Chapter 28. Grayson
Grayson
Akari was in a mood today. She barely looked at me and Eloise during her class, except to tell us we were underwhelming.
And while I don’t particularly care, I can tell it bothered Eloise.
Classes after that weren’t any more promising.
They ran late, for one, delaying dinner.
Now that’s wrapped up, and Eloise is exuding a kind of anticipatory nervousness that makes me wonder if she’s planning on stabbing me in the hall.
She keeps glancing at me and pressing her lips together as we walk toward our suite.
It takes three quarters of the walk for it to dawn on me that she might be stressing over the fake dating thing. Is she worried because I haven’t made a move yet or because she doesn’t want me to?
“If you’re uncomfortable,” I start. “We don’t have to—”
“I know,” she says too quickly. “I’ve just never done anything like this before.”
I laugh. “You think I have?”
“I think you’ve dated people, yeah,” she says, and I’m so startled, I stop in the hallway.
She stops, too, turning to face me. “What?” she says in a huff.
I rub the back of my neck. “No, nothing. I just didn’t realize you’d never dated anyone.”
She looks up at the ceiling and back down. “It’s not like I’ve never kissed anyone. I’m not—damn it, Grayson, it’s not that shocking. I live at the weakest section of the wards. I can’t even leave my house after dark. How do you expect me to have an actual relationship?”
Her embarrassment flares and I feel like an absolute jerk. It somehow never occurred to me that on top of all the crappy treatment the Labor kids get that their lives are stripped of this very basic privilege.
“Don’t you dare pity me,” she says, a warning in her eyes.
But she’s wrong. I don’t feel pity at all; I feel pissed on a primal level at the wrongness of it. And I understand in a whole new light why she asked me to spearhead this. So, I lighten things to take the edge off her current emotions.
“You going to hit me with those?” I ask, nodding at her clenched hands.
“I’m seriously considering it,” she says.
I step closer with a smile. “Go for it. I’ll give you the first shot.”
She side-eyes me. “Don’t tempt me.”
I take another step closer.
“Here, I’ll even help you,” I say, and reach for her hand, placing it on my chest—a simple test to see how she reacts. Because there is no way I’m fake dating her if she doesn’t want me to touch her hand. God, is that even a sentence?
She sucks in air and I’m once again affected by her scent, which is decidedly no longer annoyed. Only now I’m annoyed—at myself, for being happy about it.
“What?” she asks, not removing her hand from my chest.
A group of first-year girls rounds the corner, including Willow, who I tripped because she insulted Eloise.
“Showtime, Claws,” I reply, stepping forward one last time, leaving no more than an inch between us.
She leans against the wall and I brace my hand on it as though we are having an overly friendly conversation.
I bend to whisper in her ear. “It’ll be more convincing if you look like you actually like me.”
“Didn’t I just tell you I’m not good at lying?” she whispers back.
I smirk. “Then why is your pulse racing?”
“Because I’m intimidated by these pecs,” she says, poking at my chest with her slender finger. “I think you might have bigger boobs than I do, Grayson Stone.”
I laugh so genuinely that the sound takes me by surprise.
Maybe it’s the heat of my breath on her neck or just my proximity, but she suddenly billows that fresh spring scent that has been haunting me.
The girls falter in their conversation, and Willow does a double take. They all blatantly stare, an explosion of whispers erupting as they pass.
I step back from Eloise and her hand drops from my chest. “No going back now, Claws. We’re in this thing.”
“It’s just a shame that you’re so unattractive,” she says with a mischievous shrug. “Or this might actually be fun.”
I would laugh except now I’m starting to worry it’s not her who’s going to struggle with fake dating at all. What the actual hell is wrong with me?
Eloise pushes through our suite door and I close it behind us. But before she can make it to her room, I say, “I was thinking.” I flash her my best casual smile. “Maybe we should see our friends tonight.”
Her eyes widen, then narrow. “Did I just hallucinate or did you say you think we should see our friends tonight?”
“You said Maggie kept asking you to hang out. And my crew has been hounding me. Maybe we make a quick courtesy stop, basically buying ourselves time so we don’t have to do it again soon.”
She half laughs. “No offense, but I really don’t want to hang out with your friends. And Maggie would eat you alive if you tried to tag along with me.”
“I know. I actually meant separately,” I say, and she hesitates.
“What happened to you not letting me out of your sight?” she asks suspiciously.
I shrug. “We’ll make an exception. This once.”
She takes a step closer, her head tilting like a question. “A few days ago, you tell me you don’t trust me at all, and now you’re saying it’s cool if we separate for, what, an hour or two?”
“I just think it’s the path of least resistance.
We have way more important things to do than hanging out with our friends.
But it also takes up too much time fighting them if we don’t.
Not to mention it’s hard to justify. Tomorrow’s Friday and I want to get this out of the way so we can concentrate on the Key all weekend. ”
“I don’t disagree,” she says, pursing her lips. “But what I want to know is when you made this decision. Was it before or after I asked you about fake dating? Because if it was before, then there was no need for us to—”
I could lie of course, but I don’t want to. So, I grin.
Her cheeks immediately flush. “I think I hate you.”
My grin only widens. “And here I thought you didn’t lie.”
She huffs once, opens and closes her mouth, and then turns on her heel, cursing under her breath.
I could say I didn’t enjoy it, but that would also be a lie.