Chapter 4

4

Benji

I have no idea what got into my head when I thought it'd be a good idea to kiss Grace O'Leary. Obviously, I wasn't thinking. My heart froze up in my chest when the adorable little thing admitted she'd never had a boyfriend and had only been kissed at a wedding reception. When she was like seventeen.

It's hard to fathom how a hot girl like her has never had a boyfriend, but I also know what a stubborn jerk her brother can be. I need to drop Grace from my mind. Immediately.

Can't remember the last time I was with a girl who I was having fun with. Most of the girls here are only interested in bragging about their conquests— getting the football player to sleep with them.

That's why I don't date. No hassles, no commitments, no problem. When I do hook up with a girl, she knows the score. She knows it's a one-time thing and we both move on. Not only that, but I also never date freshmen. I cringe at the thought— expectant, clingy, immature, nothing but trouble.

I strip down to my boxer briefs and slip into bed. I'm tired, but I'm wired. Normally, the soft whirl of the ceiling fan puts me right to sleep. Not tonight. I can't help but wonder what Grace is doing. Is she asleep yet? Is she wondering about that kiss I almost gave her?

What in the hell was I thinking?

We were having so much fun with the hot chocolate and marshmallows, I lost my head. Big mistake. Not only does Grace go against my non-freshmen dating policy, but Miles would also chop my balls off if I even so much as laid a finger on his baby sister. Besides, I've got enough baggage for a lifetime, I don't need Grace O'Leary to complicate things any further. I need to focus on football, focus on studying, and get my degree.

I wake up, open my eyes, and reach for my cell phone on the nightstand. Barely past seven.

When was the last time I woke up this early on a Saturday?

Since there's no official team practice today, I still need to do my own workout. Instead of hitting the gym, I opt for a run.

I slide into my athletic shorts and slip on a T-shirt. I open my bedroom door and pad quietly down the hallway, so I don't disturb Grace. I left my running shoes in the laundry room which is right off the kitchen.

I tiptoe as stealthily as I can down the stairway and when I reach the kitchen, Grace has her back to me and is at the sink filling a water bottle. My eyes move from her head to her feet— her golden locks in a ponytail, a top that looks more like a sports bra that exposes her bare midriff, athletic shorts that hug her glorious ass and legs that go on for days.

I lick my lips and readjust myself in my shorts.

"You're up early," I greet as I reach for my water bottle on top of the refrigerator.

Grace lets out a squeal, turns to me and grabs her chest. "Oh my gosh," she breathes. "You scared me."

"What's up?"

"Just going for a run," she says as she screws the lid on her water bottle. "What about you?"

"Same." I rub the back of my neck. "Wanna join me?"

Her eyes light up. "You want to run with me ?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"I don't want to mess up your workout." She wrinkles her nose. "I was only planning to run about five miles."

"Five miles? Seriously? You must be a hardcore runner. I was only planning on three miles."

She smiles. "I love running. My day wouldn't be complete unless I can get in my routine."

"Impressive."

She shrugs. "It's a great way to relieve stress."

Stress for her and more like sexual tension for me.

I stare at her hot body and lose myself for a moment as I think of all the dirty ways I could show her what would relieve some stress. Her under me. Her on top of me. Her with my?—

"Benji?"

She breaks my dirty thoughts.

"Yeah?"

She grins. "You ready?"

"I'm always ready."

It's fun having Grace to run with. I normally run alone and although I like my private time away from roommates and teammates, Grace is entertaining.

She tells me funny stories about growing up with Miles as her big brother. Apparently, Miles wasn't always the studly dude he is now and, according to Grace, went through somewhat of an awkward teenage phase.

"What about you? What was growing up like in your family?" she asks as we take our run through McCaffee Park.

I hesitate on what to share. My childhood was the opposite of hers. She was raised by a single mother because her deadbeat father ran out on them. Grace never knew the guy and he left the family when she was just a baby. Her parents were never married, and her mother was left to raise Miles and Grace all on her own.

"Well, my parents still live in South Carolina. I have a younger brother and a younger sister."

Grace points to a path that veers to the right. We turn and continue our run. "My mom's a nurse. What about your parents? What do they do for work?"

"They own some businesses."

"Oh yeah? Anything I've ever heard of?"

I take a deep breath. "Ever heard of Candy Apple Red Cosmetics?"

"Sure, who hasn't?"

"They own it." I wipe the sweat from my forehead.

"Wow."

"Clayton and Clauson Bookstores, R. M. & Jason Clothiers, and Tinker Town," I blurt out.

Might as well get this over with.

"The toy store? Your family owns that?"

"They do."

We run silently and I take a quick glance at Grace. I let out a sigh as I wait for her comments. This is the part in my friendships and relationships where the judgement starts. People think that because my parents own these businesses that I have an attitude— think I'm better than everyone else.

Did I grow up wealthy? Yes. Did my parents spoil us? Probably. Although we got a lot of things and had more opportunities than many other kids our age, I respect the hell out of my parents for teaching us we had to work for what we wanted. They gave us a good work ethic and we didn't get everything handed to us. As soon as we were old enough, we helped with the businesses by working.

I break the silence. "Well?"

"What?" Grace turns to me, her eyebrows drawn together.

"I figured you'd have something to say about my family."

"I think it's really amazing."

"Thanks."

I grin to myself, and I can't think of anything to say except to thank her. Normally, I don't talk to anyone about my parents' wealth because I've learned my lesson before. The hard way. I've learned that people will use you for your money. I can already surmise that Grace is nothing like that.

We finish our run and return to the house. Once inside, I head straight for the shower. While I wash my hair, I can't help but think about how much I like being around Grace.

The only way I can think of to describe Grace —even though it sounds corny as hell— is a breath of fresh air. She's funny and she doesn't even know it. Maybe it's her naivety that makes me grin whenever she talks to me.

Whenever she looks at me with those big blue eyes of hers, I get a whole different feeling than what I'm used to. I'm not going to lie… I've had plenty of girls around here. I get around. I'm an athlete and as far as the Tennessee female population is concerned, they want to be a part of this lifestyle— to brag to their friends, to be with a popular athlete.

I can't let myself get lost in my feelings for Grace. Besides, what feelings could I possibly have? Why am I so attracted to this girl? She understands me. I like that. But, just like everyone else, she understands what she can see . It's the parts she can't see that worry me. What would she think if she knew I've made some mistakes along the way? Terrible ones. Mistakes that have cost me and hurt people I care about. I must keep in mind that I can't let Grace —or anyone— get to that other side of me. Knowing the circumstances of the way Miles and Grace grew up, I'm guaranteed Grace would never accept me. And that's why I can't let myself get tangled up with Grace O'Leary.