I slam to a halt in the middle of the grass. “Yet? That means you’ve been thinking about it.”
Her blush spreads across her face as she stops in front of me and stares out at the street. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“But you’ve thought about it?” I try to hide my excitement, but the fact that she’s thought about it means she’s making progress.
“Sometimes… but it seems so… I don’t know. I just never planned on ever feeling this way about a guy.”
“Kayden’s a good guy.” And I mean it.
Not too long ago, Callie told Kayden about how she was raped, and he’s been nothing but kind, considerate and understanding with her. That makes the guy cool in my book, which is a pretty damn fabulous book and kind of hard to earn a place in.
She plucks strands of her hair out of her mouth before looking at me again. “I don’t even know what I’m doing… I mean, he’s so experienced and I’m…” She gestures at herself and shrugs.
“What? Gorgeous? Kind? Smart? Funny?” I slip my arm around her and start toward the parking lot. “Any guy would be lucky to have you.”
She slides her arm around my back and gives me a hug. “You, too.” We break apart at the front of my car and she backs up toward the dorms, pointing her finger sternly at me. “Now tell Greyson. I know it’ll make you feel better.”
I wave at her and climb into the car, crossing my fingers that she’s right.
***
“I can’t believe we’re not going to see each other for an entire week,” I sulk as I rummage through Greyson’s fridge. We’re spending our last night together before we head back to our homes. I grab a beer, bump the fridge door shut with my hip, and pop the top of the bottle. Taking a swig, I shiver from the bitter taste. “You really need to get something besides beer.”
“What? Like those disgusting fruity drinks you were drinking the other day?” he teases from the sofa. He’s got his arms folded and the short-sleeved shirt he’s wearing makes his biceps looking amazing.
“Hey, those aren’t half bad.” I drop down on the sofa beside him and lean forward to glance over the stack of DVDs on the coffee table. “Which one are we watching tonight?”
His eyes are fixed on me, watching my every move so intently that I’m almost afraid to look up at him. “Your pick.”
“Hmmm…” I skim my finger over the titles. “I’m not really sure what I’m in the mood for. Definitely not an action, but that’s a given. Not a romance… not a comedy.”
Greyson lets out a low chuckle. “It sounds like you’re not in the mood for a movie.”
I think about what Callie urged me to do and her promise to put it on the list if I didn’t tell Greyson tonight. I know once the task makes it on the list, she’s going to bug me until I complete it because that’s what I do with her.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, I shift my weight and turn in the seat, bringing my leg onto the cushion. “I actually thought we could talk for a bit?”
“Talk about something specific?” he questions. “Or just talk, talk.”
I recline against the armrest, trying to get comfortable. “Talk about something specific.”
Something in my tone must warn him that we’re about to have a serious talk because he rotates toward me and gives me his undivided attention. “All right, I’m all yours for the night. Talk away.”
My stomach does the bad dance moves again, and I seriously wish I had an antacid or something, because I feel like I’m one foul taste away from barfing up beer. My gaze falls to the scars on my arm. The tiny white marks seem so insignificant, but I feel like they’re a brand, blazing for the entire world to see.
“It’s about my scars…” I trace my fingertip along the longest one, the one Braiden left when he stomped on my arm, crushing it into the dirt alongside my heart. “And about Braiden.”
“Can I ask… Who’s Braiden?” Greyson questions cautiously.
I summon another breath, and then force myself to look at him. “He’s the guy I used to date.”
He swallows hard, his gaze trailing over my arm before returning to mine, his eyes full of sympathy. A beat of silence goes by, and my heart dances like a lunatic inside my chest.
“I’m not sure how much of the story you want to hear,” I mutter. “I can give you the short version, if you want. It might be easier to take.”
“Easier to take?” He scoots across the sofa until our knees touch. “Seth, I’m not afraid of your past… It just hurts to imagine you being in that kind of pain, that a guy you cared about caused those scars.”
“Braiden didn’t act alone,” I explain. “His friends were there, too. They never really liked me, anyway.”
“That doesn’t make it any better.”
“I’m not saying it is… I’m just saying there were other people there and I didn’t care about any of them except…” I force down the lump welling in my throat and lower my head, staring at my hands. “Except Braiden.”
Greyson cups my face between his hands and forces me to look at him. “What did he do to you?”
The compassion in his eyes makes it easier to open my mouth and spill my soul. If I look too deeply, though, I see something else. Love, maybe. And that… Well, that makes me afraid. Blindly, breathlessly afraid, yet at the same time, I feel completely safe.
“We’d been seeing each other for a few months, using the excuse that I was his tutor to hook up while we were supposed to be studying. Braiden was… Well, he was the popular jock loved by all and completely heterosexual to everyone but me. Even though I hadn’t came out to my mother yet, there were kids at school who realized I’m gay. Word got around that Braiden and I were seeing each other.” I roll my eyes. “Because that’s what happens in Mapleville. When Braiden’s friends found out, they confronted him and he, of course, denied it. They told him to prove it and the proof they wanted was my blood on all their hands.” I shrug because I can’t think of anything else to say. “And there you go.”
“Seth.” His voice carries a gentleness to it, as if he’s afraid I’m about to break.
I realize I’m crying. “Oh, my God, this is so embarrassing.” I reach up to wipe the tears away, but he holds my face firmly in his hands.
“You should never be embarrassed for being who you are.” His words strike my heart, but I nearly fall apart when he wipes my tears away with his fingertips.
“I just want to forget it ever happened… But I have all these scars on my arm that won’t allow it… It’s why I’m so afraid to be with you. Like be with you, be with you.”
“God, I hate that they did this to you,” he says as he finishes drying my tears. “I wish I could make it go away somehow. Tell me what to do. Please.”
“I wish you could make it go away, too, but unfortunately you can’t… You can make it better for a little while, though.”
“How?”
Without giving a verbal answer, I lean forward and smash my lips to his. With a gasp, he splays his fingers across my cheeks and opens his mouth, deepening the kiss. At first I take my time, kissing him slowly, savoring each movement of his tongue, the warmth of his skin when I run my hands up his arms. The best part about it all is the sense of security I feel. I never felt this safe with Braiden. It was always, “Shut and lock the door. I don’t want anyone finding out about us.”
As I lie down on the sofa, Greyson moves over me, covering my body with his. I run my fingers through his hair, tugging hard, and bite at his lip. He groans, grinding against me, and my pulse quickens in both fear and excitement at the feel of him. The slow, teasing burn suddenly shifts to uncontrollable want and I get rock hard inside my jeans. I tug off his shirt and pull him closer, never wanting to let him go.