CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Grayson — 18 years old (three months later)
Riley lies down on the blanket. She tugs on my hand, taking me with her. I lie on my back with her.
We’ve been together since the night of the Christmas gala, though we’ve never explicitly said that we’re a thing now, that we’re dating. It kind of just naturally happened. A flow of events, and we just went along with it.
We kissed that night, a whole fucking lot. Until we were both breathless and aching, but we somehow kept falling back into each other’s arms. Tasting each other, exploring our needs, and wanting more. I couldn’t get enough of her, and she was just as needy with her touches.
The next Monday, at school, I was holding her hand for everyone to see. She didn’t protest though. Riley had just been blushing, with a sneaky, pleased smile on her lips. Lips that I had been craving since I’ve tasted her.And then we kissed some more. Under the staircase, where no one could see us. In my car, hiding away from the rest of the world, in our own world where only she and I exist.
I was finally able to take her on a proper date today.
But it wasn’t until we got to the restaurant that I realized something was wrong. Riley wasn’t eating. At first, I thought she didn’t like the food. But that wasn’t the case.
She was anxious. Uneasy in a public setting.
And uncomfortable to eat in front of so many people.
When I saw her picking at her food, barely eating anything on her plate, I had the servers pack our food in takeout boxes. If being in a restaurant makes Riley uncomfortable, then we’d go somewhere else.
And here we are. It’s not a lily field, but it’s a meadow nonetheless. The best place for a private picnic. I knew it was the right spot to take Riley when her eyes lit up and she bounced happily across the meadow and found us the perfect spot under a tree.
Riley curls into my right side, pressing her body against mine.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, anchoring her to me. “Are you cold?”
She’s wearing a black dress, a leather jacket, and white sneakers. Her golden hair is in a loose, messy braid. Riley makes a sound of denial in the back of her throat. “I wasn’t expecting it, but it’s quite warm today. Spring is finally here.”
That’s true. It’s late March, and the afternoon’s breeze is no longer as chilly as it used to be a few weeks ago. “Did you like the food?”
Riley props herself up on her elbow, leaning closer to look down at me. She holds herself above me, her breath fanning over my lips. Her braid falls over her shoulder, the loose strands tickling my cheek. “The food was good. I was able to enjoy it once we got here.” Her eyes soften. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
She leans down, lowering her lips to mine. The kiss starts out slow, before turning into a frenzy of tongues and desperately needy. I lift my head up from the blanket, cupping the back of her neck to hold her to me.
Riley steals the breath from my lungs, and I drink in the taste of her, savoring her lips as if it was the last kiss of a dying man. Her chest is crushed against mine; I feel her own heart beating — the sound of it resonating through me.
“Grayson.” She moans my name into my mouth, and I swallow it, chasing her tongue with mine. We don’t break apart until we’re both dizzy and breathless.
A soft whimper spills from her mouth and she buries her face in the crook of my neck. I feel her damp lips against my flesh, and she nibbles on the sensitive spot on my throat. Licking my Adam's apple, and when I grunt in response, I feel her smirk against my skin.
Riley knows the effect she has on me, and she’s a tempting minx. I know she’s not a virgin; I’ve heard the rumors about Jasper and her. But Riley was somewhat inexperienced three months ago. I loved seeing her transition from tentative kisses to her boldness now. She’s exploring things she likes and the ways she wants to be touched.
She licks my throat again, her teeth grazing my skin with a teasing bite.
“Fuck.” My heart slams against my rib cage. My dick is impossibly hard. No amount of jerking off is helping my severe case of blue balls. Riley is a beautiful woman, with curves that make my mouth water. I’ve been satisfying myself with our kisses, but fuck, it’s no longer enough.
I hunger for Riley, and her undeniable desire for me is apparent in the way she rubs her body against mine. Needing to be closer.
Almost like she’s frustrated with the barrier between us.
We’ve made out a lot. But always clothed. If I ever feel her bare skin under my fingertips, I might actually lose my fucking mind.
My fingers tangle in her hair, my lips brushing against her cheek. “Are you my girlfriend, Riley Johnson?”
