Hostile(20)

It didn’t work. Not even after jerking off because all I could think about was Grayson. Those full lips attacking mine. His hard body pressed against mine. I can’t fucking breathe.

I can’t concentrate.

“Wow. I’m flattered.”

My entire body jolts at the sound of a deep voice behind me. “Why?”

He moves to my side. I can’t help breathing in his intoxicating scent. Clean and crisp—probably expensive. “Those are my lips you’re sketching.”

He nods to the paper in front of me. Just lips. That’s all I can seem to work on this morning. I hate that he’s right. They’re his.

“Go. Away.”

“No.” He sits down on the stool next to me. “I mean, I would if I thought that’s what you really wanted.”

“Says every single creep ever.” There’s no malice in my tone, though, because he’s not wrong. I didn’t even want to push him away last night, but I couldn’t handle the feelings coursing through me.

It was a spark lighting a flame that had been simmering under the surface. One I didn’t even know was there. A fire I swear I didn’t think I was capable of.

“Rhett.” His voice is quiet and cautious. It’s so vulnerable, I look over at him and see the weariness all over his face.

“Not here, Grayson.”

“Afraid I’ll out you?” He isn’t saying it in a threatening way, more curiously.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll do that to you? Last night you seemed pretty freaked-out about that possibility. I doubt your little, dude bro-friends would be very accepting.”

“First of all, you don’t know them. Hell, I barely know them.” I raise an eyebrow, and he continues, “But yeah. I don’t know what they would think, and I don’t really care.”

“Right,” I scoff.

“Okay, fine. I care a little but not enough to let you push me away. That kiss . . .”

“Keep it down,” I hiss, my eyes frantically darting around the empty art room. I was the subject of enough high school-gossip when I got here—all ripped jeans, hoodie, and go-to-hell attitude. I’m sure they could smell the poor on me. Whispers were heard down every hallway. And now that I’m nearly free of this place, that’s the last thing I need. I soften my tone slightly and shoot him a pleading look. “Please.”

“I want to talk about it.”

I do too. But I also don’t. My mind is a whirlwind of confusion, and I don’t know what I want. I stare too long at his full lips and high-cut cheekbones, and I try to swallow the lump in my throat along with the desire I can’t deny. “Later.”

“Tonight’s volunteer night, right?”

Jesus Christ, is he kidding? “No. That’s not a thing for you. It’s volunteer night for me. Not you.”

He looks unbothered, standing up from the stool. “Wrong. I told Tanya I’d be back.”

Mother. Fucker.

“Grayson.”

“I’m going, Rhett.” He looks determined, and I know there’s no stopping him. But I also don’t think it’s just to bug me or to go along to talk to me about last night. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand, looking almost nervous. “I want to check on Laney. She’s cool.”

I fight a smile and sigh loudly instead. “You’re a real pain in the ass.”

He grins at me, dropping his hand to his side. “Did you walk today?”

“Yeah.” I nod in the direction of one of the windows showing off a bright, sunny day outside. “Not raining.”

“I’ll still give you a ride,” he says, so sure of himself, I don’t know if I’m turned-on or annoyed.

“No.” I turn fully around on the stool, but instead of backing down, he steps into me, leaning down and placing a hand on either side of me, his palms flat on top of the art table behind me.

“Yes.”

Fuck, okay. Yeah, it’s turned-on. Very turned-on. Way too turned-on to have eight hours of school left.

“Fine,” I snap, and he doesn’t look surprised.

The fucker actually leans in even closer until his mouth is near my ear. “I can’t wait.”

I close my eyes involuntarily, breathing in his clean, masculine scent and willing my body to calm down. I can’t do anything about my raging hormones right here, and he knows it.

When my eyes flutter open, he’s pulling away, leaving the room with a knowing wink, and I wish like hell I was annoyed.

Annoyed, I can handle.

More turned-on than I’ve ever been in my entire life?

Yeah, that’s new.





FIFTEEN





I need to play it cool. I know that. I keep telling myself that. But do I listen? Hell no. Because I can’t stop staring at him. He’s fucking perfect.

And that kiss.

Jesus. That. Kiss.

I can’t get it out of my mind. I want to do it again and again. And honestly, it scares the shit out of me that I’m probably more than willing to put up with a lot of shit from Rhett to get it.

“I like her cookies.” I pull my attention away from Rhett, who’s hanging out at the other table with Max and Ian and smile at Laney, who’s telling me about her foster mom.