Hostile(17)

That I’m going to totally fuck over Rhys when he tries to hand me my new apprenticeship, but I’ll be working for the competition instead.

I’m beyond fucked up.

“I like this place. It suits you,” Bree says, looking around again.

“Yeah, as much as I want to be pissed at Blair, she does have good taste.” And I mean that. Nothing is flashy or crazy. It’s all very simple and dark. Very me.

Bree pulls her hand away gently and then pats my thigh. “Well, you have a fuckface on the way.” She stands, looking down at me. “Who is that, by the way?”

Well, shit.

“No one. Just someone from school.”

Her brows crinkle. She thinks I’m crazy but shrugs it off, walking toward the door. She turns to face me when she gets there, and I meet her there. “Friends?”

“Forever. You can’t get rid of me, Bree.”

She bites on her bottom lip and takes a quick, deep breath. “Okay, good. No more avoiding me. Eat lunch with me. I miss you.”

I smile. “Yes ma’am.”

She laughs and then kisses my cheek. “And if you decide you finally want to talk about all this . . .” She looks around again, and then her eyes are firmly on mine. “I’m here. Any time. Okay?”

I nod, but I’m not really sure when I can come clean with everything. When I can have a totally open conversation with her again.

She must give up on a verbal answer because she opens the door. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I walk her out to the top step, still numb from the surprise of her showing up.

We say a quick goodbye, and I watch her get into her car and drive away before I go back into my apartment.

So that just happened.

Only a few moments later, and there’s another knock. It’s closer to eight now, so it must be Grayson. Sure enough, when I pull the door open this time, the giant goofball with his way too gorgeous face and bright smile is standing there. “You actually opened the door.”

“Yeah. I’m as surprised as you are.”

He only laughs and holds up a paper bag by the handles from a local Italian restaurant.

“I thought you said pizza.”

He shrugs. “I thought pasta sounded a little better. I mean, it’s our first friend date, right?”

My entire body becomes hot at the word “date,” and I think he knows it by the quirk of his lips. “Not. A. Date.”

“Friend date, dummy. Let me in.”

He’s entirely too content. I mean really. You’d think the rich and spoiled would be pleased with how things turned out for them. But a lot of times, you hear their lives aren’t so great. But here Grayson is, always with a smile, always laughing, and looking actually fucking happy.

I move out of the way with a heavy sigh, and he brushes past me, the contact of his big-ass, muscular body brushing against mine nearly short-circuiting my brain for reasons I can’t explain.

Nothing feels normal around him.

Nothing.

Everything feels off-kilter and bizarre, but not in an unpleasant way like it should.

No . . . When he looks at me with those eyes, and his body is close to mine, I can’t think straight. I can barely breathe.

And for whatever reason . . . I don’t entirely hate it.





THIRTEEN





I can’t believe he opened the door, and I’m now standing in Rhett’s apartment. This can’t be real. It’s something I’ve dreamt about for what seems like forever. And yes . . . I know I’m getting way ahead of myself and acting like a lovesick idiot because he’s clearly hooking up with Bree . . . But still, it feels good being here.

Just being friends with him seems like a big accomplishment.

“Food?” I hold up the bag, and he grunts—not a talker, this one—and pulls down two plates from the cabinet.

He grabs two bottles of water, and then we sit down on the stools at a bar in the kitchen, scooping pasta onto the plates and starting to eat.

“This is so fucking weird,” he says before tipping the water bottle back against his lips and taking a big gulp. I can’t concentrate because my eyes are on his prominent Adam’s apple and the way it moves. Thinking about wanting to lick his throat, putting my lips and tongue every-fucking-where. Dragging my tongue lower and lower . . .

“Grayson?”

Shit. I force my eyes up to his, and he looks freaked-out with his brows raised. “Yeah?”

“I said this is weird, and then you go silent and are staring at me.”

Yeah. I need to get a grip. I sit up straighter and clear my throat. “What’s weird about two guys hanging out?”

“Two guys who haven’t even talked before. All of a sudden, we’re friends? It’s weird.”

“Only if you make it weird,” I quip, hoping he won’t suddenly decide to kick me out.

Thankfully, he shrugs and shovels pasta into his mouth. A mouth I can’t stop staring at. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me? I mean, I’ve had crushes before, but nothing like this.

And I’m pretty sure he’s totally untouchable, considering I saw Bree’s car leaving just as I was about to turn in. He’s with her. They’re the perfect, beautiful, slightly emo couple, and I’m the dumbass lusting after him like an idiot.