a hole through her with his eyes.
She looked back at the drawer, which was now messy from her rummaging, avoiding his eye contact. He must be irritated with her. It wasn’t her fault, and she wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. She had tried to leave, but he wouldn’t let her.
“I don’t need help,” she finally said.
