Chapter 39. Eloise
Eloise
I’ve been awake for a good half hour tossing and turning in bed.
Grayson knocked once, but I didn’t answer.
I’m humiliated. How did I not see this coming?
How did I not realize that kissing Grayson Stone was going to blow up in my face?
But the worst part is I can’t stop thinking about it, how his lips felt on mine, how he held all of my weight in his arms as he dipped me, how I’d have let him do it again.
I groan in aggravation, grabbing my pillow and smothering myself with it.
Knock.
I freeze, hoping he’ll think I’m still sleeping.
“It’s getting late, Claws,” he says through the closed door. “Our friends are going to be awake soon.”
His words send a jolt of adrenaline through me. Maggie! She’s absolutely going to kill me.
I jump out of bed, running a brush through my hair and pulling on my uniform.
“We need to get moving,” Grayson says through the wood. “Our friends are going to come looking for us and—”
“Good,” I say, throwing open the door. “Because I’m looking for Maggie.”
“I understand that you—” he starts, but I brush past him.
“That’s the thing. You don’t understand. Or you would have changed the door spell,” I say back, not rudely but not friendly, either. I need a break from Grayson Stone and I need it right now.
“Claws,” he says, sounding apologetic.
I don’t know if it’s his tone or the nickname, but whatever steely calm I was mustering goes right out the window.
“Don’t call me that,” I say in a huff.
“Eloise Belrose, friends are not the priority right now and you know that,” he says, and I want to bop him and his logic right on the head.
“It’s early. I can apologize to Maggie before we even finish breakfast,” I say back stubbornly.
“Can you?” he challenges. “Can you actually explain something that barely makes sense to us without telling her things you shouldn’t or lying to her?”
“I—” I close my mouth and glare at him.
“We made a scene last night,” he presses, and now this feels a bit like war.
“Correction, you made a scene.”
He has the nerve to smirk. “You’re right. Nobody noticed your daggers in the middle of the dance floor or you threatening to skewer everyone’s balls.”
I will kill this boy. “After you challenged the host to a magical duel like a caveman.”
He shrugs. “Never said I didn’t. In fact, I wish you’d let me hit him.”
There aren’t enough words in the English language to describe how much he frustrates me.
“As I was saying,” he continues. “We made a scene and our friends are going to want to know everything. If the Key was real, for starters. Rumors are probably flying.” He lifts a knowing eyebrow and I’m just grateful he doesn’t mention the kiss.
“And if that weren’t enough of a motivator, my uncle shortened our timeline to a week. ”
I swallow. “A week? Why?”
“Because he’s a prick,” he says bluntly. “And he likes toying with people.”
I pause, unsure. Did Grayson really just say that?
I rack my brain, trying to come up with a way I can both apologize to Maggie and not lose too much of the day. But even if we talk it out in less than an hour, she’ll want a full update. And then she’ll be pissed again if I run off. Damn him for being right.
“Even if I agree, I think you’re seriously underestimating Maggie,” I say. “We can’t just stay holed up in this room all day, door shield or not. If I don’t find her, she’ll start belting out songs in the hallway with increasingly embarrassing lyrics until I walk out that door.”
“Which is why I’m suggesting we go to my house.”
“Your house?” I say, not sure if I’m horrified or tempted.
“Unless you’re uncomfortable?” he qualifies.
“Why would I be uncomfortable?” I say, finding it easier to be standoffish than deal with my feelings. He’s beautiful. He’s horrible. He’s everything I should hate.
“Then let’s go,” he says, and holds the door open for me.
But the second I walk through it and get a whiff of his musky magic, I know it’s a mistake. How am I ever going to make it through an entire day at his house without killing him or kiss … never mind. Not going there. Shut up, brain.