Chapter 14

Fourteen

IZZY

G rayson and I are unable to finish our conversation.

After falling asleep in his arms, I wake up to sunlight filtering through the window…and realize I’m late for school.

Grayson watches me with no small amount of amusement as I race around his apartment, attempting to make myself look presentable. I use his comb and toothbrush, and then I throw my leggings on from the day before. I don’t want to wear the same sweater, so I grab one of Grayson’s T-shirts from his dresser. It’s long on me, coming down to my knees, but the spark of masculine satisfaction and possession in Grayson’s eyes makes it worth it.

Grayson stops me just before I leave.

“Here,” he says gruffly, thrusting a to-go mug of coffee in my hands.

I fucking melt .

Grayson offers to drive me, and I’m just about to take him up on that offer when my phone pings with an incoming text.

Ansel

I figured you might need a ride, so I’m outside. Is that okay?

The message was sent about forty minutes ago.

Still, curiosity gets the best of me, and I move towards the window looking down onto the street below.

I spot Ansel’s car almost immediately, looking out of place amongst the rusty trucks and broken minivans. The man himself stares intently at his phone in the driver’s seat.

Ansel

Is everything okay? You haven’t been murdered, have you? Because I have to say, being an accomplice to murder wouldn’t look good on my school transcript.

A light, airy feeling rushes through me. For Ansel to not only pick me up but to remain here well after school already began…

My heart flutters.

“Who’s that?” Grayson growls from beside me, following the direction of my gaze.

Almost immediately, the butterflies inside of me drop dead.

I just slept with Grayson, yet there’s no denying my growing feelings for Ansel.

Does that make me a horrible person?

When I don’t immediately answer him, Grayson places his hands on my shoulders and gently spins me around to face him. His expression is unreadable.

“Izzy, I know you. Don’t lie to me and tell me he’s no one or just a friend.”

“He is just a friend,” I insist.

That’s the truth.

Grayson frowns. “But you want it to be more, don’t you?”

I don’t know how to respond. I barely know Ansel, yet I feel a strong connection to him. I love Grayson with my whole heart, yet…

Fuck, I feel like a greedy bitch.

What is wrong with me?

Grayson shuts down completely at my silence. His eyes shutter, obscuring his emotions from view.

“Gray—”

“We can talk about this later.” His voice is hoarse with some indecipherable emotion.

“But Grayson?—”

He stamps his mouth over mine in a possessive, claiming kiss. “I’m not mad, baby. But I think this is something we need to talk about—and not just a few minutes before you need to leave. I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Another kiss, one that makes my toes curl.

I place my hand on his cheek, relishing the feel of his prickly five-o’clock shadow beneath my palm, and whisper, “You mean the world to me.”

Yeah, I’m a coward. I can admit that. But I’m terrified of saying the dreaded L word and getting my heart shattered. Grayson already hurt me once. If he knew the type of power he held over me…

This time, I’m the one who initiates the kiss, though I don’t deepen it. Time stands still as our lips touch and sparks run through me.

“Go.” Grayson reluctantly pushes me away, his eyes molten. “I’ll see you later. You coming back here?”

“I have to work this afternoon, but I’ll be back after.”

“Are you ever going to tell me why you’re so pissed at your foster family? Did they…? Are you…?” Anger twists Grayson’s features at some unknown conclusion he comes to.

“No!” I shake my head adamantly. “Nothing like that. I promise. This is another thing that we’ll need to have a conversation about. It’s a long story.”

Grayson nods in understanding, but his jaw doesn’t lose its rigid tension.

I push up on my tiptoes to peck him one more time on the lips. Now that I’ve started kissing him, I don’t want to stop. I could spend the rest of my life with my lips fastened to Grayson Grey’s.

But unfortunately, I have things I need to do—things that don’t involve continually kissing my childhood best friend.

“Text you later,” I promise him as I pull away and reach down to sling my backpack over my shoulders.

“You better.”

With one more glance back—his eyes reflecting the yearning that’s no doubt in my own—I hurry out the door. A part of me wishes I could stay with Grayson, or at least kiss him one last time. I could use the courage his presence gives me.

I have the distinct impression I’ll need it to get through the day.