CHAPTER NINETEEN
Riley — 18 years old
As soon as the bell rings, I get the hell out of here. Like the entire school is on fire. Lila went home early today because of bad period cramps. She didn’t want to miss her last class, but she usually gets horrible pains during the first two days of her menstruation and they leave her incapable of doing anything else but curling up in bed.
So, she went home.
That means, I’m alone in this awful place — the ‘shark tank’ as we like to call it, and I’m not exactly comfortable with that. Lila has been my only pillar, the one keeping me together since I came back to Berkshire Academy last year.
Somehow, she makes me appear stronger than I really am.
I grab my coat and make my way to the parking lot. I easily spot my white Audi R8, the one my father ‘gifted’ me last year for my birthday. Not that my birthday was any celebration. Both my parents would rather forget that I exist. It was my father’s assistant who ordered the gift and made sure it was delivered, like she has done for the last few years.
As per my father’s orders, Sadie has my birthdate on her schedule, with a pretty note that says: Get Riley a gift. So she does just that and tells me with her fake toothy smile “It’s from your parents. Happy Birthday!”
It’s been like that for as long as I can remember. My parents don’t bother getting me any presents themselves. In fact, they don’t bother to even remember my birthday.
To them, I guess it’s not so important.
I was used to it — until Lila threw me a small birthday party at her grandparents’ house. It was just the four of us. Her grandma cooked dinner, Lila baked me a cake, and we spent the night playing Monopoly, before Lila and I fell asleep in her after watching a movie. It was the first time I slept over at her place and the first time I discovered what the true meaning of comfort is.
I make it to my Audi, but then come to a screeching halt when something catches my eye. My tires. Oh shit! I have flat tires.
Upon closer inspection, I see that they have been punctured. Purposely.
Damn it! I kick the tire in frustration. Great, so now I have two flat tires and zero spares.
Bad luck seems to follow me everywhere I go. Whoever is writing my destiny book is laughing at me.
“Do you need help?” a familiar deep voice says from behind me.
I jump, blood roaring between my ears in alarm. “Jesus, Grayson! Why do you keep doing that?” I spin around to face him. He’s so close that I almost smack my face into his chest. Stumbling back a step, I crane my neck up and look at his chiseled face.
Confused, he asks, “What?”
“Popping up out of nowhere,” I tell him blankly. “First at the coffee shop and now here.”
“Oh.” He appears flustered by my statement. “So, do you need help?” he asks again, more awkwardly this time.
“I have flat tires,” I deadpan, pointing at my car.
Grayson walks closer to it and squats down, inspecting my tires closely. His brows furrow, and I see the way his jaw tightens. A muscle ticks in his cheek. “It appears that someone did this purposely.”
Yeah, I know.
“Do you want to report this?” He stands up, his attention focused solely on me. I shift from one foot to the other, feeling anxious under his penetrating gaze. He’s always so… serious and formal. I can’t tell what’s in his head, what he’s thinking. “There are cameras in the parking lot.”
I shake my head. “No, that’s fine.”
“Why not?”
“What?”
“Why don’t you want to report whoever did this?” He motions toward my car.
I heft my backpack higher and release the breath I’ve been holding. “Because I don’t want the trouble, and anyway, it’s pointless.”
Grayson is silent for a second, studying me closely before he nods. “Okay then, I’ll give you a ride home.”
“Oh no, you don’t ha—
“I want to,” he says, his tone brooking no argument. Like I said before, bossy. But he doesn’t do it in an overwhelming or intimidating way. His bossiness is always accompanied with softness and understanding in his eyes.
Grayson Hale is the perfect gentleman, it seems.
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
Grayson’s voice drops low when he speaks again. “You’re never a bother to me, Riley.”
Oh…
His words send a jolt of electricity through my veins. I’m never a bother to him? Grayson has been so sweet to me, that his actions are almost unbelievable at one point.
Boys like him don’t exist. Not really. They are only appear in books.
In real life? Boys like him are not meant for girls like me. We don’t get the good guys. We get the rich and cruel jerks. Arrogant and brutish.
Boys like Grayson Hale go for the good girls. The ones without a scandal attached to their names. The ones with pretty hair, pretty eyes and pretty smiles. The sane, down-to-earth, sensible girls.
Not the unlucky girls, like me.
My life is in shambles, and I am a mess, ruined.
Grayson presses his fingertips on my lower back, carefully directing me toward his white Bentley. He opens the door for me, and I get in. After making sure I have my seat belt on, he closes my door and walks around to get to his side.
“Aren’t you supposed to go home with Oakylnn today?” I ask, when he starts the engine.
“No,” he simply states, reversing out of the parking lot.
No? That’s it? I’m learning new things about him. Grayson is a man of few words.
“But she said—
“What she said doesn’t concern us ,” Grayson interrupts softly. “I’ve never given her a ride before, and if she really wants to come over for dinner, she can drive there on her own or with her parents.”
His words pique my curiosity. “Have you ever given any girl a ride before?” I don’t know why I asked the question out loud, but the moment the words are out of my mouth, I want to take them back. I mentally slap myself for being so weird, but I can’t help but be curious about Grayson.
