Hostile(12)

I try not to. I don’t want to think about him at all. My eyes subconsciously drift in his direction anyway, taking in his straight, white teeth as he smiles at the kids and jokes around. Trying to ignore the way the veins in his biceps bulge when he moves his arms, coloring the white sheet of paper in front of him.

“He’s fine.”

Max laughs again, concentrating on his drawing more than me, but I can feel Tanya eyeing me again. Heat creeps up my neck to my cheeks as I wonder if she saw me looking too long at his strong muscular arms or his stupid handsome face.

If she knows the thoughts running in my head, she doesn’t say anything. She leaves to help someone else, and I go back to what I was doing.

Ian joins us, and I do my best to teach them the proper technique for shading. When it’s time to go home, I skip putting on my still-damp jacket as does Grayson. We walk toward the exit together.

“You can go now,” I grunt, pushing through the doors.

I can practically feel him roll his eyes but don’t look. “It’s still raining. Quit being a pain, and let me take you home.”

I bristle, pissed off that he doesn’t seem to fear me at all. Not that I want him to, but it’s sort of an unwritten agreement that we leave each other alone. That his little friends stay the fuck away from me, and we all just coexist. I stop walking before we get to his car, but still under the cover of the building’s ledge. “What’s your sudden interest in me?”

He meets my eyes. “I think we established I’ve had an interest in you for a while.”

Shit. “Don’t say stuff like that to me. It doesn’t sound right.”

“How does it sound?”

I hate his stupid deep, husky voice. I hate what it does to me even more and push my legs to start walking. “Fine. Give me a damn ride home. But that’s it. We aren’t friends.”

He quirks a smile as we climb into his entirely too expensive car, and he starts it. “Oh, Rhett. I think we’re going to be great friends.” He smiles and backs out of the parking spot with a confidence I can’t stand.

Not fucking likely.





NINE





I drive Rhett to his place, but he surprises me when I park the car in the driveway, and he doesn’t immediately dart from the car. I turn to look at his profile—his strong jaw and pouty lips. His left arm is covered in beautiful black ink. His sandy-blond hair is disheveled from the rain, and I love that it’s buzzed on the sides and much thicker on top.

“What are you looking at?” He turns, his blazing greens boring into me.

“You,” I answer honestly, still fully aware he could go totally crazy on me but not finding the motivation to care.

“Don’t.” There seems to be less venom in his tone now, but maybe it’s just been a long day, and he doesn’t have it in him.

I turn my gaze to the small, white house I’m parked at. It’s not rundown or dilapidated by any means, but still it’s not anything I’m used to. It’s simple. On the smaller side with a one car garage that has stairs on the sides, running up to what looks like a room above it.

“This is cool.”

He blows out an impatient huff of air, and his eyes meet mine. “I hate that you know where I live.”

I can’t help the slow grin from forming on my face. “I like it.” I look back at the house. “Can I come in? Meet your parents?”

“My parents don’t live here. And no.”

My brow furrows. I may have asked around a little about him and found out he’s adopted. And I thought he lived with his adoptive parents and his two siblings. “They don’t?”

“No. I moved out. I live here.”

I look back at the simple-looking house and whistle low. “Wow. Nice. You rent?”

He scoffs and shakes his head at me like I’m an annoying puppy, nipping at his heels and following him around. Of course, Rhett makes me feel that way. “Not the house.” His gaze slides to the garage, and I nod in understanding.

“Cool, man. So, can I see your garage apartment?”

I’m too forward with him. I know that. Normally, I’m cool and detached. People drift toward me, but that’s not going to happen with Rhett. I have to be the aggressor. The one who makes every move, and something about that lights me on fire.

I feel challenged around him.

Something I haven’t felt in a really, really long time, if ever.

“No.” He shuts me down easily, like I knew he would.

“Oh, come on. You know you wanna show me your place.”

He shoves his fingers through his thick hair. “No. I don’t. It’s bad enough you know where I live. Now, you need to go away.”

He starts to open the door, but I reach out, grabbing his wrist. His gaze flies to mine, and my breath catches at the contact and the fact that he doesn’t pull away.

“Grayson.”

I don’t release him. “Most people call me Lancaster.”

“Yeah well, that’s just stupid.”

I laugh at his bluntness, and I actually pull an honest-to-god smile from him. Fuck, he’s beautiful. “Is it now?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have the same last name as your siblings,” I say stupidly, and he pulls away from me, jerking his wrist out of my hold.