34. Grayson

34

GRAYSON

I rubbed at my face, blinking as the numbers on my phone came into focus. Why the fuck was I awake so early? Practice wasn't for another couple of hours, which meant I still had an hour until my alarm went off. My brain didn't want me to go back to sleep, though, my mind racing. All the shit we were going through was weighing so heavily on me, it felt like I was suffocating.

Since I was awake, I might as well text my parents for my fortnightly check-in. My mum was still back in England, so it would be mid-morning for her, and my dad was an early riser, always telling me he liked to get ahead before the official workday began so he could make sure he was finished in time to enjoy whatever leisure pursuits he was currently focused on. Golf. Tennis. Dating.

Blearily, I reached for my phone, propped up on my nightstand, and as I swiped the screen to open it, I noticed the text message alert blinking at me.

I scanned the words, a dawning horror rolling over me as I took them in.

"You absolute fucking idiot!" I shouted, launching myself out of bed, instantly wide awake. I pulled on the first pair of sweatpants I reached, throwing a Barracudas hoodie over my torso without bothering with a T-shirt. I only paused to swipe a pair of socks and my phone before I ran for it.

"Stupid…fucking…idiot…bastard…" I growled as I started up the ignition of my SUV, adrenaline racing through my body. "If anything happens to you, I'll kill you myself." Backing the car out of the driveway, I swung onto the road and hit the gas, heading for the lake.

Speed . I needed speed. Throwing my car into a space in the empty parking lot next to Micah's beaten-up Honda, I looked out at the jetty. Micah could be in trouble, and the only important thing was to get to him as fast as I could. The Jet Ski Cruz had commandeered was still there, unclaimed by its rightful owner—who probably hadn't even noticed it was missing—so I headed straight for it.

I flew over the lake with a roar of the engine, heading straight for the little beach. As I drew closer, I slowed the Jet Ski, scanning the shoreline.

Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Over the sound of the engine, I could clearly make out the sound of something or some things crashing through the undergrowth, and the distant, furious barking of a dog.

A second later, Micah crashed into view, a backpack bouncing madly on his shoulders, his eyes wild as he ran for the rowboat that was pulled up on the beach.

The barking was louder, accompanied by shouts. Fuckfuckfuck. "Micah!" I shouted. "Here! There's no time!"

His head flew up, his eyes widening as he took me in, and then he abandoned the boat, wading into the water as fast as he could. I moved the Jet Ski as near as I dared, and fucking finally, he was clasping my hand and letting me help him up onto the Jet Ski. I only waited for a second to make sure he was holding on to me before I launched us back over the waves, away from the beach and whatever had been chasing him. I could feel his body shaking against mine, his head buried in the back of my neck as he wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, his breaths coming hard and fast as we bounced across the lake surface. I was struggling to regulate my own breathing, but I was focused on getting us back, relieved that he was safe, and I didn't know whether I wanted to fucking punch him for being so reckless. Or kiss him.

Whoa. I eased up on the throttle, my heart pounding for a whole different reason. Where the actual fuck had that thought come from?

It must be the adrenaline. Maybe I was going into delayed shock.

I steered the Jet Ski carefully back to the jetty and switched off the engine, holding myself still as Micah shook against me. Eventually, I tapped at his hand, which was fisting my hoodie.

"Hey. We need to leave."

I felt him nod against me, and then inhale a shaky breath. "O-okay," he whispered, but he made no attempt to move. Carefully, I peeled his shaking hands away from my hoodie, and then somehow managed to get him off the Jet Ski and back into the parking lot. He slumped against the side of my SUV, his gaze blank and his body still trembling.

"For fuck's sake," I muttered, giving in to my instincts and wrapping my arms around him. He more or less collapsed into me, and I had to brace myself in order not to stagger backward at the sudden weight.

"I'm sorry," he said, so quietly I barely heard him.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Micah?" I said harshly. "Why did you go there alone? Why did you put yourself in fucking danger like that?"