There’s so much I don’t know about him. He doesn’t speak a lot; he’s rather quiet and aloof. He doesn’t have my friends, except for Oaklynn. At lunch, if he’s not with her, he’s alone, sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, with a book in his hand.
I know he likes to read. I always find him with a new book in hand. It seems he doesn’t care much about sports. I’ve seen the basketball captain trying to recruit him numerous times, but he always politely refuses. Even the football team wants Grayson to join. With his build and height, he would be unstoppable on the field.
But Grayson Hale is a loner. A bossy, handsome loner.
I know, even boys like him have secrets. I wonder if his secrets are as dark as mine.
“I’ve never given any girl a ride before,” he finally responds after a long minute of silence. I notice the way his gaze slides over to me quickly, taking in my reaction before he goes back to looking at the road.
I can’t help the way my heart goes pitter-patter. “I’m the first?”
“You are the first,” he confesses, his voice dropping low.
I don’t know why…but I like that. I’m not supposed to be feeling this kind of way: the warmth in my chest or the fluttering in my stomach. But Grayson seems to have an undeniable hold on me and my reactions to him are unexpected.
Grayson is not a rash driver. He’s calm behind the wheel, both attentive and patient. Responsible. We don’t talk for the rest of the drive, so I take the time to study him. His stubbled jaw, long lashes, brown eyes and full lips. There’s a tiny slit in the corner of his right eyebrow. It makes me wonder how he got it. Was he injured badly? Did it hurt for a long time?
When Grayson turns into my driveway, he finally breaks the silence.
“You’re staring.”
“You do it too,” I accuse without any heat.
“I do it in a less obvious manner.”
I shake my head, grinning.“You only think that. It’s very obvious to me.”
“I like to study people.” Grayson pulls to a stop in front of the front gates and cuts the engine. He turns his body toward me, leaning his forearm against the steering wheel. “There’s a lot you can learn about someone when they don’t think you’re looking. What’s your excuse?”
Oh shit, busted. What’s my excuse? Well…
“I’m just merely curious.”
“You’re curious about me ? Why?” He quirks an eyebrow, waiting for my response.
Because you’re different…and mysterious.
Because you’re kind. You make me feel…warm. And safe.
Because I think…
“You’re too quiet,” I tell him instead.
Grayson stares at me, his gaze intense and thoughtful. The seconds tick by and he still doesn’t speak. After a minute, I swallow and clear my throat nervously. “Thank you for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I open the door, but his gruff voice stops me before I step out of the car. “I’ll take your curiosity instead of judgment, Riley. I prefer that.”
“A lot of people judge you?” I ask softly, even though I already know the answer.
“Isn’t it the same for you?”
His question has me inhaling sharply. “Yes.”
It seems that we’re alike, Grayson and me.
That’s why he sees me.
And I think…it’s why I feel drawn to him.
I get out of the car and close the door behind me. “It looks like it’s going to rain, so thank you for the ride.”
Grayson simply nods. “It’s no problem.”
I watch as he drives away, with my heart squeezing in my chest. I don’t understand what this feeling is — what it means , but somehow…it doesn’t feel wrong.
***
I let out a groan of annoyance, slapping the bed with my palm and then turning over on my side. I couldn’t focus on my essay earlier. So I thought maybe reading would clear my mind. But I made the mistake of picking up the smuttiest book I’ve ever read so far. Lila was right about that orc dick and the buckets of cum.
So now, the ache between my legs is back, and my body is sexually frustrated. Ugh, I hate this! No matter how many times I try masturbating, it just doesn’t work. I can’t find my release, and afterward, I feel empty and unsatisfied.
My clit throbs and feels swollen as I reach over and grab my pillow. I press it between my legs, my eyes squeezing shut as I rock my hips back and forth. Desperately trying to alleviate the pulsing ache.
Pushing a hand between my thighs, I shove my panties aside, and my fingers graze my folds. I find my swollen nub, pressing and rubbing against the bundle of nerves. I grind against the pillow, trying to find a rhythm that suits me.
The friction almost has me losing my mind, but it still isn’t… enough. It’s never quite enough. There’s always something missing, like I’m chasing for something that’s not there.
My body tenses as I edge toward my release, and I bite my lip — feeling it, right there: the tension and the ecstasy.
Except, I don’t reach the peak.
I never do.
I’ve only had sex once in my life. With Jasper, and I had been left extremely unsatisfied, which then turned out to be my greatest nightmare and my downfall. I regret losing my virginity to that asshole. But now that I know what sex feels like — the fact that I have tried it, and it was anti-climactic, I am filled with desires that are still waiting to be satisfied .
It’s like my sexual awakening was left unfulfilled, and now, I have an insatiable need to find the pleasure I’ve been missing in my life.
Except, like always, my needs turn into disappointment.
Irritated, and still sexually frustrated, I push the pillow away from between my thighs and turn to lie on my back again. I stare at the ceiling, thoughtfully chewing on the inside of my cheek. “I should have listened to Lila and bought that vibrator she was telling me about,” I mumble to myself.