She jerks up at my response, her eyes narrowing on my face. “I thought that was obvious. We’ve been dating for three months.”
I cup her cheek, my thumb stroking along her jaw. “I was just making sure. We’ve never explicitly said the words.”
I need the words.
I need her to tell me that I’m not the only one who’s feeling the way I do.
“We’re exclusive, Mr. Hale.” She scowls at me, but instant relief courses through me. “You’re my boyfriend and you’d better not be kissing any other girls. Especially not Oaklynn. She’s a goddamn leech.”
My chest rumbles with a chuckle. While Oaklynn had been stuck to me like glue, I have to give her credit. She’s got immense self-respect; the moment Riley and I held hands in public, Oaklynn got the message and stepped back. I was half-expecting pettiness from her, but she surprised me with her maturity. Oaklynn isn’t happy about my relationship status, because every time we pass each other in the halls of Berkshire, she scowls at me.
“The only lips I’ve been tasting are yours, Goldilocks,” I tell my girl.
Riley preens at my words. “Good. In case you need me to make it crystal clear. I’m your girlfriend; you’re my boyfriend. Oh, and I like you. A lot.”
A burst of emotion erupts in my chest. Ah, fuck.
This is the first time Riley has confessed to liking me. I was supposed to be the boy on the wrong side of the tracks, the one without a purpose. The poor, forgotten boy who has lived all his life knowing his worth is less than a penny.
Because Grayson Avery was simply worthless.
My value was grotesque; living a life of desolation. He didn’t deserve Riley.
But… Grayson Hale has a girlfriend now. How did this happen? How did I end up with a beautiful, smart woman— who looks at me with stars in her eyes?
What did I do to deserve this, her ?
Is Riley the gift of my patience…? Because it sure feels like it.
My Goldilocks is a gift; one that I’m going to hold and protect.
I can’t let her go.
I won’t let her go.
***
“I’m home,” I announce, walking inside, only for my steps to halt when three pairs of eyes look up at me simultaneously.
Aunt Naveah and Uncle Ben are sitting side by side on the white couch. He has his hand on her thigh, their hands entwined together. They are always holding hands, whenever they are in each other's vicinity. It’s like there’s a magnetic pull between them. They have been married for more than two decades, and still are very much in love with each other. I might be skeptical about true love, but Aunt Naveah and Uncle Ben can be really convincing, without even trying that hard.
Something else worries me though…
Their expressions are pensive, and… troubled . I don’t like the look on their faces.
I especially don’t like the hard glint in Uncle Ben’s eyes. He’s a man who rarely smiles; he only ever does so at Aunt Naveah or me, sometimes. His smiles are special because they are always sincere, and his eyes never lie. After living with them for more than a year, and constantly studying their reactions, I can easily dissect their moods now.
I can tell when something is off.
And right now, I know something is seriously wrong.
Uncle Ben motions me over. “Come here, son.”
I make it to the couch, where they are sitting, in three quick strides. I swallow down my nerves and wait. My lungs squeeze with anxiousness, as I prepare myself to hear the worst.
It’s been too quiet lately.
My days spent with my Goldilocks have been too easy: I’ve started becoming careless. Thoughtless of what reality really is. Because life…
Life is not meant to be this sweet.
For a brief moment, I had forgotten just how unfair and cruel fate can be.
“Grayson, this is Detective Mallik,” Uncle Ben introduces the third set of eyes, his voice bleak and tense. “He wants to have a few words with you.”
My heart hammers in my chest, a prickling sensation shooting up my spine.
Detective Mallik looks to be around his late twenties, or early thirties: a young detective. He rises to his feet, standing to his full height. He doesn’t tower over me, I am taller…but the air that surrounds him is one of self-confidence. He has an assertive presence, one that I can admire because he reminds me a lot of how Uncle Ben carries himself.
He pulls a card out of the pocket of his trench coat and hands it to me. It’s his ID badge from the NYPD. “It’s nice to finally make your acquaintance, Grayson. We have a lot to cover, why don’t we have a seat?”
I simply nod.
Blood pounds in my ears.
I know why he is here.
I know who brought him here.