Chapter 7Grayson looked into Camden’s eyes. Their height difference forced Cam to tilt his head to meet his gaze.
“I’m not angry. I’m sick of you belittling me.”
Camden’s mouth opened as if he was to say something, then he snapped it shut.
“Being a painter is a real job, you know? I like what I do, and I’m good at it. I never want to go back to school. I don’t want a job sitting behind a desk. I don’t want to be responsible for other people’s lives. I don’t want to be in a position where I have to make a decision that will decide what their life will look like.” He didn’t want to remind Cam about the boy in the hospital, but Grayson never wanted to be in such a position.
“A paint bucket doesn’t have feelings. If a client dislikes the color, we can always pick a new one. We make things