He gasped, wrenching himself away from me. "You're shaking. You—you— I?—"

My voice rose. "Yeah, I'm shaking because I'm fucking angry at you! Anything could have happened!"

His eyes grew impossibly wide, full of wonder as he stared at me. "You care. You actually care ."

"Of course I fucking care, you complete fucking?—"

He cut my words off with his mouth on mine. My heart stuttered, my brain slamming to a halt as he kissed me.

It was over before I even had time to process it. He launched himself away from me, his backpack slamming into the side of his car as his hand flew to his mouth. His cheeks flushed a deep red, and there was a panicked expression back in his gaze.

"Shit! S-sorry! I-I-I didn't mean to do that."

I had no idea how to react. No clue what to do or say, so I did what any normal person would do, and acted as if it was no big deal.

Yeah. No big deal that my coach's son had just fucking kissed me out of the blue. The very person I'd always assumed was straight, thanks to the thing he'd had for Ava forever. Until Cruz had started insinuating shit, that was. And also, why kiss me? He knew I was straight.

I ignored that momentary thought I'd had on the Jet Ski earlier, rubbing my face as I stifled a groan. There went my brain again, adding more complications to the mix.

"Don't worry about it. You're in shock," I said, stepping into his personal space and tentatively rubbing his shoulders in a way that I hoped conveyed friendly comfort. "We need to get out of here. Are you okay to drive? I don't like the idea of leaving your car here for someone to find."

He shivered again. I didn't pay attention to the way his tongue swiped across his lower lip, leaving it glistening, but I didn't not pay attention, either. His gaze darted to mine before returning to the ground. "Um. Yeah."

"Okay. You go ahead, and I'll follow you. That way, if you need to pull over or anything, I'll see you and I can pull over too. Head to the rink, yeah?"

He nodded and then unlocked his car door with a trembling hand. I waited until he was seated inside the car before I climbed into my SUV. We headed back to campus, pulling up next to the rink. My teammates would be up and about now, preparing for our morning practice, so the rink was our safest bet. Otherwise, if we went back to the house, we ran the risk of awkward questions, and how did I explain Micah being there so early? Luckily, most of my hockey shit was either already in my SUV or in my locker, so there was no real need to swing by the house first.

I got Micah a spare pair of sweatpants since his were wet from the lake and made sure he was seated in the stands before I headed to the locker rooms to change. He was so quiet, his skin pale beneath his tan and his gaze distant. I was worried about him, but it would have to wait. My captain duties had to come first—only temporarily, because this was more important. But the last thing I wanted to do was draw more attention to him, especially with his dad there.

After an endless, torturous practice, I removed my helmet, ruffling my damp hair as I glanced toward where Micah was hunched over his camera, his shoulders slumped. I started toward him but was stopped by Coach.

"Good practice, son. I'm impressed with your leadership skills. The way you handled Smith—" He shook his head, huffing out a laugh as he clapped me on the back. "Nice work. Keep it up. Lead the team just like that, and we'll crush the opposition at our next game."

"Lead us not into temptation," Miller spoke up, smirking at me. "The Halloween party," he added when I raised a brow in question.

"You boys have a good night. Don't party too hard." Coach clapped me on the back again and then did the same to Miller. His gaze shot toward Micah. "Micah!"

Micah's head flew up.

"You're attending this party?"

Micah nodded slowly.

"Good. It's about time you socialized with these guys, instead of being shut up in your bedroom. Remember, though, you have a responsibility to behave." Coach turned back to me. "Keep him in line." He winked, grinning at me, and I held back a wince, gritting my teeth. Now my eyes had been opened, I fucking hated the way he acted toward Micah.

Micah didn't even respond verbally, just dropped his gaze to the floor, slumping forward again. Coach rolled his eyes but turned away to say something to another of my teammates. I took the opportunity to skate over to Micah.

"Wait for me? We'll go back to mine."

He nodded listlessly, not even looking at me. My stomach churned. Something was wrong with him, and I needed to find out what it was. Now.

