“Seth,” he whispers through ragged breaths when I trail my hand down his sexy-as-hell stomach.
“You know, you made it sound like you went to the gym every so often.” I trace his muscles with my fingers. “But I’m thinking you must be one of those people who are workout psychotic.”
“Maybe… just… a… little…” He seems severely distracted as I fiddle with the button of his jeans.
I mess around with the button just a bit longer before I undo it, drag down his zipper, and slip my hand down his boxers. He groans when I grasp him, rocking into me. I get lost in the feel of him as I move my hand up and down, getting more turned on by the second.
I raise my head to kiss him, but he pushes back, grabbing the bottom of my shirt and jerking it over my head. He rolls over beside me and I move with him, confused about his intent until he undoes the button of my jeans and gives me exactly what I’m giving him.
I don’t know how to react. Braiden was never like this with me. He was always a taker and I the giver. I think about telling Greyson that, that he’s the only guy that’s ever touched me like this, but my lips can’t seem to function.
I’m not sure how I went from being afraid to kiss and tell my secrets to pouring my heart out and being with him like this. My mind is racing so quickly I can’t keep up, and rather than getting lost in my own head, I cling to Greyson, holding tight all the way to the end.
After things settle down, we lie on the sofa with our foreheads pressed together.
“You okay?” he asks as he struggles to catch his breath.
My heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest as I nod. “I’m more than okay… I’m perfect.”
When I say it, I realize how much truth those words carry and how long it’s been since I felt this way about someone. In fact, I don’t think I ever have. Whatever I’m feeling is completely new and raw and terrifying, but in the best way possible.
I just hope that I can hold onto it.
Chapter 12
Seth
Going home. Le sigh. What can I say about that other than it’s absolute, one hundred percent suckage? My mother is pretending I’m the son she wishes she had, telling every relative that came over for dinner that I fell in love with a girl at college and that I’m majoring in math, of all things. It’s annoying and degrading and I’m one step away from screaming at the top of my lungs who I’m really seeing. I swear to God, I’m going to do it right here in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner.
“Seth, did you hear what your grandmother said?” my mom asks from across the table covered with pies, side dishes, and a turkey.
I look up from my plate and shake my head. “But it doesn’t matter since she can’t even hear with her hearing aide.”
My grandmother smiles at me, confusion swirling in her eyes, while my mother looks she’s contemplating stabbing me with her fork.
“Watch it, young man,” she warns, cutting a piece of turkey. “I’m not going to tolerate your attitude.”
“Then I guess I better not talk.” I stab my fork into my salad, stuff my mouth full, and sarcastically grin at her.
She glares at me, but not wanting to cause a scene, drops the conversation and focuses on my aunt, who’s getting ready to marry husband number five.
After dinner, the family gathers into the living room to reminisce. Half the stories are either embellished, complete bullshit, or just plain dull. Bored out of my mind, I decide to text Callie and see if her trip home is going any better.
Me: Hey, darling. How’s it going? Good, I hope. Did you eat some delicious treats?
Callie: Maybe… But what kind of treats r u talking about?
Me: OMFG!!! Did u? Because I had this really weird feeling that you did.
Callie: Did what?
Me: U know what.
When she doesn’t answer me back, I can’t help but smile. She’s come so far from the girl I met back in the summer and I wish I could be there to hug her or something. Honestly, what I wish is that I could be as brave as she is, say to hell with fear, flip it the bird, and put myself out there for the world to see. Whatever happens, happens and I’d be able to handle it. Instead, I’m sitting in a living room filled with people who believe I’m a math major dating a girl named Sally.
Swiping my finger over the screen, I start a new message.
Me: Hey! How’s the vacation going?
Greyson: Mine’s going good. I’m actually sitting on the beach right now.
Me: That’s so not fair. I’m jealous :(
Greyson: If it makes you feel better, I’m thinking about u. Have been ever since I got here.
Me. Ha, ha, you’re such a sap. JK, I’ve been thinking about u, too.
Greyson: What are u doing right now?
Me: Sitting in the living room, listening to my mother tell fake stories about my college life.
Greyson. Seth… I’m so sorry.
Me: It’s not your fault. It’s my own damn fault for letting her. I just want to stand up and scream the truth.
Greyson: It has to be hard when it’s your own mother. I can’t even imagine. I can’t imagine a lot of stuff that you’ve gone through. You’re so strong.
Me: Yeah, right. If I was strong then I’d tell everyone the truth.
Greyson: It’s okay to be scared, Seth… I still am sometimes.
Me: Really??? U don’t seem like it.
Greyson: It’s not often, but sometimes when I hear someone say something stupid, I get a little uneasy.
Me: How do u deal with it so well? Because I’m dying to know.
Greyson: Honestly, I just shrug it off. Even though it’s hard, in the end it doesn’t really matter what other people think of you, as long as you’re happy. Life’s too short, you know, to let other people drag you down.
Me: Wow, you’re like super wise. Seriously. Maybe u should be the psych major.
Greyson. Yeah, that’d go well. I may be able to talk to you, but when it comes to complete strangers, I’m not as smooth.
Me: So u used all your smoothness on me, huh?
Greyson: Obviously. I just can’t help it. You’re too adorable.
A ridiculously goofy smile takes over my face as I move my fingers to type back.
“Seth, who are you texting?” my mother asks, interrupting me. “Oh. Is that Sally?”
I bite down on my lip and clench my phone in my hand as something snaps inside me. I think about what Greyson said. He’s so right. Life’s way too short to keep living like this.
I glance at the faint scars on my hand, the ones my mother made me cover up, and it fuels me with enough rage to stand up and confront her in a room full of people.
“Actually, that was Greyson,” I tell her. “You know, my boyfriend I met at college.”
Her face drains of color as her fingers strangle the cup she’s holding. “He’s kidding,” she says to everyone with an off-pitch laugh.
“No, I’m not.” My voice shakes, but I manage to stand firm. “And you know it. You’ve known it for a while now.”
“Shut your mouth,” she snaps, slamming the glass down on the table in front of her.
“”No, I’m not going to stay silent anymore,” I reply, my voice growing firmer. “This is who I am and you’re going to either have to accept it or stop forcing me to come home.”
It grows so quiet you could hear a pin drop. One of my uncles chokes on a cough and my aunt starts crying.
My mother trembles with rage as she rises from her chair and points to the door. “Get out of my house.”
“Gladly.” My legs shake as I pick up my coat and storm out the door. “Fuck,” I curse when I realize my car’s blocked in.
Having nowhere else to go, I slip on my coat and start walking down the icy sidewalk. The air has a nip to it and a layer of snow covers the grass. Goosebumps dot my arms and my teeth chatter, but I continue moving until finally I reach the gas station about a mile away. Inside, the place is practically empty. Even the tiny diner at the back has a total of zero customers. Taking a seat at one of the tables, I pull out my phone to text Greyson, but realizing how much I need to hear his voice, I end up dialing his number instead.