Grabbing my phone, I go to do just that when a call comes through. His name pops up on my screen and I almost drop my phone in surprise. Oh God, what are the odds of Grayson calling now?
I hastily accept the call, bringing my phone to my ear. “Hello?” My voice is scratchy and huskier than usual. I blame it on the fact that I was just on the edge of release. I wonder if he can hear it in my voice.
“Riley,” he says as a greeting, and oh dear Lord, his vocals sound deeper over the phone. “I know this is all very sudden, but do you mind coming outside?”
Grayson and I exchanged phone numbers yesterday, after we became partners for our Law Studies assignment, but I wasn’t expecting to get a call from him already.
But, then again, he always pops out of nowhere, at the right moment. Except…I don’t think now is the right moment. My fingers are still coated with my juices.
I clear my throat, hoping I don’t sound so affected by his voice. “Outside? What do you mean?”
“Outside your gates,” he elaborates patiently. “I’m waiting for you there.”
I jerk up in shock. “You’re outside my house?”
“Yes,” he drawls, and I can sense his smile. His extremely charming smile. And I am a goner for that dimple. “Do you mind? There’s something I want to show you.”
“Yes,” I agree quickly, almost bouncing off my bed, “just give me a minute!”
I end the call, and quickly change from my tank top into my favorite oversized knitted, white sweater. The sweater covers my pink running shorts, stopping at mid-thigh. I brush through my messy hair with my fingers, untangling any knots I find, and then quickly dab on some pink lipstick.
I look…natural enough and pleasant.
I don’t keep looking at the mirror for too long, because I will start doubting my own reflection. I will notice my weight and my size; I will start listing every single flaw I see.
Mirrors are my enemy.
Once I’m ready, I try not to rush outside. It was raining earlier today, and the grass is wet and muddy. But I love the earthy smell after the rainfall. After opening the automatic gates, I walk out to find Grayson leaning against his white Bentley.
My heart stammers at the sight of him. Thud.
He’s wearing a white long sleeve button-up shirt and light blue jeans White shoes, black-rimmed glasses and a black baseball cap. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jeans, and he’s standing there, ankles crossed.
Thud. Oh, dear Lord, he’s strikingly…handsome.
His head lifts, and when he sees him, his lips twitch with a half-smile. And there’s the indent in his left cheek, the one that takes my breath away. That dimple is quite possibly my weakness.
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” I apologize, a little breathless. “I just wasn’t expecting a visitor. Is everything alright? Is this about the assignment?”
He shakes his head. “No, not about the assignment.”
I wait for him to continue, but he suddenly looks nervous. His thumb rubs along the length of his sculpted jawline. His eyes sweep over my body, remaining longer on my bare legs before moving to my chest, and then my face.
“I’ve never done this before,” Grayson tells me, sounding slightly flustered. “But I was driving around and found a flower shop.” He reaches inside his car, through the open window, and brings out a yellow flower.
Oh wow.
The color is vibrant and warm, the flower fragile and exquisite. It’s simply gorgeous.
“Yellow lilies,” Grayson whispers gruffly, touching a single petal with great gentleness. “Remember the meadow I was telling you about? The yellow lilies remind me of your hair.”
He stretches his arm toward me, and I blink up at him. “For you,” he says, his brown eyes intensely focused on me.
I feel a jolt deep in the pit of my stomach. “You’re giving it to me?”
Grayson shrugs. “Yeah,” he releases a throaty chuckle, and I feel it all the way down to my toes, “I came here to give it to you.”
He’s giving me a flower? A yellow lily that reminds him of me…
What does this mean?
What is this supposed to mean?
I reach for the flower, and my fingers brush against his. A tingle zips down my spine the moment we make contact, and I feel , more than hear, Grayson suck in a shuddering breath. “Thank you,” I breathe. “It’s beautiful.”
Running my knuckles along the yellow petals, I feel the softness of the flower. So fragile, so lovely. Something so ethereal reminds him of me ?
How is that possible…?
Does he not see the ugliness that resides in me? Does he not see the weakness of my heart and the darkness in my soul?
Can’t he see?
Or is he willfully blind?
Grayson takes a step back, tipping his baseball cap at me. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I nod mutely.
“Goodnight, Goldilocks.”
“Goodnight,” I whisper, giving him a tiny wave as he gets into his car.
I watch as he drives away, my heart in my throat and my stomach fluttering like there’s a wild zoo trapped inside it. Wait a minute—
Did he just call me Goldilocks?
I stand there, outside the gates, staring into nothing, until the sky opens up and it starts to pour. Rushing inside, I lock the door behind me and run to my room, my heart still beating like a drum in my ears.
I find a vase and put the yellow lily in it. A lonely flower, like me. Even when the lights are off, and I’m in bed, trying to sleep…my gaze keeps finding the vase on my nightstand.
He called me…Goldilocks.
Grayson gave me a nickname and a flower.
I push my face into my pillow and let out a silent, excited scream. This is utterly crazy and stupid, but I think…
I have a mad crush on Grayson Hale.