"…I didn't know what else to do. I ran. I wasn't even thinking; I just needed to get away."

Micah was seated on my bed, resting against the headboard, hugging his knees. His entire body was tensed like he was ready to flee at any second. As he finished up his explanation of what had happened at the lake, I shook my head. Fuck. Anything could have happened to him. If I hadn't woken up early…

"Promise me you'll never do that again. Don't go off on your own."

"Stop trying to control me," he bit out, some of his fire finally returning, and I didn't want to admit to myself how relieved I was to see it.

"This isn't about me trying to control you. This is about you staying safe and not fucking running into unknown situations on your own. It's the same for any of us, me included."

"You care." It was the same thing he'd said to me back at the lake, and there was just as much wonder and disbelief in his voice as there had been the first time. I cursed his dad silently in my head for letting him think he wasn't worth caring about. Fucking hell, I cared about him too much, if anything?—

"Gray?"

I blinked, seeing Micah eyeing me warily.

"Of course I fucking care," I growled. "I told you that before, and I'll tell you as many times as it takes to get it through your head."

"Oh." He bit down on his lip.

"Yeah, oh ." I got up from my desk chair and crossed the room to my bed, taking a seat on the edge. Turning to face him, I lifted my hand, almost on autopilot, brushing back a strand of hair that had fallen down over his face. I ignored the soft gasp that fell from his throat, holding his gaze. "Listen to me. I. Fucking. Care."

He swallowed hard, his throat working. "I…I care too."

My lips curved upward. "Yeah. I know. You kissed me." Why the fuck was I bringing this up now, and why was I smiling about it?

His cheeks flushed, but his eyes narrowed, and yeah, there was the Micah I knew and liked. "So? I kissed Ava and Cruz already."

"You kissed Cruz ?" I stared at him, all thoughts of our kiss momentarily forgotten. "What the actual fuck? Cruz Martinez? Why? Why would you do that?"

He shrugged. All his nervousness seemed to have disappeared, replaced with humor at my reaction to this piece of news. "He kissed me. Or I kissed him. It was… I dunno. I don't think he planned it. Either time."

"You kissed him more than once ?" My mouth was wide open. Sudden images assaulted my mind. Micah and Ava in that video I'd been sent. An image my brain helpfully conjured up of Micah and Cruz kissing… My dick, already perking up at the memory of the hot-as-fuck scene of Ava and Micah, perked up even further at this new thought.

"Don't answer that," I bit out, rising to my feet and turning away so I could surreptitiously adjust my wayward dick. "Come on. Show me the pictures you got. Maybe there's something we can use."

Two hours later, my former noticeboard had become an evidence board. We'd printed the images Micah had taken, including a close-up of the strange symbol over the mausoleum entrance, which I wanted to research more closely. We'd made a copy of the written note I'd received and printed copies of our texts. Everything had been pinned up on the board. I paced back and forth, scanning the pieces of evidence as I tried to work out if there were any patterns. Anything we were missing.

"Will anyone see this?"

Glancing down at Micah, seated in my desk chair, I shook my head. "Nah. I lock my door when I'm not here, and when I am here, no one comes in without invitation. Everyone knows my room is my sacred space."

"What about girls?"

"Girls?" Good question, and fuck, had it really been that long—? "I haven't been with any girls since…since before we got that first text. I haven't even made out with anyone."

"Other than your kiss with Ava in the library," he reminded me, the corners of his lips kicking up.

"Other than that," I confirmed, smiling back at him.

His tongue swiped across his lips. "Boys?"

I leaned down, planting my hands on either side of him, wrapping my fingers around the arms of the chair. "Definitely no boys. Never any boys."

"Except me," he whispered.

We stared at each other for a long, charged moment before I straightened up with a sigh, rubbing my hand across my face. I couldn't go down that road. Not now. Life was complicated enough as it was.

And it was only one day until the Halloween party.

A chill went through my body as my gaze was drawn to the printed copy of the message I'd received.

Happy Halloween, Grayson .