Hostile(34)

He’s laying on the sarcasm pretty thick. I search my brain for a reason I shouldn’t do this. It’s too soon. We barely know each other. I have no idea what we are, and what if a trip gives him . . . ideas of what we are? Shit. I don’t voice any of those concerns though. What comes out of my mouth instead is, “You don’t have practice?”

He grins, and the asshole knows he has me. “Nope. Our last basketball game is Friday, and I don’t start baseball practice for a couple of weeks after break.”

“Jesus. You really do play all the sports.”

He ignores my obvious observation. “You don’t start your new job until after spring break. So, let’s get away for a few days.” His eyes search mine and, at the same time, ask me to trust him. “I want to get to know you better.” He grins. “And I want to make you come more.”

Asshole. The thought of him touching me more, of his hot mouth wrapped around my cock and also being able to see the intoxicating sight of him letting go . . . It’s too damn much to resist, especially after thinking I wasn’t capable of that for so long. I should say no. I know I should. But I look into his eyes, and it makes my heart race with excitement. “Okay.”

I don’t know what the hell he’s doing to me.

But I don’t want to run away from it either.





TWENTY-THREE





“Finally!” Blair wraps her slender arms around my neck and practically pulls me into the house. I can’t stop the small smile forming on my lips. I missed her. I haven’t been home since I moved out.

“Blair. Don’t strangle the kid.” I hear Rhys’s deep voice as he walks up, but Blair doesn’t release me.

“I’m not strangling him. I’m hugging him, and then I might slap the shit out of him . . .” She still holds onto me but pulls back enough to look into my eyes. “You haven’t been home in months.”

I almost laugh and manage a smile. “It hasn’t been months, Blair.”

“It feels like it. What the hell?”

I turn serious because even though she’s kidding, I know it hurts her. “I’m sorry. I’ve been kind of busy.”

“Yeah. He has a new friend.” Fletch walks down the stairs just in time to give me shit.

“What?” Blair lets go of me, but she remains close. “You have a friend?”

It should be sad she’s so damn surprised by the notion of me having a friend, but I can’t blame her.

“Oh yeah.” Bree walks into the foyer—dressed in her ripped jeans and a cool, cropped tee, with her hair in a ponytail and rocking the same Converse sneakers she usually does—wearing a great big smile. “He definitely has a new friend. A new secret friend he won’t tell us anything about.”

I shrug and stick my hands in my pockets, feeling like an asshole for not giving them more details. I’ve spent a few nights hanging out with Grayson since that first night. Swimming and fooling around until late, and then I always go back to my place. I should resist him, but I can’t seem to.

He’s excited about our trip to the cabin. We leave tomorrow. I couldn’t turn him down on that either. No matter how many times I told myself I would. I tried to make myself say the words, but what came out was “sure,” instead of “no.” So, it seems I’m going on a three-day trip with Grayson.

I thought I should make an appearance here first. But since they’re hellbent on giving me shit, I’m starting to regret it.

“You know Grayson. We go to school with him.” I say to Bree as she hugs me quickly.

“Grayson?” Rhys says the name in a neutral tone, but I can hear the hint of suspicion in it.

“Grayson Lancaster. The third,” Fletcher supplies oh, so helpfully.

I glare at him, but he just shoots me an overly happy smile.

“The third?” Blair asks, one hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised.

“Why the hell are we talking about Grayson? I thought I was here for dinner.” I try to distract them, but they’re all too smart for that.

“Because it’s weird. And you know it,” Bree says as she takes my hand and drags me to the dining room with everyone else following. “I don’t get it. You guys have nothing in common. What can you possibly like about him?”

His dick, his mouth on my dick, his hands on my dick . . . is probably not a good answer.

I know it’s a lot more than that. So much more. But it’s fucking confusing.

I keep telling myself I’ll tell them when I know the answers myself, but at this point, I’m not sure what’s really holding me back. They won’t judge me for being with a guy. I know that deep down, but I can’t seem to say anything.

I shrug. “I just do.”

I sit down across from Fletcher, who’s eyeing me. “You just do? He’s a jock.”

“So? What the hell does that matter?” I snap defensively, but Fletch doesn’t back down, and he doesn’t look hurt by my tone either.

“It just does,” he shoots back at me.

“Okay, boys. Relax.” Blair takes a seat at the end of the table and passes me a plate full of rolls. “I’m glad you have a new friend. And if you want to tell us more about him, you can.”